/lit/ - Literature

anything by vonnegut, he's addictive.
i'll get flamed for this, but if you liked vonnegut, you may like Chuck Palahniuk. Chuck draws pretty liberally from Vonnegut's style and cynicism, but still tells a good original story.

>>954083
Thank you, kind anon, any particular books you'd recommend? I'm googling Palahniuk now.

Oh dear Lord am I uncultured, he wrote fight club.

>>954097
heh, don't sweat it. it wasn't his best book, anyways, in my opinion. the movie did it justice. but i digress.
check out Survivor and Invisible Monster.

>>954109
Survivor looks damn good. I think I'll read that, thanks!

Literature is awesome, isn't it? Here are my top picks for ya.

William S. Burroughs - Naked Lunch
> You'll have to read everything by him eventually, because he's just the best, the greatest American novelist of the twentieth century and the greatest English-language novelist of the second half of that century, but this is the beginning of his greatness - it rewires EVERYTHING.

Anthony Burgess - Earthly Powers
> When people talk about philosophical novels - stuff like Atlas Shrugged and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintainance (neither of which I recommend), or Dice Man - I direct them to this book. It may be better to wait until you've read a load more literature, because much of the novel concerns the status of the writer and of literature during the twentieth century, but at its core is a breathtaking insight.

Oscar Wilde - The Picture of Dorian Gray
> This because it's the only place in the novel form that you can get the insights of Wilde, the English-language Nietschze (yes, really).

Chuck Palahniuk - Fight Club
> Mentioned already, I see - yeah, you don't need me to enthuse about this.

Charles Bukowski - Post Office
> Only to be read if you feel you've known what it is to be bereft of hope, because only then will you understand it. Bukowski's novels I actually prefer to the poems - or rather, I think the novels did more for the novel than the poetry did for poetry. The magic of Bukowski, apparently the most ordinary and un-magical guy, is that only those who need his work can *see* it, if that makes sense.

>>954144
lolparty.jpg

Mother Night by Vonnegut
The Stranger by Albert Camus
Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky

>>954144
>Oscar Wilde
>English Nietzsche

nigga wut art thou smoking?

>>954203

OK, British Nietschze - Ireland was still part of the British Empire in Wilde's time.

>>954219

Nietzsche, rather - always forget how to spell that name.

>>954231

Wait, I said 'English-language Nietzsche'. What's the issue? Srsly dog, he was.

>>954236
You haven't said anything to defend that statement.

Count of Monte Cristo. You won't see 4chan for days.

>>954244

I don't need to, it hasn't been challenged.

>>954252
I find that claim outrageous.

Now defend it.

>>954252
Someone asked what you were smoking as a way of calling you crazy, and all you did was say the same thing twice.

>>954246
Someone IRL recommended that to me, thanks for reminding me.

I found "Kafka on the Shore" by Haruku Murakami to be very strange, in a beautiful way. It's definitely a mind-bender, but if you like that kind of stuff I highly recommend it.

I also recommend the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle but it's very long (600 pages!) and boring at times. I just finished it today.

Read A Song of Ice and Fire.

You'll be off of 4chan for a full month at least. Also, at least a few of the main characters in that book will inspire you to man the fuck up and do shit outside of your house.

>>954263

The view of the world expressed in Wilde's body of work is compatible with that expressed in Nietzsche's, and if Wilde is taken as a philosopher and Nietzsche is taken as an aphorist very little is changed.

>>954268

That's not a legitimate challenge, nor will there be one.

>>954289

DON'T.

>>954302
WHY NOT

>>954289


Good idea.

Except for Sam, who remains a pussy fat fuck, and yet somehow manages to get laid by a Wildling slut.

Even that he fails at doing.

>>954309

It's a fantasy series, and this is a literature recommendation thread.

>>954302
I can see no reason why not to.

>>954319

Back off, yeah.

>>954312
OP specifically said

>can you recommend me some good books

not

>can you recommend me the great classics of literature, or whatever The New Yorker is giving a good write-up this week

>>954324

You idiot, there are no good books outside of literature, aesthetically or morally. Now fuck off.

>>954295
That's not defending your statement, that's repeating it.

So anyway, these are great suggestions :) thanks /lit/, you're true gentlemen.

>>954351

Happy reading, Ness!


>>954346
No it isn't.

>>954367
Yes it is

>Wilde is the english nietzsche
>why
>because their views of the world are compatible

it's only a slightly longer explanation, but it's still the same thing, defend it ffs, give examples, don't just say 'they are the same because they are the same'

>>954383

In the spirit of Nietzsche, I direct you to the texts. No Cliff Notes for you here, son.

>>954387
>MY POINT IS X!
>Oh yeah? Prove it!
>FUCK YOU DO IT YOURSELF
cool argument, bro

>>954387
So you still do nothing to defend your claim?

>>954397

What? This isn't /sci/, you illiterate. I was making a recommendation to someone interested in literature, not writing your essays for you. You beg for all the suffering in the world.

>>954418
You made a grotesque claim that Wilde was somehow the English speaking Nietzsche.

Then you said you wouldn't defend it because you hadn't been challenged correctly.

Then you make the same statement again, only making it a bit wordier.

Then when called on that you tell people to do their own research.

And to top it off when called on that you do the same thing again.

Sir, you truly are smoking the wrong thing.

>>954418
You made a ridiculous claim that multiple people have asked you to explain. And now you're claiming that people wondering what the hell you're talking about are trying to do their homework, even though it's July 23rd.
Explain your faggotry or quit being a cunt and admit you're retarded.

>>954446
>>954440

If the anon in question had the brains to actually explain something with evidence, he would have enough brains to not have made such a stupid claim to begin with.

>>954457
well fuck me, I guess I've been trolled hard then

>>954440
>>954446

Samefag.

I wasn't literally suggesting you were trying to submit a paper on this subject. Perhaps you have poor comprehension as well as a poor work ethic. I am not here to help you earn life. Read, and you will see why so many readers have made the connection I echoed in my post. Did you pay so little attention in class that you're now trying to turn 4chan into your classroom?

Seriously, people like you are just cancer.

>>954478
>more of the same, making claims and then telling people to do the work

Sure man.

Of course it's a cinch that these troublemakers are the people recommending shit like A Song of Ice and Fire.

THIS ISN'T /SCI/.

>>954498

The depth of your insight astounds me.

There's a spastic dog here who thinks to try me, and I grow increasingly tired of being expected to exercise restraint when addressing people who know nothing of the subject they're presuming to discuss.

>>954512
The spastic dog... is you.

>>954526

You have no right to speak. Go and read Wilde and Nietzsche in full, then return to me. I'm sick and tired of your posturing.

>>954478
1. Those posts clearly aren't the same person.
2. Saying "you're dumb" is not an effective strategy

>>954539
I think you should, because apparently you can't even defend your own claims.

1) if you think that wilde and nietzsche have the same view of the world you're pretty wrong, and you should defend that claim by explaining exactly what that view of the world is so we can see whether you're wrong about nietzsche's or wilde's view of the world
2) you're dumb
3) this is my first post itt, btw

>>954539
You still haven't given us any reason why you're right. Just list some similarities in philosophy they have.

>>954547
>>954552

Samefag.

>>954560
aaawwww how cute, all he can do is curl up and yell samefag, samefag, samefag!

>>954555

I can only assume you've misunderstood one of them. Read all of both, and keep doing it until you get it. 4chan is a leisure activity, I'm not being paid to teach you.

>>954569

Samefag.

Hell yes.

Can't wait for George to get off his ass and finish the next one.

>>954572
If you enter a discussion and make a bold claim, then defend that claim with arguments, it's not teaching it's having a proper discussion

>>954572
If you make an argument and then refuse to defend it to the multiple people who are disagreeing, you're doing something wrong.

I came to this thread to give recommendations to a serious reader. Then some human waste matter floated in. Wilde was as close as anyone working in his culture possibly could have been to being an English-language Nietzsche. If you understood Nietzsche, you'd understand why continuing to challenge this statement will profit you nothing. If you understood Wilde, you'd understand why you have yet to earn the right to speak. Because you understand neither, you'll be whining on here all day, touching yourself to think that you won in your own mind on the internet. Meanwhile, I'll converse with those who've earned the privilege of my discourse.

>>954572
I get the feeling that you're trolling me. And congratulations, it's working, because I'm actually a little fucking annoyed.

You can't just toss out a bullshit claim and then act like a fucking asshole when anyone tries to discuss it, that's fucking bullshit. You're making some entirely specious argument that fucking everyone in this thread thinks is bullshit, and simply refusing to defend it on the grounds that 'anyone who's read wilde and nietzsche would agree with me' because that's OBVIOUSLY NOT TRUE.

So fucking explain what you mean, or keep trolling, or w/e

>>954583
>>954586

THE SAME FUCKING IDIOT AGAIN! I'm not blind, Anon, you may as well stop trying.

It wasn't a discussion, it was a recommendation thread! I made my recommendations. Stop trolling, read something, and enjoy your life.

>>954594
>make claims
>get called on them
>repeat claims and add to that that anyone arguing with you is not worthy

cool story bro

>>954594
wilde was a decadent aesthete hedonist, nietzsche is not

ergo, you are stupid

>>954605
I believe this is the 3rd time you wrongly accuse me of samefagging, I'm the guy that asked you what you're smoking and if you have any idea of how conversation goes on 4chan you realize there are at least 3-4 people here disagreeing with you.

That said, you are a very successful troll, 9.5/10

>>954598

YOU FUCKING IMBECILE! AGAIN! THE SAME FUCKING IDIOCY! AGAIN!

This is classic. Like I say, read them, understand them, and this will stop happening to you.

>>954605
Those two posts were made at pretty much the same time, bro. Just briefly explain why you think they're the same. We're not asking for an essay, just a couple of main points.

>>954605
it was a recommendation thread until you made an absurd claim in the course of recommendations and completely refused to defend it or even discuss it.
also, the boundary between 'rec thread' and 'discussion thread' has always been ambiguous at best, so stop being a bitch

>>954610

Meanwhile, outside Wikipedia, things are a little different, but at least you're a honest fraud.

>>954605

If, in the course of a recommendation (or course of any conversation, really), you make a claim that others suspect to be incorrect, then you should either defend your assertion with evidence or admit that you cannot and that your claim is subject to revision. Or fuck off.

>>954623
alright listen, straight up, are you trolling

>>954623
>a honest

laughingelfman.jpg

>>954617

1. The question of sensibility.
2. The central place of paradox - it isn't just a technique, it's the formal expression of their entire worldview.
3. The invention of one's own lineage - the positioning of N. and W. as the true inheritors of an tradition misperceived.

Oh wow, you folks are still fighting :(. In any case, anyone know of any authors similar to Sartre? I had to read him for my Intro to Philosophy class and loved his stuff.

>>954624

You did not read or understand Nietzsche or Wilde. End of discussion.

>>954625

No. I am still a reader and the main imbecile here is still something else.

>>954324

Fantasy can be good lit... often it isn't, but it can be.

I recommend The Prince of Nothing series by R. Scott Bakker... considering this is a recommendation thread.

>>954641

You think I've lost my energy huh? NO, FUCK OFF, fantasy books are not literature!

>>954635
holy shit, actually lowering yourself to explain what you think, i'm impressed. altho i think your points are valid to an extent, i don't think any of them are sufficient to claim an identity in their view of the world is identical - for example, i think the tradition that they're placing themselves in is very different

>>954638
>make claim
>refuse to defend it
>ad hominem
Glenn Beck?

>>954638

I have read both, in fact. However, whether I have read them is immaterial. The material question is whether you can defend your claims with evidence or not.

I don't see any justifiable reason to equate one author with another. Perhaps Nietzsche and Oscar Wilde are similar *I have not read anything by Wilde but I am taking it on the authority of the clarity of your other expositions on authors who I have read* but equating two different authors to me leads nowhere. I would like to here a good explanation of this, perhaps to inspire me to read something by Wilde...*I can sense some similarity between Nietzsche's ubermench and what I've heard of Dorian Grey*

>>954645

Not samefag here. A Song of Fire and Ice is entertaining, but not really literature, I agree.

Bakker is different... anyone read him?

>>954651
>I would like to here a good explanation of this

oh boy, here we go again

let me just shorten this for you and give the troll a break
>" please explain yourself "
>no fuck you, go read nietzsche and wilde
>"but please I am curious"
>no no no fuck off samefag
>wut?
>you're clearly not worthy

>>954663
really? I guess I should have read the thread more thoroughly. I liked that anon's notes on the other authors he listed.

>>954646

I don't think they're VERY different, or at least, not much more different than I covered in my references to the neccesary differences of context. Culturally and socially, yes, but in terms of the ideas and the relation to the ideas, not so much.

>>954651
see, the thing is, there's some similarity between them, but the entire reason that they are what they are is different. i suppose you could make the argument that the difference is that between Wilde the artist and Nietzsche the ethicist and philosopher, but the fact is that dude claimed that they were identical, not that they were similar but different.

But fantasy aside, I highly recommend The Razor's Edge by W. Somerset Maugham.

>>954674

I'm talking about what they were as AGENTS in their culture, not about some notion of cellular identity. I said Wilde was the English-language Nietzsche and I meant it - this does not mean they're the SAME person.

I love it when weak people use the phrase 'ad hominem' to raise their crippled forms from the ground.

>>954683
i was interpreting your comments to mean that they were essentially the same in worldview and philosophy, that they said and meant the same things, and in general thought the same way

sorry i didn't realize that you only meant they were functionally the same, because that's probably true. and again, there's undoubtedly some similarity, i've just thought that you were far overstating it.

>>954683
I wasn't even questioning whether you meant they were the same person, but even as agents in culture, i don't see how one could equate two different artists. I don't think Oscar Wilde has had as large an impact on culture as Nietzsche, by the way. Really, what exactly do you mean, in a nutshell?

>>954683
>I'm talking about what they were as AGENTS in their culture, not about some notion of cellular identity. I said Wilde was the English-language Nietzsche and I meant it - this does not mean they're the SAME person.
Explain how Wilde is the English-language Nietzsche, for the love of god.

>>954648

Go back to /SCI/ YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKER YOU! You won't address my specific points now you've heard some of them, because it would require you to STOP BEGGING FOR MURDER FOR A SECOND!!

>>954689

Read this:
>>954688

I said what I meant in a nutshell from the beginning.

>>954691

It would need either a three-thousand word essay, which I have no intention of writing for 4chan, or a short list of points similar to the one I've already provided it.

>>954697
I want to clarify that my apology was sarcastic. because even if you had a point that was in some sense valid, the claim you initially made was very ambiguous and different from your point, and you were an asshole throughout this whole process

>>954692

I had not seen your specific points at the time I typed my response. I'm a bit confused about why you seem to be convinced that I'm from /sci/ because I dared to ask you to discuss literature on a literature discussion board...

>>954712

No it wasn't, nothing I've said has changed. You misunderstood the initial statement - possibly because it wasn't an abstract or an encyclopedia entry but an en passant note for a genuine reader. Possibly because you decided to have an argument for no reason and with no ammunition.

>>954686
>implying the raging troll hasn't been using ad hominems in half his posts

>>954707
I don't know why you directed me to someone else's post. It didn't really clear up your position. And I still disagree with such a comparison. Wilde is Wilde and Nietzsche is Nietzsche, outside of marketing, there is no need or relevance for such comparisons.

>>954594


Ayn Rand is a Russian Jew version of Kierkegaard.

You haven't read everything they ever wrote? Then you cannot possible say that I am wrong.

>>954729

Because you're apparently completely unaware of how to discuss the arts. You don't know how to make the approach, as Timbaland once put it.

>>954738

Unless you have an imitator, you've just said you were being sarcastic in your dealings with me. Why do you continue then?

What I said was in all respects accurate. You can admit it now, admit it in ten days, admit in ten years, admit it on your deathbed, or just SHUT UP AND CEASE REPLYING, but the result will be the same.

>>954740
Ah, yes, Bukowski. The American Jane Austen.

>>954740

You may have a point, I've not read Ayn Rand.

>>954757
There are at least 3 people disagreeing with you in this thread, also you're troll

>>954763

Jane Austen wrote a story about being shrunken down and inserted in a woman's vagina?

I MUST READ IT.

>>954707
you haven't given any sort of list of points

Guys, you all should read Graham Greene. He's kind of like the British Saramago. Very similar.

>>954773

See here:
>>954635

The three people who disagree with me are just a drop in the ocean of people whose opinions are incorrect because they don't match up with what I happen to think.

>>954757
I wasn't the one saying I was sarcastic. Whether or not I can find the similarities you say are there, I will never make such a banal statement as Wilde is the english-speaking Nietzsche or Goethe is the German Shakespeare or whatever like it, I think statements such as these are inherently pointless, and I don't see how you defend it, all that it shows is you lack critical rigour. It's just like how Warhols soup cans are all completely different, you should read some Bergson or Deleuze some time (just bringing it back to /lit/) on the concept of ''difference".

OP, if you're still here, ignore the people trying to nobble me so they can get you to read fantasy books, and happy reading!

Ok listen:

The person who claims that Wilde is an English-speaking Nietzsche give us ONE idea that Wilde had and that Nietzsche shared.

Just one, not a long essay, don't say that their ideas were the same, just give us ONE FUCKING IDEA THEY SHARED. Not hard to do at all.

>>954781

Which you can't spell. Nice try, creep.

>>954781
goethe isn't the german shakespeare, he's the german dante. also, thomas mann is clearly the german rainer maria rilke.
>>954786
in his defense, he's done that.

>>954781

Also, it should be noted that your opinion is irrelevant.

>>954781

Goethe is clearly the German Marlowe. Both wrote about Faust.

>>954792
No, clearly, Marlowe is the German Shakespeare

>>954793

Ah, I see it now. Thank you!

>>954789

Yes, I did, and it makes no difference because the usual crowd of asthmatic child abusers are out in force to attack anyone who would dare appraise literature from the perspective of experience and sensibility.

>>954787
Ha I didn't realize that spelling from a translation was considered ''incorrect'', but obviously you have nothing to say to the essence of my argument. You really fail, all the way. Nice chatting with you, though. I just think your comparisons are odious and pointless.

>>954144

> Wilde
> Putting views into literature

Someone doesn't know what an aesthete is.

>>954804

No, you don't know what an aesthete is.

>>954804
Shut up YOU READ WIKIPEDIA YOU LITTLE CHILD! I READ BOOKS AND I KNOW THE TRUTH! You have obviously never read a book in your life.

By the way, OP, you should read Willa Cather, I like to think of her as the American Jorge Luis Borges

>>954796
What sensibility is there in equating two different authors? It is nominalism, and a marketing ploy. Your argument may be valid, in some respects, but to make such a statement betrays the fact that you have a banal and trite understanding of literature.

>>954810

This capering won't save you.

>>954810

Nah. You're wrong. Prove to me that I am wrong.

>>954812

No, I do not. The original context is a short series of notes to help a fledging reader. Your opinion is without validity, you do not have the right to express it.

>>954817
read Willa Cathers and JLB and you'll realize that they're identical. i inexplicably can't comment on their similarity, you child. try reading a book sometime.

>>954817

That isn't me, it's the original cancer.

It is because of this sort of insolence, enshrined now at every level of American society, that the victory of Al Qaeda is a consummation devoutly to be wished. There will be discipline and there will be silence, this side of horror or the other.

>>954824

Wasn't referring to the Cather statement.

>>954823
I wasn't reading into your original context, I was simply commenting on the fuitility of an arrangement of two different authors in order to persuade. To say Wilde is the anglophone Nietszche is about as useful as saying my hand is my upper foot. If you wish to exhibit your understanding (rather than beg for attention) you would do better not to equate seperate entities. Also, you have done nothing to elucidate your argument, and all you have done is to call attention to yourself, which in that respect you have succeeded. Honestly, I began by asking for more information on your argument, I liked some of your other notes, but I just find your attempt to synthesize a relationship like you have done to be pointless.

>>954796

I'm sorry, but there has been no "appraisal" in this thread. You have attempted to make a comparison, not an appraisal. Perhaps some misunderstanding of the English language on your part has led you to your current misunderstanding of Wilde?

>>954839
Well you're still wrong. About everything. Which you would understand if you would read a book in your life. I'm just smarter and always right. Also sexy as fuck.

>>954849

Also modest!

>>954841

None of your clauses go together properly because in each one of them you've tried to use a formula from something you've read in the past.

> Also, you have done nothing to elucidate your argument, and all you have done is to call attention to yourself, which in that respect you have succeeded.
> yourself, which in that respect
> which

Stop wasting my time and yours.

>>954853
>>954849

Samefag.

>>954844

READ MY ORIGINAL NOTES YOU IMBECILE! My purpose here was to help the original poster, and I did.

>>954849

You have never read a book in your life. You are ugly.

Prove me wrong.

BEHOLD!!

NEW ONE PIECE OPENING

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhHRYsvX3Tk

ENJOY

>>954560
>>954575
>>954859

Samefag

>>954854
Once again, you have nothing to say. You cringe at the profound way in which I have denigrated your petty rhetoric, and so you attempt a stab at my grammatical errors, poorly I might add.

This is what happens when you create a /lit/ board and let fantasy readers post there. Vendettas and stupidity.

>>954860
You make some pretty questionable claims in the other notes, looking back. Like that William S Burroughs is the greatest English-language novelist post-1950, and the greatest American novelist post 1900. Which is less insane than your claim re: Wilde, but certainly arguable.

>>954869

That's awful prose. You haven't begun to earn the right to challenge anybody, you can't write English.

>>954874

Oh, sure, any claim is arguable.

>>954878
I claim that most men have ten fingers

argue all you wish

>>954883

That's not a claim, you gas-chamber candidate.

>>954876
>you can't write English
Did you mean to say I can't write in English? That I couldn't compose properly in the English language, or that I was errant in my typing? The irony of your statement is delicious, babe.

>>954886

There's nothing ironic about it. Nor is there anything ironic about your mistaken belief that it constitutes incorrect or non-standard usage. The problem is, I do know the language better than you. So you're not going to get any joy out of presuming to test me on those grounds, just as you didn't on a discussion of literature.

>>954860

I read your original notes, and perhaps you did help him with your book suggestions. However, you surely did not help him by making dubious claims, and you have not helped the rest of us by refusing to elucidate. If you have so much greater insight than the rest of us, shouldn't you share it? Sadly, your three point list did little to help me, or, apparently, anyone else.

>>954876

>You haven't begun to earn the right to challenge >anybody, you can't write English.

That's a comma splice.

>>954900

Insight was not requested. From the start, I was greeted with insolence - read the start of this if you can stomach it. Your opinion of my original notes is not, and never has been, required. Identify any post of equal quality during the original subject discussion of this thread - there are NONE. I was resented, and immediately the trolling began. Your attempting to take the middle ground and appear reasonable is pointless - I am correct.

>>954909

You're talking nonsense.

>>954898
We never discussed literature, and it was not non-standard usage, but a mistake. The fact that you were criticizing my typing mistakes in the process, if not ironic, was definitely humorous. More to the point, you have not exhibited the least bit of master over language, and you really fail at making your case for adequate knowledge of literature. I never said you were inadequate in this respect, only that you are defending a poor comparison, without presenting any defensible arguments, calling Nietzsche and Wilde "agents of culture" seemingly without any idea of the significance of your terms. You have missed the point entirely, and making a farce of yourself. I simply asked you what your argument for this was, for the sake of curiosity, and was honestly giving you the benefit of the doubt. Instead, you are engaging in a narcissistic joke, and you have made yourself the punchline. By making a crude synthesis of Wilde and Nietzsche you have done nothing critically, it was a poorly reasoned statement, and you tried to cover the fact that your primary desire in making that statement was to sound edgy. After that point, it was all about wanting to sound smart. I know, it's hard, you want validation for all the hard work you've done making yourself into a passable intellectual. I like you, you remind me of a younger me. Keep reading.

>>954913

Any posting that recommended to him a book to read was of the same value as yours from a practical point of view. However I quite agree with you that no other posts in the beginning of the thread were of the same quality as yours , for since the other postings did not contain misleading claims alongside their recommendations, as yours did, they were in fact of superior quality.

We the Living by Ayn Rand (not kidding)

>>954927
> More to the point, you have not exhibited the least bit of master over language
> master over language

You're talking nonsense. My statements remain factual. There was no attempt to be 'edgy' on my part, I was simply trying to help. Your clear intention was and remains to prevent people from listening to someone who could help them. You are the worst kind of human waste matter. Cease this nonsense, your mendacity will never succeed here.

>>954937

There you go. It's me or people like that. Happy now, you piece of fucking shit? You leave the way clear for the common foe of man.

Later that morning when Nancy, Allie and Vickie got up they wanted to know who had called. Casey showed them the website and told them about the call from Dr. Amy. The girls sat on either side of Nancy as they read Family Love Boat. She fingered their pussy as she read the story to them. Nancy could still not believe how moist Vickie got when she was stimulated. As she fingered the girls she thought about all of the incestuous seed that had been pumped into their unprotected wombs. She knew she needed to talk to the girls about that and make sure they were both ready and wanting a baby in their beautiful bellies. And then she thought about what if it is too late... .what if both of them were inseminated yesterday.

As she continued to read the story both girls had powerful orgasms when Zach had intercourse with his sister for the first time. Both Vickie and Allie were fingering her hard when she read how Zach had unprotected sex with his mother. As the incestuous orgasm was described, Nancy had her own powerful orgasm. She was thankful that she had put the oversized beach towel across the sofa because her juices were flooding.

That was when her office door popped open and Mike, the boy who hosted the video, walked in naked. He was followed by his sister Kaitlin who was also naked.

-Mom... good... no patients... can you watch the babies for a while. We want to go for a run and a swim. Mike asked.

Kaitlin came up behind her Mom and kissed her on the cheek and that is when she looked up and saw Casey on the video conference.

Their kiss became intensely passionate. Their tongues did a wild sexual mating dance and they were so lost in their passions that they were oblivious to their surroundings. Dylan's beautiful body was stark naked and he was wildly thrusting his boner deep in her pussy. They were totally unaware that a 75 year old couple who had been married 55 years stopped as they walked along the beach road and watched the beautiful youngsters mating. As they watched the young boy wildly thusting his hard boner in the beautiful young girl, they tilted their heads together and thought of their younger days when they were about these kids age and having sex. They were close enough that they could hear Dylan and Victoria's moans and groans of pleasure and they could tell that their orgasms were imminent. Dylan cried out that he was cumming and the old couple smiled.

>>954942
You haven't been helpful, you simply waxed poetic over your entry-level taste. When opposed, you have done nothing but make inane critiques of typos. You clearly only intend to draw attention to yourself, and anyone who considers Anthony Burgess ''great philosophical literature" clearly has not read much. So, get up, brush the doritos crums off of your enormous gut, take another disgusted look at yourself in the mirror and come back once you've read some big boy literature okay?

>>954970

Nonsense, Burgess is generally rejected by pseuds such as yourself, but in fact there is a core of insight, unpopular as the ideological perspective might be. The rest of what you're saying is just lies and projections. You are defending the lowest of the low in the interests of obfuscation. Go away, this will not end in your success.

ALSO: I was recommending books to someone who is at the start of his experience of reading. So I'm recommending key, core works. This would be self-evident to anyone who cared about helping other people.

SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU This thread was funny for a while but now you're just being stupid.

Don't make me post "When The Cullens Found Airwolf" at you.

>>954984

I have never seen this, you may as well post it, it can't be worse than what that piece of shit is drooling.

>>954979
Actually it is pseudo intellectuals who comprise Burgess' greatest readership, kids who haven't overcome their dickriding of A Clockwork Orange to read literature with actual weight. Burgess is the british equivalent of Noam Chomsky. Also, your overestimation of Burroughs, is comical. Burroughs was a great charlatan, and appeals to suburbanites such as yourself with a taste of real-life, but he admittedly packaged it for sale.

The weather beaten trail wound ahead into the dust racked climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense from overhead, half way through its daily revolution. Small rodents scampered about, occupying themselves in the daily accomplishments of their dismal lives. Dust sprayed over three heaving mounts in blinding clouds, while they bore the burdonsome cargoes of their struggling overseers.

"Prepare to embrace your creators in the stygian haunts of hell, barbarian", gasped the first soldier.

"Only after you have kissed the fleeting stead of death, wretch!" returned Grignr.

A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust forth, sending a steel shod blade to the hilt into the soldiers vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.

The enthused barbarian swilveled about, his shock of fiery red hair tossing robustly in the humid air currents as he faced the attack of the defeated soldier's fellow in arms.

"Damn you, barbarian" Shrieked the soldier as he observed his comrade in death.

A gleaming scimitar smote a heavy blow against the renegade's spiked helmet, bringing a heavy cloud over the Ecordian's misting brain. Shaking off the effects of the pounding blow to his head, Grignr brought down his scarlet streaked edge against the soldier's crudely forged hauberk, clanging harmlessly to the left side of his opponent. The soldier's stead whinnied as he directed the horse back from the driving blade of the barbarian. Grignr leashed his mount forward as the hoarsely piercing battle cry of his wilderness bred race resounded from his grinding lungs. A twirling blade bounced harmlessly from the mighty thief's buckler as his rolling right arm cleft upward, sending a foot of blinding steel ripping through the Simarian's exposed gullet. A gasping gurgle from the soldier's writhing mouth as he tumbled to the golden sand at his feet, and wormed agonizingly in his death bed.

Grignr's emerald green orbs glared lustfully at the wallowing soldier struggling before his chestnut swirled mount. His scowling voice reverberated over the dying form in a tone of mocking mirth. "You city bred dogs should learn not to antagonize your better." Reining his weary mount ahead, grignr resumed his journey to the Noregolian city of Gorzam, hoping to discover wine, women, and adventure to boil the wild blood coarsing through his savage veins.

>>954998

Three boilerplate middlebrow misapprehensions in two-and-a-tenth lines is quite something. Though I'm really not sure how Chomsky and Burgess can possibly be equated, I'm assuming this is the same joke from before.

There's really no point in your doing this, because you aren't going to achieve anything.

The trek to Gorzom was forced upon Grignr when the soldiers of Crin were leashed upon him by a faithless concubine he had wooed. His scandalous activities throughout the Simarian city had unleashed throngs of havoc and uproar among it's refined patricians, leading them to tack a heavy reward over his head.

He had barely managed to escape through the back entrance of the inn he had been guzzling in, as a squad of soldiers tounced upon him. After spilling a spout of blood from the leader of the mercenaries as he dismembered one of the officer's arms, he retreated to his mount to make his way towards Gorzom, rumoured to contain hoards of plunder, and many young wenches for any man who has the backbone to wrest them away.

Notice how the cunt who accused me of merely trying to draw attention to myself is now INSULTING THE OP OPENLY.

Weird.

>>955014

More of this, please. Bury the fucker.

PS: Notice how the creep used 'suburbanite' as an insult, apparently taking his tips on how smart folks speak from old Jack Benny Shows.

-2-

Arriving after dusk in Gorzom,grignr descended down a dismal alley, reining his horse before a beaten tavern. The redhaired giant strode into the dimly lit hostelry reeking of foul odors, and cheap wine. The air was heavy with chocking fumes spewing from smolderingtorches encased within theden's earthen packed walls. Tables were clustered with groups of drunken thieves, and cutthroats, tossing dice, or making love to willing prostitutes.

Eyeing a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench, Grignr advanced wishing to wholesomely occupy his time. The flickering torches cast weird shafts of luminescence dancing over the half naked harlot of his choice, her stringy orchid twines of hair swaying gracefully over the lithe opaque nose, as she raised a half drained mug to her pale red lips.

Glancing upward, the alluring complexion noted the stalwart giant as he rapidly approached. A faint glimmer sparked from the pair of deep blue ovals of the amorous female as she motioned toward Grignr, enticing him to join her. The barbarian seated himself upon a stool at the wenches side, exposing his body, naked save for a loin cloth brandishing a long steel broad sword, an iron spiraled battle helmet, and a thick leather sandals, to her unobstructed view.

>>954144

Best post, by me, eat shit guys, /thread

"Thou hast need to occupy your time, barbarian",questioned the female?

"Only if something worth offering is within my reach." Stated Grignr,as his hands crept to embrace the tempting female, who welcomed them with open willingness.

"From where do you come barbarian, and by what are you called?" Gasped the complying wench, as Grignr smothered her lips with the blazing touch of his flaming mouth.

The engrossed titan ignored the queries of the inquisitive female, pulling her towards him and crushing her sagging nipples to his yearning chest. Without struggle she gave in, winding her soft arms around the harshly bronzedhide of Grignr corded shoulder blades, as his calloused hands caressed her firm protruding busts.

"You make love well wench," Admitted Grignr as he reached for the vessel of potent wine his charge had been quaffing.

A flying foot caught the mug Grignr had taken hold of, sending its blood red contents sloshing over a flickering crescent; leashing tongues of bright orange flame to the foot trodden floor.

>>955013
Middle brow in what sense? I'm pretty sure you are just using catch-phrases now, without any creedance to their meaning. Your entire list is evidence that you haven't made it out of the suburbs, or that you are an intellectual coward. You either made your original post in order to appear edgy (albeit indirectly by challenging your perceived notions of elitism, i suppose) or you are quite sincere and are stuck in High School. Either way, I find it endlessly amusing to see you struggle for legitimacy among strangers.

"Remove yourself Sirrah, the wench belongs to me;" Blabbered a drunken soldier, too far consumed by the influences of his virile brew to take note of the superior size of his adversary.

Grignr lithly bounded from the startled female, his face lit up to an ashen red ferocity, and eyes locked in a searing feral blaze toward the swaying soldier.

"To hell with you, braggard!" Bellowed the angered Ecordian, as he hefted his finely honed broad sword.

The staggering soldier clumsily reached towards the pommel of his dangling sword, but before his hands ever touched the oaken hilt a silvered flash was slicing the heavy air. The thews of the savages lashing right arm bulged from the glistening bronzed hide as his blade bit deeply into the soldiers neck, loping off the confused head of his senseless tormentor.

With a nauseating thud the severed oval toppled to the floor, as the segregated torso of Grignr's bovine antagonist swayed, then collapsed in a pool of swirled crimson.

In the confusion the soldier's fellows confronted Grignr with unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward the latters scowling make-up.

"The slut should have picked his quarry more carefully!" Roared the victor in a mocking baritone growl, as he wiped his dripping blade on the prostrate form, and returned it to its scabbard.

"The fool should have shown more prudence, however you shall rue your actions while rotting in the pits." Stated one of the sprawled soldier's comrades.

It was a sunny day in forks so the Cullens were at home watching TV

"Guys, come and watch this, this helicopter is amazing" said Emmett.

"Oh yeah, that's Airwolf" replied Jasper.

"Well I want to go and find it" said Emmett.

"It's not real Emmett, it's just a TV show" said Bella

"I bet it is real" said Emmett.

"It's not" said Edward.

"Well if we go to it's hiding place and it's not there then I will believe that it's not real" said Emmett.

"Very well, you kids go and prove or disprove Airwolf's existence while Esme and I stay here" said Carlisle.

"Thank you Carlisle" said Emmett.

"Momma, can I come too?" asked Renesmee.

"Of course sweetheart" replied Bella.

"Can Jake come too please mommy?" asked Renesmee.

"No sorry sweetheart, but I'll tell you what if it's real then you can come with us to show him, how's that?" replied Bella.

"I guess so mommy" replied Renesmee.

"Where do we look?" asked Jasper.

"Valley Of The Gods according to that episode I just watched" replied Emmett.

"That's way out in the Arizona desert" said Bella "what about the sun?".

"We're going to wait until it's dark and we're going in my jeep" replied Emmett.

"It's settled then we travel to Arizona tonight" said Edward.

That night Alice, Bella, Edward, Emmett, Jasper, Renesmee and Rosalie all went into the garage and got into Emmett's Jeep

"Jazz, have you got the map of Valley of the Gods?" asked Emmett.

"Yeah, let's go" replied Jasper.

"We're going" replied Emmett pressing the accelerator pedal.

A few hours into the journey

"What's so special about this helicopter mommy?" asked Renesmee.

"Well baby, according to the show it can go as fast as a jet and has lots of weapons and you know what your Uncle Emmett is like with things like that" replied Bella.

"Yes I do mommy he's crazy, but the helicopter sounds fun" replied Renesmee.

"I think so too princess" said Bella.

"How long until we get there mommy?" asked Renesmee.

"A few more hours, try and get some sleep darling" replied Bella.

Renesmee fell asleep in Bella's arms and Bella moved Renesmee's hand up to her cheek so she could see what her daughter was dreaming about which was Jacob as usual, Bella could tell Edward was feeling uneasy about it

"Don't worry Edward, she would never leave us and if she does I know she will be safe with Jacob, I can't think of anyone better for her" said Bella.

"I know love and I guess I agree, if that day comes I'm not looking forward to it" replied Edward.

A few hours later they arrived in the Valley Of The Gods

"So we're here, where do we start looking?" asked Jasper.

"It should be in like a dormant volcano with a cave type entrance" replied Emmett as he parked the jeep. Everyone got out, Bella, Edward and Renesmee went to the north, Rose and Alice went east, Emmett went south and Jasper went west. About half an hour into the search Renesmee entered a cave

>>955028

You're projecting, but to do that successfully you must find out what all the words you're using mean. Also, how they're spelled. 'Creedance', even when correctly spelled, does not mean 'credibility'. My list is a list of good books for a reader starting out into literature, which is what the OP was. Eat shit and die, you candidate for the gas oven.

She tenderly kissed his lips and felt his hand slide up her abs to her hard nipple. His touch made her gasp. She wanted to be joined with him again... right now. Her hand explored the front of his basketball shorts and found his hard boner. Her thumb hooked in his shorts and pushed them down over his soccer butt. She held the wide leg of her shorts open and revealed her bare pussy. She pulled him closer until she felt the tip of his hard boy boner pressed against her inner lips. Her pussy was wide open and at the perfect height for Dylan to slide his boy boner deep in her steaming core. He groaned deeply as his hard boy shaft was engulfed by her hot pussy. It was so wet and juicy and it felt awesome as it caressed his boy boner.

Grignr's hand began to remove his blade from its leather housing, but retarded the motion in face of the blades waving before his face.

"Dismiss your hand from the hilt, barbarbian, or you shall find a foot of steel sheathed in your gizzard."

Grignr weighed his position observing his plight, where-upon he took the soldier's advice as the only logical choice. To attempt to hack his way from his present predicament could only warrant certain death. He was of no mind to bring upon his own demise if an alternate path presented itself. The will to necessitate his life forced him to yield to the superior force in hopes of a moment of carlessness later upon the part of his captors in which he could effect a more plausible means of escape.

"You may steady your arms, I will go without a struggle."

"Your decision is a wise one, yet perhaps you would have been better off had you forced death," the soldier's mouth wrinkled to a sadistic grin of knowing mirth as he prodded his prisoner on with his sword point.

After an indiscriminate period of marching through slinking alleyways and dim moonlighted streets the procession confronted a massive seraglio. The palace area was surrounded by an iron grating, with a lush garden upon all sides.

"Do you like filling your sister's pussy with your hard penis?" Jon asked his sexy blond boy.

Dylan nodded yes vigorously.

"And you love having sex with your brother?" He asked Victoria.

"More than anything... I love Dylan so much... and Daddy... I want Dylan to fill me with his baby... please!!" Victoria begged her Daddy.

Please let me know if you enjoyed this story. Many of the scenes were based on requests and ideas from readers. Thanks to all who contributed. Let me know if you want it to continue and what your thoughts and ideas are for where you'd like to see the story go.

>>955043
NOW WE ARE IN THE TIME OF THE GAY CUM DADDIES

>>955048

This is quality.

The group was admitted through the gilded gateway and Grignr was ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation lustfully enhanced by the moon's shimmering rays. Upon reaching the palace the group was granted entrance, and after several minutes of explanation, led through several winding corridors to a richly draped chamber.

Confronting the group was a short stocky man seated upona golden throne. Tapestries of richly draped regal blue silk covered all walls of the chamber, while the steps leading to the throne were plated with sparkling white ivory. The man upon the throne had a naked wench seated at each of his arms, and a trusted advisor seated in back of him. At each cornwr of the chamber a guard stood at attention, with upraised pikes supported in their hands, golden chainmail adorning their torso's and barred helmets emitting scarlet plumes enshrouding their heads. The man rose from his throne to the dias surrounding it. His plush turquois robe dangled loosely from his chuncky frame.

The soldiers surrounding Grignr fell to their knees with heads bowed to the stone masonry of the floor in fearful dignity to their sovereign, leige.

"Explain the purpose of this intrusion upon my chateau!"

"Your sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we have brought this yokel before you (the soldier gestured toward Grignr) for the redress or your all knowing wisdon in judgement regarding his fate."

>>955043
You seriously over-use insults. I could cite this in the thread but I won't bother. It seems you are hung up on technical mistakes and incapable of grasping the conceptual issues at hand, this explains your taste in literature (burgess especially). I really wish you were more intelligent, I would have liked to see a good argument for equating Wilde with Nietzsche, unfortunately I guess I will be left wanting. You really don't know what projecting is, by the way. It isn't just a clever way of saying "i know you are but what am i".

>>955061

>>955057

Glad you like it! It's not mine, but is a classic called "The Eye of Argon"
"Down on your knees, lout, and pay proper homage to your sovereign!" commanded the pudgy noble of Grignr.

"By the surly beard of Mrifk, Grignr kneels to no man!" scowled the massive barbarian.

"You dare to deal this blasphemous act to me! You are indeed brave stranger, yet your valor smacks of foolishness."

"I find you to be the only fool, sitting upon your pompous throne, enhancing the rolling flabs of your belly in the midst of your elaborate luxuryand ..." The soldier standing at Grignr's side smote him heavily in the face with the flat of his sword, cutting short the harsh words and knocking his battered helmet to the masonry with an echo-ing clang.

The paunchy noble's sagging round face flushed suddenly pale, then pastily lit up to a lustrous cherry red radiance. His lips trembled with malicious rage, while emitting a muffled sibilant gibberish. His sagging flabs rolled like a tub of upset jelly, then compressed as he sucked in his gut in an attempt to conceal his softness.

>>955061
"Momma, I think I found it!" said Renesmee excitedly.

"Stay where you are, we're coming sweetheart" replied Bella as her and Edward entered the cave.

"That's definitely it" said Edward.

"It's beautiful Momma" said Renesmee.

"I have to agree, it's definitely beautiful" stated Bella.

"Will you two stay here whilst I fetch the others?" asked Edward.

"I don't think that will be a problem" replied Bella trying to stop Renesmee from getting into Airwolf.

"I'll be back in a few minutes" said Edward running out to fetch the others.

"This helicopter could be a great weapon against the volturi" said Bella.

"Good, I don't like them Momma" said Renesmee.

"When Emmett gets here, I'll ask him what armaments Airwolf has, because if it has missiles we could destroy the volturi from the air" exclaimed Bella.

"That would be good Momma because I wouldn't want any of you to get hurt or killed" said Renesmee.

A few minutes later Edward returned with the others

"Told you so!" said Emmett enthusiastically

"Alright, Alright, so now that we've found it what are we going to do with it?" asked Rosalie.

"Keep it" replied Emmett.

"Where?" asked Bella.

"We could build an underground hangar out the back of the house" replied Emmett.

"That could work, Alice?" asked Edward.

"No one will discover it" replied Alice.

"Next question, who will crew it?" asked Rosalie.

>>955061

Your opinion isn't required or valid. I don't use insults, I describe accurately. You're earning pain.

Victoria looked shocked... she had no idea that was what they had been doing... she got a huge smile... and played with Dylan soft penis. "You guys did all that while you were sailing?"

"Yeah... and a lot more," Dylan told her with a grin "... a lot more."

Victoria bent down and kissed Dylan's still slippery penis while she fondled her Daddy too.

>>955071
YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN A WORLD OF PAIN!

The prince regained his statue, then spoke to the soldiers surrounding Grignr, his face conforming to an ugly expression of sadistic humor.

"Take this uncouth heathen to the vault of misery, and be sure that his agonies are long and drawn out before death can release him."

"As you wish sire, your command shall be heeded immediately," answered the soldier on the right of Grignr as he stared into the barbarians seemingly unaffected face.

The advisor seated in the back of the noble slowly rose and advanced to the side of his master, motioning the wenches seated at his sides to remove themselves. He lowered his head and whispered to the noble.

"Eminence, the punishment you have decreed will cause much misery to this scum, yet it will last only a short time, then release him to a land beyond the sufferings of the human body. Why not mellow him in one of the subterranean vaults for a few days, then send him to life labor in one of your buried mines.

To one such as he, a life spent in the confinement of the stygian pits will be an infinitely more appropiate and lasting torture."

The noble cupped his drooping double chin in the folds of his briming palm, meditating for a moment upon the rationality of the councilor's word's, then raised his shaggy brown eyebrows and turned toward the advisor, eyes aglow.

>>955066

Yes, well said. I shouldn't have dignified them with a response to begin with.

>>955076

Her Daddy fucking him made him push her wide open to receive her brother's incestuous seed. They thrust and ground against each other until they were spent and lost in the afterglow.

"...As always Agafnd, you speak with great wisdom. Your words ring of great knowledge concerning the nature of one such as he ," sayeth , the king. The noble turned toward the prisoner with a noticable shimmer reflecting in his frog-like eyes, and his lips contorting to a greasy grin. "I have decided to void my previous decree. The prisoner shall be removed to one of the palaces underground vaults. There he shall stay until I have decided that he has sufficiently simmered, whereupon he is to be allowed to spend the remainder of his days at labor in one of my mines."

Upon hearing this, Grignr realized that his fate would be far less merciful than death to one such as he, who is used to roaming the countryside at will. A life of confinement would be more than his body and mind could stand up to. This type of life would be immeasurably worse than death.

"I shall never understand the ways if your twisted civilization. I simply defend my honor and am condemned to life confinement, by a pig who sits on his royal ass wooing whores, and knows nothing of the affairs of the land he imagines to rule!" Lectures Grignr ?

"Enough of this! Away with the slut before I loose my control!"

Seeing the peril of his position, Grignr searched for an opening. Crushing prudence to the sward, he plowed into the soldier at his left arm taking hold of his sword, and bounding to the dias supporting the prince before the startled guards could regain their composure. Agafnd leaped Grignr and his sire, but found a sword blade permeating the length of his ribs before he could loosed his weapon.

>>955067

Two thumbs up, waaay up!

The councilor slumped to his knees as Grignr slid his crimsoned blade from Agfnd's rib cage. The fat prince stood undulating in insurmountable fear before the edge of the fiery maned comet, his flabs of jellied blubber pulsating to and fro in ripples of flowing terror.

"Where is your wisdom and power now, your magjesty?" Growled Grignr.

The prince went rigid as Grignr discerned him glazing over his shoulder. He swlived to note the cause of the noble's attention, raised his sword over his head, and prepared to leash a vicious downward cleft, but fell short as the haft of a steel rimed pike clashed against his unguarded skull. Then blackness and solitude. Silence enshrouding and ever peaceful reind supreme.

"Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha, Haaaa...", nobly cackled.

-3-

Consciousness returned to Grignr in stygmatic pools as his mind gradually cleared of the cobwebs cluttering its inner recesses, yet the stygian cloud of charcoal ebony remained. An incompatible shield of blackness, enhanced by the bleak abscense of sound.

Grignr's muddled brain reeled from the shock of the blow he had recieved to the base of his skull. The events leading to his predicament were slow to filter back to him. He dickered with the notion that he was dead and had descended or sunk, however it may be, to the shadowed land beyond the the aperature of the grave, but rejected this hypothesis when his memory sifted back within his grips. This was not the land of the dead, it was something infinitely more precarious than anything the grave could offer. Death promised an infinity of peace, not the finite misery of an inactive life of confined torture, forever concealed from the life bearing shafts of the beloved rising sun. The orb that had been before taken for granted, yet now cherished above all else. To be forever refused further glimpses of the snow capped summits of the land of his birth, never again to witness the thrill of plundering unexplored lands beyond the crest of a bleeding horizon, and perhaps worst of all the denial to ever again encompass the lustful excitement of caressing the naked curves of the body of a trim yound wench.

This was indeed one of the buried chasms of Hell concealed within the inner depths of the palace's despised interior. A fearful ebony chamber devised to drive to the brinks of insanity the minds of the unfortunately condemned, through the inapt solitude of a limbo of listless dreary silence.

-3 1/2-

A tightly rung elliptical circle or torches cast their wavering shafts prancing morbidly over the smooth surface of a rectangular, ridged alter. Expertly chisled forms of grotesque gargoyles graced the oblique rim protruberating the length of the grim orifice of death, staring forever ahead into nothingness in complete ignorance of the bloody rites enacted in their prescence. Brown flaking stains decorated the golden surface of the ridge surrounding the alter, which banked to a small slit at the lower right hand corner of the altar. The slit stood above a crudely pounded pail which had several silver meshed chalices hanging at its sides. Dangling at the rimof golden mallet, the handle of which was engraved with images of twisted faces and groved at its far end with slots designed for a snug hand grip. The head of the mallet was slightly larger than a clenched fist and shaped into a smooth oval mass.

Encircling the marble altar was a congregation of leering shamen. Eerie chants of a bygone age, originating unknown eons before the memory of man, were being uttered from the buried recesses of the acolytes' deep lings. Orange paint was smeared in generous globules over the tops of thw Priests' wrinkled shaven scalps, while golden rings projected from the lobes of their pink ears. Ornate robes of lusciour purple satin enclosed their bulging torsos, attached around their waists with silvered silk lashes latched with ebony buckles in the shape of morose mis-shaped skulls. Dangling around their necks were oval fashoned medalions held by thin gold chains, featuring in their centers blood red rubys which resembled crimson fetish eyeballs. Cushoning their bare feet were plush red felt slippers with pointed golden spikes projecting from their tips.

She was convicted of murdering ten teenage girls, including her own common law step-daughter, Charmaine, and also of a serious sexual assault on a woman in January 1973. The Police suspect she was involved in further murders for which she has not been convicted. She killed Charmaine alone, but her other murders were all believed to have been carried out with her husband and fellow serial killer, Fred West.

I, for one, hope I am not alone in hoping that I hope that OP got what he was looking for in this clusterfuck of a thread.

Situated in front of the altar, and directly adjacent to the copper pail was a massive jade idol; a misshaped, hideous bust of the shamens' pagan diety. The shimmering green idol was placed in a sitting posture on an ornately carved golden throne raised upon a round, dvory plated dias; it bulging arms and webbed hands resting on the padded arms of the seat. Its head was entwined in golden snake-like coils hanging over its oblong ears, which tappered off to thin hollow points. Its nose was a bulging triangular mass, sunken in at its sides with tow gaping nostrils. Dramatic beneath the nostrils was a twisted, shaggy lipped mouth, giving the impression of a slovering sadistic grimace.

At the foot of the heathen diety a slender, pale faced female, naked but for a golden, jeweled harness enshrouding her huge outcropping breasts, supporting long silver laces which extended to her thigh, stood before the pearl white field with noticable shivers traveling up and down the length of her exquisitely molded body. Her delicate lips trembled beneath soft narrow hands as she attemped to conceal herself from the piercing stare of the ambivalent idol.

Glaring directly down towards her was the stoney, cycloptic face of the bloated diety. Gaping from its single obling socket was scintillating, many fauceted scarlet emerald, a brilliant gem seeming to possess a life all of its own. A priceless gleaming stone, capable of domineering the wealth of conquering empires...the eye of Argon.

>>955098

Yes he did: see >>954144.

>>955100

YEEEEEEEEEAH THE TITLE!

THEY MENTIONED THE TITLE IN THE STORY.

I LOVE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS.

Dylan slowly mounted his sister and he began to suck on her hard nipple. Dylan loved the taste of his sister's flesh and the intense feelings of having his hard penis deep in her pussy. She moaned loudly as he thrust and he felt her body shudder.

-4-

All knowledge of measuring time had escaped Grignr. When a person is deprived of the sun, moon, and stars, he looses all conception of time as he had previously understood it. It seemed as if years had passed if time were being measured by terms of misery and mental anguish, yet he estimated that his stay had only been a few days in length. He has slept three times and had been fed five times since his awakening in the crypt. However, when the actions of the body are restricted its needs are also affected. The need for nourishmnet and slumber are directly proportional to the functions the body has performed, meaning that when free and active Grignr may become hungry every six hours and witness the desire for sleep every fifteen hours, whereas in his present condition he may encounter the need for food every ten hours, and the want for rest every twenty hours. All methods he had before depended upon were extinct in the dismal pit. Hence, he may have been imprisoned for ten minutes or ten years, he did not know, resulting in a disheartened emotion deep within his being.

The food, if you can honor the moldering lumps of fetid mush to that extent, was born to him by two guards who opened a portal at the top of his enclosure and shoved it to him in wooden bowls, retrieving the food and water bowels from his previous meal at the same time, after which they threw back the bolts on the iron latch and returned to their other duties. Since deprived of all other means of nourishment, Grignr was impelled to eat the tainted slop in order to ward off the paings of starvation, though as he stuffed it into his mouth with his filthy fingers and struggled to force it down his throat, he imagined it was that which had been spurned by the hounds stationed at various segments of the palace.

There was little in the baren vault that could occupy his body or mind. He had paced out the length and width of the enclosure time and time again and tested every granite slab which consisted the walls of the prison in hopes of finding a hidden passage to freedom, all of which was to no avail other than to keep him busy and distract his mind from wandering to thoughts of what he believed was his future. He had memorized the number of strides from one end to the other of the cell, and knew the exact number of slabs which made up the bleak dungeon. Numorous schemes were introduced and alternately discarded in turn as they succored to unravel to him no means of escape which stood the slightest chance of sucess.

Anguish continued to mount as his means of occupation were rapidly exhausted. Suddenly without no tive, he wasrouted from his contemplations as he detected a faint scratching sound at the end of the crypt opposite him. The sound seemed to be caused by something trying to scrape away at the grantite blocks the floor of the enclosure consisted of, the sandy scratching of something like an animal's claws.

Grignr gradually groped his way to the other end of the vault carefully feeling his way along with his hands ahead of him. When a few inches from the wall, a loud, penetrating squeal, and the scampering of small padded feet reverberated from the walls of the roughly hewn chamber.

Grignr threw his hands up to shield his face, and flung himself backwards upon his buttocks. A fuzzy form bounded to his hairy chest, burying its talons in his flesh while gnashing toward his throat with its grinding white teeth;its sour, fetid breath scortching the sqirming barbarians dilating nostrils. Grignr grappled with the lashing flexor muscles of the repugnant body of a garganuan brownhided rat, striving to hold its razor teeth from his juicy jugular, as its beady grey organs of sight glazed into the flaring emeralds of its prey.

Taking hold of the rodent around its lean, growling stomach with both hands Grignr pried it from his crimson rent breast, removing small patches of flayed flesh from his chest in the motion between the squalid black claws of the starving beast. Holding the rodent at arms length, he cupped his righthand over its frothing face, contrcting his fingers into a vice-like fist over the quivering head. Retaining his grips on the rat, grignr flexed his outstretched arms while slowly twisting his right hand clockwise and his left hand counter clockwise motion. The rodent let out a tortured squall, drawing scarlet as it violently dug its foam flecked fangs into the barbarians sweating palm, causing his face to contort to an ugly grimace as he cursed beneath his braeth.

With a loud crack the rodents head parted from its squirming torso, sending out a sprinking shower of crimson gore, and trailing a slimy string of disjointed vertebrae, snapped trachea, esophagus, and jugular, disjointed hyoid bone, morose purpled stretched hide, and blood seared muscles.

Flinging the broken body to the floor, Grignr shook his blood streaked hands and wiped them against his thigh until dry, then wiped the blood that had showered his face and from his eyes. Again sitting himself upon the jagged floor, he prepared to once more revamp his glum meditations. He told himself that as long as he still breathed the gust of life through his lungs, hope was not lost; he told himself this, but found it hard to comprehend in his gloomy surroundings. Yet he was still alive, his bulging sinews at their peak of marvel, his struggling mind floating in a miral of impressed excellence of thought. Plot after plot sifted through his mind in energetic contemplations.

Then it hit him. Minutes may have passed in silent thought or days, he could not tell, but he stumbled at last upon a plan that he considered as holding a slight margin of plausibility.

He might die in the attempt, but he knew he would not submit without a final bloody struggle. It was not a foolproof plan, yet it built up a store of renewed vortexed energy in his overwroughtsoul, though he might perish in the execution of the escape, he would still be escaping the life of infinite torture in store forhim. Either way he would still cheat the gloating prince of the succored revenge his sadistic mind craved so dearly.

The guards would soon come to bear him off to the prince's buried mines of dread, giving him the sought after opportunity to execute his newly formulated plan. Groping his way along the rough floor Grignr finally found his tool in a pool of congealed gore; the carcass of the decapitated rodent; the tool that the very filth he had been sentenced too, spawned. When the time came for action he would have to be prepared, so he set himself to rending the sticky hulk in grim silence, searching by the touch of his fingertips for the lever to freedom.

>>954944
...whatcha say nigga?

>>955132

Vickie could not believe it. Just having Dylan enter her and suck on her breast bud was enough to give her a little of the good feeling. She wanted to feel his hot sperm squirting into her pussy. She needed him to fill her with a baby... it would help all of them deal with the ache of losing her mom. A tear ran down her cheek as her Daddy sucked her other nipple.

>>955130

Moar!

>>955142

-5-

"Up to the altar and be done with it wench;" ordered a fidgeting shaman as he gave the female a grim stare accompanied by the wrinkling of his lips to a mirthful grin of delight.

The girl burst into a slow steady whimper, stooping shakily to her knees and cringing woefully from the priest with both arms wound snake-like around the bulging jade jade shin rising before her scantily attired figure. Her face was redly inflamed from the salty flow of tears spouting from her glassy dilated eyeballs.

With short, heavy footfals the priest approached the female, his piercing stare never wavering from her quivering young countenance. Halting before the terrified girl he projected his arm outward and motioned her to arise with an upward movement of his hand. the girl's whimpering increased slightly and she sunk closer to the floor rather than arising. The flickering torches outlined her trim build with a weird ornate glow as it cast a ghostly shadow dancing in horrid waves of splendor over smoothly worn whiteness of the marble hewn altar.

The shaman's lips curled back farther, exposing a set of blackened, decaying molars which transformed his slovenly grin into a wide greasy arc of sadistic mirth and alternately interposed into the female a strong sensation of stomach curdling nausea. "Have it as you will female;" gloated the enhanced priest as he bent over at the waist, projecting his ape-like arms forward, and clasped the female's slender arms with his hairy round fists. With an inward surge of of his biceps he harshly jerked the trembling girl to her feet and smothered her salty wet cheeks with the moldy touch of his decrepid, dull red lips.

>>955158

WHEEEEE!

The vile stench of the Shaman's hot fetid breath over came the nauseated female with a deep soul searing sickness, causing her to wrench her head backwards and regurgitate a slimy, orangewhite stream of swelling gore over the richly woven purple robe of the enthused acolyte.

The priest's lips trembled with a malicious rage as he removed his callous paws from the girl's arms and replaced them with tightly around her undulating neck, shaking her violently to and fro.

The girl gasped a tortured groan from her clamped lungs, her sea blue eyes bulging forth from damp sockets. Cocking her right foot backwards, she leashed it desperately outwards with the strength of a demon possessed, lodging her sandled foot squarely between the shaman's testicles.

The startled priest released his crushing grip, crimping his body over at the waist overlooking his recessed belly; wide open in a deep chasim. His face flushed to a rose red shade of crimson, eyelids fluttering wide with eyeballs protruding blindly outwards from their sockets to their outmost perimeters, while his lips quivered wildly about allowing an agonized wallow to gust forth as his breath billowed from burning lungs. His hands reached out clutching his urinary gland as his knees wobbled rapidly about for a few seconds then buckled, causing the ruptured shaman to collapse in an egg huddled mass to the granite pavement, rolling helplessly about in his agony.

The pathetic screeches of the shaman groveling in dejected misery upon the hand hewn granite laid pavement, worn smooth by countless hours of arduous sweat and toil, a welter of ichor oozing through his clenched hands, attracted the purturbed attention of his comrades from their foetid ulations. The actions of this this rebellious wench bespoke the creedence of an unheard of sacrilige. Never before in a lost maze of untold eons had a chosen one dared to demonstrate such blasphemy in the face of the cult's idolic diety.

The girl cowered in unreasoning terror, helpless in the face of the emblazoned acolytes' rage; her orchid tusseled face smothered betwixt her bulging bosom as she shut her curled lashed tightly hoping to open them and find herself awakening from a morbid nightmare. yet the hand of destiny decreed her no such mercy, the antagonized pack of leering shaman converging tensely upon her prostrate form were entangled all too lividly in the grim web of reality.

Shuddering from the clamy touch of the shaman as they grappled with her supple form, hands wrenching at her slender arms and legs in all directions, her bare body being molested in the midst of a labyrnth of orange smudges, purpled satin, and mangled skulls, shadowed in an eerie crimson glow; her confused head reeled then clouded in a mist of enshrouding ebony as she lapsed beneath the protective sheet of unconsiousness to a land peach and resign.

-6-

"Take hold of this rope," said the first soldier, "and climb out from your pit, slut. Your presence is requested in another far deeper hell hole."

Grignr slipped his right hand to his thigh, concealing a small opaque object beneath the folds of the g-string wrapped about his waist. Brine wells swelled in Grignr's cold, jade squinting eyes, which grown accustomed to the gloom of the stygian pools of ebony engulfing him, were bedazzled and blinded by flickerering radiance cast forth by the second soldiers's resin torch.

Tightly gripped in the second soldier's right hand, opposite the intermittent torch, was a large double edged axe, a long leather wound oaken handled transfixing the center of the weapon's iron head. Adorning the torso's of both of the sentries were thin yet sturdy hauberks, the breatplates of which were woven of tightly hemmed twines of reinforced silver braiding. Cupping the soldiers' feet were thick leather sandals, wound about their shins to two inches below their knees. Wrapped about their waists were wide satin girdles, with slender bladed poniards dangling loosely from them, the hilts of which featured scarlet encrusted gems. Resting upon the manes of their heads, and reaching midway to their brows were smooth copper morions. Spiraling the lower portion of the helmet were short, up-curved silver spikes, while a golden hump spired from the top of each basinet. Beneath their chins, wound around their necks, and draping their clad shoulders dangled regal purple satin cloaks, which flowed midway to the soldiers feet.

hand over hand, feet braced against the dank walls of the enclosure, huge Grignr ascended from the moldering dephs of the forlorn abyss. His swelled limbs, stiff due to the boredom of a timeless inactivity, compounded by the musty atmosture and jagged granite protuberan against his body, craved for action. The opportunity now presenting itself served the purpose of oiling his rusty joints, and honing his dulled senses.

He braced himself, facing the second soldier. The sentry's stature was was wildly exaggerated in the glare of the flickering cresset cuppex in his right fist. His eyes were wide open in a slightly slanted owlish glaze, enhanced in their sinister intensity by the hawk-bill curve of his nose andpale yellow pique of his cheeks.

"Place your hands behind your back," said the second soldier as he raised his ax over his right shoulder blade and cast it a wavering glance. "We must bind your wrists to parry any attempts at escape. Be sure to make the knot a stout one, Broig, we wouldn't want our guest to take leave of our guidance."

Broig grasped Grignr's left wrist and reached for the barbarians's right wrist. Grignr wrenched his right arm free and swilveled to face Broig, reach- beneath his loin cloth with his right hand. The sentry grappled at his girdle for the sheathed dagger, but recoiled short of his intentions as Grignr's right arm swept to his gorge. The soldier went limp, his bobbing eyes rolling beneath fluttering eyelids, a deep welt across his spouting gullet. Without lingering to observe the result of his efforts, Grignr dropped to his knees. The second soldier's axe cleft over Grignr's head in a blze of silvered ferocity, severing several scarlet locks from his scalp. Coming to rest in his fellow's stomach, the iron head crashed through mail and flesh with splintering force, spilling a pool of crimsoned entrails over the granite paving.

Before the sentry could wrench his axe free from his comrade's carcass, he found Grignr's massive hands clasped about his throat, choking the life from his clamped lungs. With a zealous grunt, the Ecordian flexed his tightly corded biceps, forcing the grim faced soldier to one knee. The sentry plunged his right fist into Grignr's face, digging his grimy nails into the barbarians flesh. Ejaculating a curse through rasping teeth, grignr surged the bulk of his weight foreard, bowling the beseiged soldier over upon his back. The sentry's arms collapsed to his thigh, shuddering convulsively; his bulging eyes staring blindly from a bloated ,cherry red face.

Rising to his feet, Grignr shook the bllod from his eyes, ruffling his surly red mane as a brush fire swaying to the nightime breeze. Stooping over the spr sprawled corpse of the first soldier, Grignr retrieved a small white object from a pool of congealing gore. Snorting a gusty billow of mirth, he once more concealed th e tiny object beneath his loin cloth; the tediously honed pelvis bone of the broken rodent. Returning his attention toward the second soldier, Grignr turned to the task of attiring his limbs. To move about freely through the dim recesses of the castle would require the grotesque garb of its soldiery.

Utilizing the silence and stealth aquired in the untamed climbs of his childhood, Grignr slink through twisting corridors, and winding stairways, lighting his way with the confisticated torch of his dispatched guardian. Knowing where his steps were leading to, Grignr meandered aimlessly in search of an exit from the chateau's dim confines. The wild blood coarsing through his veins yearned for the undefiled freedom of the livid wilderness lands.

Coming upon a fork in the passage he treaked, voices accompanied by clinking footfalls discerned to his sensitive ears from the left corridor. Wishing to avoid contact, Grignr veered to the right passageway. If aquested as to the purpose of his presence, his barbarous accent would reveal his identity, being that his attire was not that of the castle's mercenary troops.

In grim silence Grignr treaded down the dingily lit corridor; a stalking panther creeping warily along on padded feet. After an interminable period of wandering through the dull corridors; no gaps to break the monotony of the cold gray walls, Grignr espied a small winding stairway. Descending the flight of arced granite slabs to their posterior, Grignr was confronted by a short haalway leading to a tall arched wooden doorway.

Halting before the teeming portal portal, Grignr restes his shaggy head sideways against the barrier. Detecting no sounds from within, he grasped the looped metel handle of the door; his arms surging with a tremendous effort of bulging muscles, yet the door would not budge. Retrieving his ax from where he had sheathed it beneath his girdle, he hefted it in his mighty hands with an apiesed grunt, and wedging one of its blackened edges into the crack between the portal and its iron rimed sill. Bracing his sandaled right foot against the rougjly hewn wall, teeth tightly clenched, Grignr appilevered the oaken haft, employing it as a lever whereby to pry open the barrier. The leather wound hilt bending to its utmost limits of endurance, the massive portal swung open with a grating of snapped latch and rusty iron hinges.

Glancing about the dust swirled room in the gloomily dancing glare of his flickering cresset, Grignr eyed evidences of the enclosure being nothing more than a forgotten storeroom. Miscellaneous articles required for the maintainance of a castle were piled in disorganized heaps at infrequent intervals toward the wall opposite the barbarian's piercing stare. Utilizing long, bounding strides, Grignr paced his way over to the mounds of supplies to discover if any articles of value were contained within their midst.

Detecting a faint clinking sound, Grignr sprawed to his left side with the speed of a striking cobra, landing harshly upon his back; torch and axe loudly clattering to the floor in a morass of sparks and flame. A elmwoven board leaped from collapsed flooring, clashing against the jagged flooring and spewing a shower of orange and yellow sparks over Grignr's startled face. Rising uneasily to his feet, the half stunned Ecordian glared down at the grusome arm of death he had unwittingly sprung. "Mrifk!"

If not for his keen auditory organs and lighting steeled reflexes, Grignr would have been groping through the shadowed hell-pits of the Grim Reaper. He had unknowingly stumbled upon an ancient, long forgotton booby trap; a mistake which would have stunted the perusal of longevity of one less agile. A mechanism, similar in type to that of a minature catapult was concealed beneath two collapsable sections of granite flooring. The arm of the device was four feet long, boasting razor like cleats at regular intervals along its face with which it was to skewer the luckless body of its would be victim. Grignr had stepped upon a concealed catch which relaesed a small metal latch beneath the two granite sections, causing them to fall inward, and thereby loose the spiked arm of death they precariously held in.

Partially out of curiosity and partially out of an inordinate fear of becoming a pincushion for a possible second trap, Grignr plunged his torch into the exposed gap in the floor. The floor of a second chamber stood out seven feet below the glare. Tossing his torch through the aperature, Grignr grasped the side of an adjoining tile, dropping down.

Glancing about the room, Grignr discovered that he had decended into the palace's mausoleum. Rectangular stone crypts cluttered the floor at evenly placed intervals. The tops of the enclosures were plated with thick layers of virgin gold, while the sides were plated with white ivory; at one time sparkling, but now grown dingy through the passage of the rays of allencompassing mother time. Featured at the head of each sarcophagus in tarnished silver was an expugnisively carved likeness of its rotting inhabitant.

A dingy atmosphere pervaded the air of the chamber; which sealed in the enclosure for an unknown period had grown thick and stale. Intermingling with the curdled currents was the repugnant stench of slowly moldering flesh, creeping ever slowly but surely through minute cracks in the numerous vaults. Due to the embalming of the bodies, their flesh decayed at a much slower rate than is normal, yet the nauseous oder was none the less repellant.

Towering over Grignr's head was the trap he released. The mechanism of the miniaturized catapolt was cluttered with mildew and cobwebs. Notwithstanding these relics of antiquity, its efficiency remained unimpinged. To the right of the trap wound a short stairway through a recess in the ceiling; a concealed entrance leading to the mausoleum for which the catapult had obviously been erected as a silent, relentless guardian.

Climbing up the side of the device, Grignr set to the task of resetting its mechanism. In the e event that a search was organized, it would prove well to leave no evidence of his presence open to wandering eyes. Besides, it might even serve to dwindle the size of an opposing force.

Descending from his perch, Grignr was startled by a faintly muffled scream of horrified desperation. His hair prickled yawkishly in disorganized clumps along his scalp. As a cold danced along the length of his spinal cord. No moral/mortal barrier, human or otherwise, was capable of arousing the numbing sensation of fear inside of Grignr's smoldering soul. However, he was overwrought by the forces of the barbarians' instinctive fear of the supernatural. His mighty thews had always served to adequately conquer any tangible foe., but the intangible was something distant and terrible. Dim horrifying tales passed by word of mouth over glimmering camp fires and skins of wine had more than once served the purpose of chilling the marrowed core of his sturdy limbed bones.

Yet, the scream contained a strangely human quality, unlike that which Grignr imagined would come from the lungs of a demon or spirit, making Grignr take short nervous strides advancing to the sarcophagus from which the sound was issuing. Clenching his teeth in an attempt to steel his jangled nerves, Grignr slid the engraved slab from the vault with a sharp rasp of grinding stone. Another long drawn cry of terror infested anguish met the barbarian, scoring like the shrill piping of a demented banshee; piercing the inner fibres of his superstitious brain with primitive dread dread and awe.

>>955212
Alright, I think the thread is pretty much dead.
You can stop.

>>955219

Well, I have to finish putting up the rest of chapter 6, but I'll sage it.
-----
Stooping over to espy the tomb's contents, the glittering Ecordians nostrills were singed by the scorching aroma of a moldering corpse, long shut up and fermenting; the same putrid scent which permeated the entire chamber, though multiplied to a much more concentrated dosage. The shriveled, leathery packet of crumbling bones and dried flacking flesh offered no resistance, but remained in a fixed position of perpetual vigilance, watching over its dim abode from hollow gaping sockets.

The tortured crys were not coming from the tomb but from some hidden depth below! Pulling the reaking corpse from its resting place, Grignr tossed it to the floor in a broken, mangled heap. Upon one side of the crypt's bottom was attached a series of tiny hinges while running parallel along the opposite side of a convex railing like protruberance; laid so as to appear as a part of the interior surface of the sarcophagus.

Raising the slab upon its bronze hinges, long removed from the gaze of human eyes, Grignr percieved a scene which caused his blood to smolder not unlike bubbling, molten lava. Directly below him a whimpering female lay stretched upon a smooth surfaced marble altar. A pack of grasy faced shamen clustered around her in a tight circular formation. Crouched over the girl was a tall, potbellied priest; his face dominated by a disgusting, open mouthed grimace of sadistic glee. Suspended from the acolyte's clenched right hand was a carven oval faced mallet, which he waved menacingly over the girl's shadowed face; an incoherent gibberish flowing from his grinning, thick lipped mouth.

In the face of the amorphos, broad breated female, stretched out aluringly before his gaping eyes; the universal whim of nature filing a plea of despair inside of his white hot soul; Grignr acted in the only manner he could perceive. Giving vent to a hoarse, throat rending battle cry, Grignr plunged into the midst of the startled shamen; torch simmering in his left hand andax twirling in his right hand.

A gaunt skull faced priest standing at the far side of the altar clutched desperately at his throat, coughing furiously in an attempt to catch his breath. Lurching helplessly to and fro, the acolyte pitched headlong against the gleaming base of a massive jade idol. Writhing agonizedly against the hideous image, foam flecking his chalk white lips, the priest struggled helplessly - - - the victim of an epileptic siezure.

Startled by the barbarians stunning appearance, the chronic fit of their fellow, and the fear that Grignr might be the avantgarde of a conquering force dedicated to the cause of destroying their degenerated cult, the saman momentarily lost their composure. Giving vent to heedless pandemonium, the priests fell easy prey to Grignr's sweeping arc of crimsoned death and maiming distruction.

The acolyte performing the sacrifice took a vicious blow to the stomach; hands clutching vitals and severed spinal cord as he sprawled over the altar. The disor anized priests lurched and staggered with split skulls, dismembered limbs, and spewing entrails before the enraged Ecordian's relentless onslaught. The howles of the maimed and dying reverberated against the walls of the tiny chamber; a chorus of hell frought despair; as the granite floor ran red with blood. The entire chamber was encompassed in the heat of raw savage butchery as Grignr luxuriated in the grips of a primitive, beastly blood lust.

Presently all went silenet save for the ebbing groans of the sinking shaman and Grignr's heaving breath accompanied by several gusty curses. The well had run dry. No more lambs remained for the slaughter.

The rampaging stead of death having taken of Grignr for the moment, left the barbarian free to the exploitation of his other perusials. Towering over his head was the misshaped image of the cult's hideous diety - - - Argon. The fantastic size of the idol in consideration of its being of pure jade was enough to cause the senses of any man to stagger and reel, yet thus was not the case for the behemoth. he had paid only casual notice to this incredible fact, while riviting the whole of his attention upon the jewel protruding from the idol's sole socket; its masterfully cut faucets emitting blinding rays of hypnotising beauty. After all, a man cannot slink from a heavily guarded palace while burdened down by the intense bulk of a squatting statue, providing of course that the idol can even be hefted, which in fact was beyond the reaches of Grignr's coarsing stamina. On the other hand, the jewel, gigantic as it was, would not present a hinderence of any mean concern.

"Help me ... please ... I can make it well worth your while," pleaded a soft, anguish strewn voice wafting over Grignr's shoulders as he plucked the dull red emerald from its roots. Turning, Grignr faced the female that had lured him into this blood bath, but whom had become all but forgotten in the heat of the battle.

"You"; ejaculated the Ecordian in a pleased tone. "I though that I had seen the last of you at the tavern, but verilly I was mistaken." Grignr advanced into the grips of the female's entrancing stare, severing the golden chains that held her captive upon the altars highly polished face of ornamental limestone.

As Grignr lifted the girl from the altar, her arms wound dexterously about his neck; soft and smooth against his harsh exterior. "Art thou pleased that we have chanced to meet once again?" Grignr merely voiced an sighed grunt, returning the damsels embrace while he smothered her trim, delicate lips between the coarsing protrusions of his reeking maw.

"Let us take leave of this retched chamber." Stated Grignr as he placed the female upon her feet. She swooned a moment, causing Grignr to giver her support then regained her stance. "Art thou able to find your way through the accursed passages of this castle? Mrifk! Every one of the corridors of this damned place are identical."

"Aye; I was at one time a slave of prince Agaphim. His clammy touch sent a sour swill through my belly, but my efforts reaped a harvest. I gained the pig's liking whereby he allowed me the freedom of the palace. It was through this means that I eventually managed escape at the western gate. His trust found him with a dagger thrust his ribs," the wench stated whimsicoracally.

"What were you doing at the tavern whence I discovered you?" asked Grignr as he lifted the female through the opening into the mausoleum.

"I had sought to lay low from the palace's guards as they conducted their search for me. The tavern was seldom frequented by the palace guards and my identity was unknown to the common soldiers. It was through the disturbance that you caused that the palace guards were attracted to the tavern. I was dragged away shortly after you were escorted to the palace."

"What are you called by female?"

"Carthena, daughter of Minkardos, Duke of Barwego, whose lands border along the northwestern fringes of Gorzom. I was paid as homage to Agaphim upon his thirty-eighth year," husked the femme!

"And I am called a barbarian!" Grunted Grignr in a disgusted tone!

"Aye! The ways of our civilization are in many ways warped and distorted, but what is your calling," she queried, bustily?

"Grignr of Ecordia."

"Ah, I have heard vaguely of Ecordia. It is the hill country to the far east of the Noregolean Empire. I have also heard Agaphim curse your land more than once when his troops were routed in the unaccustomed mountains and gorges." Sayeth she.

"Aye. My people are not tarnished by petty luxuries and baubles. They remain fierce and unconquerable in their native climes." After reaching the hidden panel at the head of the stairway, Grignr was at a loss in regard to its operation. His fiercest heaves were as pebbles against burnished armour! Carthena depressed a small symbol included within the elaborate design upon the panel whereopen it slowly slid into a cleft in the wall. "How did you come to be the victim of those crazed shamen?" Quested Grignr as he escorted Carthena through the piles of rummage on the left side of the trap.

"By Agaphim's orders I was thrust into a secluded cell to await his passing of sentence. By some means, the Priests of Argon acquired a set of keys to the cell. They slew the guard placed over me and abducted me to the chamber in which you chanced to come upon the scozsctic sacrifice. Their hell-spawned cult demands a sacrifice once every three moons upon its full journey through the heavens. They were startled by your unannounced appearance through the fear that you had been sent by Agaphim. The prince would surely have submitted them to the most ghastly of tortures if he had ever discovered their unfaithfulness to Sargon, his bastard diety. Many of the partakers of the ritual were high nobles and high trustees of the inner palace; Agaphim's pittiless wrath would have been unparalled."

"They have no more to fear of Agaphim now!" Bellowed Grignr in a deep mirthful tome; a gleeful smirk upon his face. "I have seen that they were delivered from his vengence."

Engrossed by Carthena's graceful stride and conversation Grignr failed to take note of the footfalls rapidly approaching behind him. As he swung aside the arched portal linking the chamber with the corridors beyond, a maddened, blood lusting screech reverberated from his ear drums. Seemingly utilizing the speed of thought, Grignr swiveled to face his unknown foe. With gaping eyes and widened jaws, Grignr raised his axe above his surly mein; but he was too late.

------
That's the end of chapter 6. The rest can be found at:
http://www-users.cs.york.ac (dot) uk/~susan/sf/eyeargon/eyeargon.htm
---
And for the record, the guy comparing Nietzsche and Wilde was an ass.

>>955251

No he wasn't, he was your owner.

Wilde, the English-language Nietzsche! What a writer.

The problem you all face, scum-suckers of Set, is that my will is implacable, while you're just some dumb goons.