The Tragic Amours of Erysichton
by Don Juan
 
(MF, MF+, FF, FMFM, oral, solo, fantasy, myth, fist)
 
TWAS a fine day in the land of the gods, and Erysichton was cavorting about the 
fine country with his entourage of troglodytes and ne’er-do-wells. It was indeed 
in the bleak midwinter in which we set our tragic tale. November had fallen like 
a delicate flower upon a corpse, and the children of the land could be seen to 
play with a certain preternatural grace. It was the eve of Guy Fawkes and 
throughout this marvellous kingdom Kent’s fledgling had busied themselves with 
the task of collecting firewood for the coming celebration.
 
Son of Triopas, our young Odysseus was endowed with all the arrogance and 
impiety of his father. He was a handsome young man who sweat charisma through 
his pores and acted with a deliberate passion and ferocity which seemed more 
characteristic of animal than man. But of course Erysichton knew full well he 
was handsome too, in fact he put the narcissus in narcissusistic.  Born under a 
setting sun and possessed of the stamina of a demigod, his father was determined 
from birth that his son should grow up to be, if nothing else, a man.  
 
The friends Erysichton chose were out of necessity rather than want of anything, 
let alone companionship.  Aesthetically, they bore little resemblance to 
anything even remotely physically attractive, and mentally they had a little to 
be desired.  Erysichton had slowly moulded his friends into his followers and in 
doing so had distanced himself from everybody around him leaving this solitary 
Odysseus with much time for contemplation and much opportunity to achieve his 
own ends.
 
This seemingly innocent hunt had led Erysichton and his comrades to the kingdom 
of the gypsies. The gypsies are a foul bunch of work-shy, thieving degenerates 
who care little for the customs or values of any society, let alone that of 
England.
 
“We’ve not got much fucking wood have we yet, you stupid bunch of fucking 
cunts?”  Eloquently proclaimed Erysichton.
“Yeah, we know but we are in the fucking gypsy area now aren’t we.” Rejoined 
Sebastian.
“What’s your fucking point you little fucking spunk bubble?”
“Look it’s like this . . .” Offered one of the troupe.
“Like what?”  He expostulated almost incredulously.
“We can’t fucking well go in there!” He said as he wildly gesticulated in an 
effort to point in a particular direction.
“Why are you swearing? I’m not swearing.”
“We are going to have to leave you alone on this one.”
“No you're fucking going in there.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No.”
“YES, YES, YES, YES!”
“We can’t do fucking we’re this we’re afraid.”
“I obscenity in the milk of thy fear.”
“Now that’s the last fucking straw. Thou hast resorted to trying to parody 
Hemingway.  Thou shalt walk alone on this, thy mission.”
“Thou hast the stomach of a pomidor.”
“Balls to pomidors. You’re out of your fucking mind.”
“Whatever I am, that is not something I could admit to.”
“Well it’s fucking true alright. You are out of your fucking mind.  No matter 
what you do or say will change our minds.”
“Then fare thee well strumpets.” Erysichton exclaimed making a resigned gesture 
of dismissal.
 
Erysichton’s comrades aggressively sauntered off into the distance, leaving our 
young hero on the path to his fate.  Unfortunately the path having been recently 
trodden by what appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent 
congregation of travellers, left this trail so implausibly scarred with the 
faecal matter of this strange people to make it look as though it were the path 
to hell. But “fuck it” he thought, he needed wood. 
 
Donned in the height of fashion, Erysichton not so much walked as waded through 
the wasteland.  Within a short time, our hero was chanced by the merry songs of 
the gypsy folk playing in a field nearby.  Although he could not see the 
performers, he could hear the sound of their off-key wailings drift heavily 
through the air.
 
It had been raining a great deal that November so most of the wood that would 
have been perfectly suitable otherwise was now saturated with heaven’s waters.  
Erysichton could not be sure why he was drawn to this area or why he believed 
the wood here would be any better, nevertheless he was correct in assuming that 
here would be precisely what he had searched for.  
 
Erysichton wandered through several clusters of trees, still clearly damp, until 
he came to an area which somehow seemed to suggest there was something slightly 
different in the land.  Looking up unto the skyline Erysichton discovered a 
curious autumnal fruit of the likes he knew not of.  Aesthetically beautiful 
though it was these few trees were exactly what he believed he had been in 
search of.
 
Having his axe to hand meant that Erysichton needed only to fell this mighty 
tree in order to reap the rewards he so sought.  He swung the axe round to rest 
on his shoulder, then with all his might heaved his tool through the air to 
embed its edge into the tree.  After having done this a few times and made a 
great fucking racket Erysichton had unfortunately stirred the attention of a 
rather vengeful gypsy.
 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Screamed the surprisingly attractive, but still 
very slutty looking gypsy girl. “Do you have any fucking idea what you are 
cutting down there?” She continued, obviously not allowing Erysichton the chance 
to actually answer back to any of these pointlessly rhetorical questions.
 
Of course Erysichton did not know that he was cutting into a tree which was 
sacred to these people.  Nor did he care, after all they were gypsies.
 
“Oh you like this eh bitch?” He said, as he flexed his manly pecs and swung the 
axe once more into the wood, producing a resounding crack.
“Will you fucking stop that or not?” Again another rhetorical question issued 
forth from the mouth of the gypsy who just happened to have a fine rack.
 
The succession of questions of the part of the gypsy and the manly responses on 
behalf of Erysichton came to nothing but frustration.  The gypsy was clearly 
distraught and her feeble mind soon turned to violence.  She began to formulate 
a plan in her mind a plan of not so much fiendishly ingenious brilliance as it 
was pretty fucking stupid, though it did have murderous intents.
 
The gypsy girl went by the name of Demeter, and it was in her sacred grove which 
Erysichton had dared to fell timber.  It had first occurred to Demeter to simply 
stab the fuck out of Erysichton and kill him that way, until she realised that 
he had an axe and she had but a knife so in order to get him into a position 
where he would be compromised she would have to compromise herself in some way.  
With this in mind, Demeter retreated to her nearby shitty little caravan in 
which lay a trap soon to be put into action, and began preparations for her 
fiendish plan.
 
Gypsies are simple folk by nature, so preparations for Demeter’s fiendish plan 
involved only ridding herself of her underwear and waving it at Erysichton.
 
“Ooooo. Aren’t you thirsty after all that hard work?” She tried. “Why don’t you 
come in here and take a rest while I provide you with a little refreshment of 
the horizontal kind.”
 
Erysichton being a man could not resist a temptation such as this, no matter how 
much of a filthy whore he thought she was.  So he threw down his axe and strode 
across to the caravan.  He stepped inside to find the gypsy lying on a useless 
excuse for a bed, which was presumably stolen, and hiked up her skirt to allow 
Erysichton to see her snatch.  It was a surprisingly nice looking one at that 
considering the amount of dicks she had taken over the years.  Erysichton didn't 
care too much who she was or what her name was, because his principle concern at 
that point was simply to get his end away, with his secondary concern to gather 
some wood.
 
So, Erysichton unsheathed his mighty, pretty average sized, pork sword and just 
dived straight in.  After all, Erysichton was no woolly-minded idealist, he 
fully realised that there was no need for a lot of fucking about with 
inconsequential things like foreplay where sluts are concerned. He slid his 
length right in to the hilt and was a little disappointed to not actually feel 
much, well anything, at all.
 
“Can you close your legs a little? I'm not even touching the sides (!)” He 
politely asked.
 
She swung her legs up and over his meat and brought her thighs up to her chest, 
in doing so clamping shut her gaping hole so Erysichton could finally feel flesh 
touching his.  It came as a surprise that the flesh of a gypo cunt was actually 
warm and soft and rather inviting.  The friction was barely present, but created 
enough sensation to stimulate his cock.
 
However, after fucking away slowly for about forty minutes without even coming 
close to any form of gratification he decided to change tactics.  Instead he 
began to pump away vigorously as if his life depended on it.  Sweat pored in 
torrents down his face as he continued to thrust away with a definite 
medal-worthy determination. Unfortunately he appeared to make no impression upon 
the gypo bitch, being as she was, utterly silent.
 
“Do you have to just lie there like that? I feel like I’m fucking a corpse.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Make some noise. Make some fucking noise. I live for the noise!”
 
To this seemingly peculiar rebuke she decided to hum the tune to ‘Mary had a 
little lamb’.
 
“You’re fucking pushing me now.” He screamed. At this point he was clearly 
foaming and frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog.
“I’m going to fuck you like a crazy bitch.” He decided. “And while I do you’d 
better make some fucking noise.  Just something vulgar . . . I’m going limp 
here!”  At this last remark he feebly tapped his withered cock against his leg.
“You are an amazing lover . . .” She began.
“Oh really?”
“. . . your cock . . . its so goddamn big . . .” 
“Yes well I’m happy with what I have.”
“. . .I’ve taken big cocks before but yours is fucking huge . . .”
“Oh yeah, bitch, that’s me.” 
“. . . I had to bite my tongue from screaming just now . . .”
“Don’t you fucking know it.”
“. . . oh god yes it was ripping me in half . . .”
“Well it’s not done much for my cock, but my ego is through the roof! Anyway, 
that’s not what I wanted from you, exactly. Just make some noise I can fuck to.”
 
So, finally Erysichton got what he wished for as she erotically enunciated the 
vowels - ayyyyyyyyyy, eeeeeeeee, iiiiiiiiiii, ooooooooooh, uuuuuuuuu, and 
sometimes ‘y’ - to the rhythms of his continued and utterly indomitable humping. 
 By now however Erysichton was feeling more than a little tired and frustrated, 
so he withdrew from her chasm and took to beating his meat with an effort and 
speed affording a god.  It was his aim to shoot his load in her face as a fine 
gesture of his manliness.  Of course he possibly could have told her this for 
she was wholly unprepared for what was to come next.
 
Erysichton beat his meat with great fury and with an explosive result, for 
within a few seconds of withdrawing his member he hit the gypsy with a 
money-shot right in the eye.  This caused great outrage, not to mention great 
pain on the part of the gypsy girl with the foreign substance in her eye.  The 
bitch screamed bloody murder while Erysichton was almost painfully consumed with 
mirth at this outrageous situation and the sight before him.  Of course this new 
happening resulted in the cunning plan, to mutilate or at least kill Erysichton, 
to become so awry that it could not now come to a head.
 
So, Erysichton was now spent and so tucked away his cock and still mumbling in 
starts and stops an obvious stuttering laughter.  The gypsy still wanted, even 
required, revenge for Erysichton’s heinous deeds and summoning up her strength, 
fuelled by great wrath, she chased after Erysichton with a jar in her hand.  
Erysichton had not wandered far from the caravan and was still amused with the 
mornings events, regardless of the lack of wood, and so he was still occupied by 
his own cogitations when he was chanced once again by, the now outwardly 
wrathful, Demeter.  She ran from behind him straight past him and then back 
again, though on the way back left her passing gift to him with a fond farewell.
 
“From this day on you will fuck and fuck and fuck and you will never have 
enough.  You will fuck until you can fuck no more but that will not be enough. 
You will fuck, until you eventually fuck yourself!” She screamed, in his general 
direction, as she threw the jar’s foul concoction onto his groin.
 
Almost immediately did the vitriol have an effect, because almost without delay 
could Erysichton feel an overwhelming itching in his groin.  He began to scratch 
and dig at his crotch but to no avail.  He scratched and squirmed and dug and 
rubbed and all the while the pain only increased.  The pain increased to the 
point that his loins felt like they were burning in hellfire.  As the fire raged 
away, Erysichton poured forth his vile rebuke.
 
“You think I’ll weep, no I’ll not weep.  No you unnatural hag.  I will have such 
revenges on you that all the world shall - - I will do such things what they 
are, yet I know what; but they shall be: the terrors of the earth!”
 
Demeter fled into the, relative, wilderness leaving Erysichton alone to nurse 
his itching balls and bruised ego.  Now, Erysichton was intelligent but not so 
intelligent as to know what the fuck was going on.  His mind was reeling and he 
could not control anything he thought and could barely control his body.  One 
consolation was that his legs seemed to work, so with this one function in his 
control he began to run until he could run no more and then had to stumble 
onwards and onwards until he could regain his mind.
 
Erysichton wandered through the wilderness with a mind clouded by a thousand 
men’s perverted thoughts.  Knowing not what to do, he stumbled onwards with a 
definite pain in his mind for want of knowledge to realise what had happened, 
and not to mention the painful ache in his groin.  
 
He trudged onwards and onwards not even looking where he was going, so it came 
as a surprise to him when he happened upon a clearing in the woods and came as 
more of a surprise when he found that here was also a waterfall. Though, after 
what had happened to him that morning he accepted this new experience with more 
nonchalance than the occasion would have otherwise called for.
 
Erysichton’s loins seemed to be consumed with a heat unimaginable, for although 
there was no inflammation to speak of a powerful metamorphosis had already begun 
to start in his body.  As he rushed to the waterfall, what he believed would be 
his source of relief, he was suddenly taken aback and then became mesmerised at 
what he could now see and hear.
 
Erysichton witnessed something of awesome splendour of the likes he had never 
seen before.  Emerging from the naturally beautiful display of the cascading 
veil of water came a quintet of what appeared to be water-nymphs.  These 
mysterious seductresses had all the form and grace of angels and sang their 
tragically poignant confession, thus:
 
“We love each other, as men ne-ver could.
Consumed with passion, for each we love.
And do-ting-ly,
By false means we share.
 
“We feast upon the vi-gil.
Crying only songs of love.
And ten-der-ly,
We have each other so . . .”
 
As if this was a cue from another, each of the nymphs took to busying themselves 
in enjoying the pleasures of the flesh.  A kind of crude and animal-like poetic 
fervour took possession of them.
 
Somewhere in the back of Erysichton's mind, he realised that he had not so much 
been cursed again but now he had become truly enchanted.  If only Erysichton 
could manage to get any logical part of his brain to function then he may have 
been able to control himself and his actions.  However, unbeknownst to our hero 
these nymphs were actually beautiful sirens, adroitly skilled and experienced in 
the art of seducing men and luring them to their death after performing a whole 
catalogue of sordid and perverse acts.  They went by the rather earthly yet 
still lyrical names of: Stacey, Tracey, Sharon, Giselle, and Mercedes.
 
Many years of modern man had destroyed all confidence the sirens once had that 
there was any point in their ritual of sex and death and instead had allowed 
themselves to gradually become more introspective.  Thus the mystical quintet 
had become increasingly inward looking for their satisfaction, and in place of 
the bizarre rites of the past, the group had immersed themselves in a new, and 
seemingly more innocent, delight.
 
The fact that this numinous sorority had decided to sing for Erysichton could 
have been considered mysterious itself if we were not to mention the effect it 
had on him. Nevertheless, some things will never be explained and others need 
not explaining at all.
 
So, Erysichton stood and watched, he watched mesmerised as the five sirens put 
on a display for him. The spectacle before his eyes was one of such poetic grace 
as to appear spontaneous and possibly ephemeral, yet maintained a certain 
passionate ferocity which could only be explained by the love they shared.
 
Each of them took turns to meet the others with tender, affectionate kisses.  
Tracey and Sharon, and Giselle and Mercedes lingered awhile longer enjoying 
themselves, leaving Stacey to step down onto hands and knees on the moist, warm 
bed of moss.  Stacey bent forward resting her face on her hands and pointing her 
womanhood at her sisters, beckoning them to their duty.  Now each in turn made 
like the first, until Stacey was at the fore and Mercedes completed the chain.  
Tracey, Sharon, Giselle and Mercedes each had their face buried in the woman in 
front, leaving only Stacey to voice their collective screams of joy and 
pleasure.
 
Each of the nymphs had their tongues buried in their lovers cunt and were 
eagerly lapping up the sweet nectar therein.  Stacey being at the front of the 
group coaxed Erysichton toward her and he more than willingly obeyed.  She 
guided him to her rose-capped nipples and he eagerly sucked upon them with sheer 
delight.  The other sisters seeing that Stacey had started without them each 
stood up and came over to their new conquest.
 
Tracey, Sharon, Giselle and Mercedes, each beautiful in their own right but each 
wonderfully unique began to share this new found wonder and took to caressing 
and exploring his body.  Each of the nymphs took care of a different part of his 
body, leaving not an inch of flesh untouched.  Erysichton was in Elysium, he lay 
back upon the warm bed and allowed the quintet to enjoy him, as he lay their 
stunned with his hands reaching up to heaven.  The wild beings sucked and bit 
his flesh with such tenderness that Erysichton could hold back no longer, he 
unleashed his passion with a mighty spasm, drenching Mercedes in the process.
 
Only now did it become evident what the gypsy had meant, as Erysichton’s cock 
did not flop to his side as it should have done but instead swelled to a greater 
size.  Not only was Erysichton surprised by this but so were the sirens who 
eagerly dived upon and devoured this new, bigger piece of meat.  Mercedes sat to 
the side while Sharon and Stacey cleaned her face.  Tracey and Giselle were 
mesmerised now, Erysichton had regained his sense as adrenalin coursed through 
his veins.  It was Giselle who spoke first, and what she said even a fool could 
understand.
 
“Fuck me, fuck me, I want you to fuck me, I’m begging you to fuck me.” She 
implored.
 
Of course he decided to fuck her. As exhausted as he was by now, he really had 
no choice in the matter. So begrudgingly he now went about the task of fucking 
the female. O how life doth pain him. He rubbed the length of his shaft to make 
sure it was up to the job, which of course it was and was as hard as a length of 
steel pipe. He pulled the girl to her knees and turned her so that her ass was 
to him. He fondled her tits a little and rolled an erect nipple between thumb 
and forefinger, just to prolong the agony. And then the moment she was begging 
for - he plunged balls deep into her cunt with one stroke and bottommed out so 
hard that she lost all balance and fell on her tits. His cock was still embedded 
in her pussy, but now not right to the hilt so he leaned forward and rested 
himself on her back, all the while stroking that wonderful ass of hers. He now 
instructed one of the sisters to come over and see him for a minute. She came 
over and he hit her straight in the lips with a powerful, loving, yet painfully 
erotic deep kiss. His tongue dove into her mouth and quite accidentally the 
rhythmic movements of his fucking matched the movement of his tongue. He opened 
his eyes now to see Tracey utterly engrossed in sexual ecstasy as she had one 
hand grasping his hair and one hand fingering her crotch.
 
Erysichton then climaxed so forcefully that it took his breath away.  His pupils 
dilated and his muscles contracted, as his cock once again began to expand and 
his sexual appetite began to grow greater he noticed that the sorority had got 
to their feet.  When the quintet stood before him now they seemed to have 
regained a degree of dignity.  Erysichton’s fluids dripped from their bodies 
onto the floor, yet they remained silent and sober.  With sombre faces they 
advanced slowly upon our young hero with obvious murderous intent.
 
“Why is it everyone I fuck now wants to kill me?” Pondered Erysichton.  Though 
it was no time for idle thoughts and so he once more grabbed his cock and split. 
 He ran from the scene like shit off a stick, naked as an animal and with the 
simple instinct to survive.  Again he had to stumble through woods and trees not 
knowing where he was going.
 
Erysichton stumbled upon another clearing in this mysterious forest where he 
heard again the moans of Sapphic joy.  He ran to the source of the noise 
determined to once again prove his worth as a man and convert a bunch of lesbos 
back again; he simply dived right in, so fast in fact that it would be 
impossible to determine exactly what the fuck happened at that moment.
 
Luke ‘Hercules’ Judson then strutted into the clearing and to demonstrate his 
god-like prowess he parted with his clothes and dropped to the floor.  Of 
course, he did not fall flat on his face, as would be thought, but instead 
seemed to levitate.  What had actually happened here was that Hercules possessed 
one of the most potent peckers in all the land, and being so potent as he was, 
he was able to lift his entire ninety-seven pound body (his cock alone weighed 
fifteen pounds) from the floor.  Further to this extraordinary ability, Hercules 
was able to execute press-ups with nothing to aid him, but his johnson. 
 
“One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . F— . . . are you lot watching or 
not?”
 
Of course none of the group were watching this super-human feat, as all were 
otherwise engaged with their own amours.  Xena and Gabrielle were occupied with 
feverishly eating each others cunts, and Erysichton was servicing Gabrielle’s 
tight little arse as she lay on the floor.  Erysichton’s wang was by this point 
in our tale really quite monstrous, but somehow Gabrielle, who Erysichton at 
first believed to be innocent and virginal, dutifully allowed her arse to 
swallow inch after inch of his meat into her body.  If it were not for the 
intense bliss that Gabrielle was receiving from Xena’s deft tongue and hot mouth 
and her extensive experience in taking gargantuan ogre members up her arse, she 
would never have been able to bear the powerful pumping from Erysichton’s end.
 
As Xena was in the throes of her Sapphic pleasure, Hercules decided to slide his 
entire seventeen and a quarter inches right up her shitter.  He pumped away with 
all the passion and ferocity he could muster from his tiny little body.  
Hercules, unfortunately picked the wrong bitch to bone.  The matter of the 
predicament being that not only did Xena hate anal sex but Hercules’ man-meat 
happened to be vulnerable to damage only when administering his anally injected 
death sentence.  
 
 “Not the ass. Not the ass. I fucking hate it up the ass.”  Exclaimed Xena.
 
Still screaming like a little bitch with orgasmic pleasure she reached over to 
her side and fumbled through her bondage gear looking for her sword.  She 
clasped her sword in her right hand and wrapped her fingers round its handle, 
holding it with a soft caress as if she were holding a cock, and with one fell 
swoop, swung the mighty sword behind her and sliced straight through Hercules’ 
cock.
 
“Talk about losing your head(!)”  Remarked a surprisingly calm Hercules.
 
The head was severed but somehow the wound seemed cauterised.  What happened 
next amazed the amused looking Xena, as Hercules’ cock, sans head, swelled a 
little and seemed to rupture.  Almost as if he were giving birth a new head 
emerged from the end of his shaft to take its rightful place once more.
 
Meanwhile, the old head of Hercules’ dong was having difficulties removing 
itself from Xena’s just fucked ass.  It was immediately clear that something had 
to be done about this.  Gabrielle had obviously come to the same conclusion as 
she was hastily snapping on a pair of rubber gloves and coating her latexed 
hands with lube.  
 
At this point Erysichton was lying a little tired but content behind Gabrielle 
and was discussing philosophy with Hercules.
 
“I think Aristotle said it best when he said: Você expressa stupid pouco 
bastardo o que o têm feito.”  Drawled Erysichton.
“I disagree.  The axioms of science fall under the consideration of the 
metaphysician insofar as they are properties of all existence. Aristotle argues 
that there are a handful of universal truths.”  Retorted Hercules.
“I see your point, and while I would love to discuss this with you further, I am 
itching to get my knob shined.”
 
So, Erysichton heaved himself up, having to carry his cock with both hands now 
and strolled over to Gabrielle and Xena; they were only nineteen inches away but 
it felt good to stroll.  Erysichton took his manhood over to Xena who was on all 
fours with her rump in the air aimed at Gabrielle.  Erysichton watched as 
Gabrielle inserted first a single finger and then without hesitation, her whole 
fist up Xena’s rear.  While this was going on, Hercules had persuaded Gabrielle 
to allow his mighty schlong up her gaping hole, evidently Mr. Judson had quite a 
penchant for arse-fucking.
 
“So you hate being butt fucked, but you don’t mind being fisted like that?” 
Asked a rather bemused Erysichton of Xena.
“Oh when she does it I just love it. I don’t mind anything she does.” Xena 
dotingly replied.
“I guess you won’t mind this then.” Remarked Erysichton as he shoved his cock 
into her mouth. 
 
The cock had of course grown since his encounter only moments earlier with 
Gabrielle and so was dangerously oversized, even for such a loud mouthed bitch 
as this. Erysichton’s cock had a mind of its own and burrowed deeply into Xena’s 
mouth and ventured forth down her throat.  He heard a sudden pop, almost but not 
quite a snap; Xena’s jaw had dislocated itself in order to accommodate his 
mighty meat.  A single tear rolled from the mighty warrior-dyke’s eye, whether 
out of joy at her first deep-throat or out of sheer pain, it was impossible to 
tell.
 
Hercules slid his weapon in and out of Gabrielle, allowing her little respite or 
even room to move.  Gabrielle was in fact too busy diligently fisting Xena and 
in fishing out the elusive cock-head from Xena’s rectum.  Erysichton 
determinedly pumped away at Xena’s face while she struggled to come to terms 
with this extraordinarily manly man.  Although his cock was forever getting 
bigger the curse unfortunately had afforded him no sexual stamina and after a 
short time he blew his load.
 
Erysichton’s jizz shot to the back of Xena’s already sorely surprised throat, in 
waves.  The hot liquid flowed forth like rivers of blood and as he removed 
himself from her mouth the spunk poured from Xena’s mouth and shot from her nose 
leaving her stunned and covered in cum – a fine gesture of manliness.  Feeling 
restless, our wiley Odysseus set foot to ground once more, with cock slung over 
shoulder he again took to the path in search of home.
 
Erysichton stumbled from the forest exhausted, almost crippled.  He collapsed to 
floor and rolled over onto his back.  He would have slept there had it not been 
for a skinny pale little bare-chested inbred with a gold chain round his neck 
driving a Ford Escort.
 
“Get outta fuckin' road you fuckin’ cunt.” He said, as he struggled to 
articulate past fat lips set in a thin face with hollowed cheeks and a sallow 
complexion.  Overall, an ugly fucker.
 
Erysichton was not in the mood to beat hardnuts to death with his mighty tool 
and instead picked himself up and staggered in the direction of his house.  It 
did not take him long to reach his home and once there retreated directly to his 
room.
 
Erysichton’s cock was now as thick as his leg but even longer, so he couldn’t 
even hide his shame behind a pair of trousers.  He sat in his room rubbing his 
member and wondering how he was to escape this situation.  All his boyhood he 
had wished for a cock as big as a house, and when he finally gained some sense 
he simply desired one about fifteen inches long, big but not too big.  He had 
fucked eight women since the encounter with the gypsy and each time he had done 
the deed his cock had grown.  Soon it would be too heavy even to carry around 
with him, it was not as if he could just leave it behind.  
 
So, he set his thoughts to the task of creating a solution.  He was thinking 
what he could do but was constantly and continually distracted by encroaching 
thoughts and communiqués from a realm of debauchery and sensuality.  The first 
clear thought he formulated was that he should go back and see if he could find 
the gypsy camp where he fucked the gypsy girl, way back that day, whenever that 
day was, he was losing his grip on time.  
 
“I’ll go and see that little bitch.” He said aloud, to nobody in particular. 
“But first just a quick bash.”  It was foolish to even think about this but 
Erysichton’s hunger was now all consuming.
 
He rubbed his pride and joy from end to end and it flickered into life so 
quickly that Erysichton was startled.  His body had adapted quickly to his 
rapidly growing appendage, so much so that it could adequately provide him with 
the blood needed without smothering him with unconsciousness.  Erysichton 
stroked and fondled his manhood with the love only an owner can provide a cock.  
Both hands slid up and down the trunk of flesh, he could feel the blood coursing 
through his veins almost in anticipation of what was to come next.  The hands 
kneaded the flesh and got beneath folds.  Up and down, round and round the shaft 
his quick hands went.  Faster and faster and faster, only one thing could result 
from this.  Sweat poured down his face and his anxiety began to grow and feed 
upon itself.  
 
Erysichton was now not so much doing this for the pleasure or to appease his 
sexual appetite but to appease something more vicious, something almost 
malevolent within him, something far more elusive.  He fucked himself as a man 
possessed and now got to the stage where he had to use the rest of his body to 
try to bring an end to the insufferable desire welling inside himself.
 
His testicles were grotesquely swollen, and the changes in his body had changed 
their colour to black as pitch.  They now weighed him down like cannonballs, and 
when they chimed together he could almost hear a metallic ringing.  He sat bolt 
upright and hugged his cock tenderly yet forcefully, shrugging his shoulders and 
his chest trying to stimulate himself.  He buried his head into the end of 
shaft, he burrowed downwards as he did this, licking his way inside as he became 
feverish with anxiety and the need to relieve himself.
 
His balls tightened against his body suddenly.  His legs went numb.  His stomach 
sucked itself inwards.  His balls retracted further into his body, becoming part 
of his cock.  A small rumble was barely heard. Then . . . a powerful explosion. 
Semen shot out of his cock like a bullet from a gun and snapped Erysichton’s 
neck.  His head lulled back inside the shaft limply, hardly blocking the 
continuing flow at all.  His body now flattened and there was a terrible noise 
of the cracking of bones as the cock began to absorb the body connecting it.  
 
The cock now was a thing of its own, an Ouroboros.  It amalgamated within itself 
all of Erysichton’s limp and lifeless body.  The cock flopped to floor, writhing 
and squirming.  It now began to consume itself and that is when Erysichton’s 
destiny was fulfilled.  The cock consumed itself and exploded, covering the 
whole room in a vile mix of blood and cum.  The concoction dripped obscenely 
from the ceiling and dribbled pathetically down the walls. 
 
There was not a trace of who Erysichton once was in that room.
 
 
Epilogue
 
No matter how hard I push I get nowhere. Push. Push. Push. Nothing. I can feel 
the blood swelling now. Building up. This is the worst thing that has ever 
happened. Pain. I'm losing consciousness. I must keep on pushing. The end is in 
sight. I can feel it coming now. Onwards into the abyss. I'm getting nowhere. 
Here it comes. Relief.