The Life of Koru

By Doren Grey

Published on Nov 21, 2024

Bisexual

The Life of Koru, Chapter 57

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"Good mornin', Peon! How did ye sleep?" said Willie.

"Get away from me!" Peon said. "Ye're just Figo's cock!"

"Oh no! Oh no! I'se Willie! I'se not a cock! See? Cocks don't speak!"

Figo was such a good ventriloquist that it looked as if his large penis had a life of its own, its piss hole moving in perfect sync with the words that seemed to flow from its lips. Willie was no different from a puppet.

"Kiss me, Peon! Why do ye only kiss Elastine?" said Willie.

"Yuck!" Peon said.

Suddenly, Dwarfissimo burst into the stable:

"Today is the big day, boys! Get ready for the show!"

They went outside to arrange the final touches for the grand event.

Peon and Figo moved back and forth with poles, ropes, and colorful banners, transforming the open field into a vibrant, bustling fairground. Brightly colored tents sprang up like mushrooms after rain, their stripes and patterns creating a kaleidoscope of hues against the clear blue sky. Ropes were pulled taut, stakes were driven deep into the ground, and the great tent rose slowly, majestically, until it stood proud and imposing, a beacon of the wonders to come.

"Wow!" Willie said.

"Yeah, it's really sumthing!" Peon added.

"Can I'se kiss ye now, Peon?" Willie wanted to know.

"Shut the fuck up!" Peon responded.

Dwarfissimo watched the preparations unfold and declared:

"Tonight, we're gonna bag some bucks, boys!"


"CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!" was the sad sound of slavery.

Chained to a coffle with fifteen other prisoners of war, Mulo continued his journey towards the quarry, not daring even a second to look back.

When he couldn't walk anymore, he received a lash and the command:

"Move, you fucking ape, don't you stand there!"

So he continued moving.

The soft sand under his feet was soon replaced with sharp stones that hurt his already bruised soles.

The Ahaggar Mountains loomed in front of him like an unmerciful Massa.

In an enormous pit carved at the foothills, Mulo could see numerous quarry slaves carrying enormous blocks of stones on their backs, just like industrious ants. They were big burly brutes covered in grime and dust that they were never allowed to wash away. Their backs were full of whip marks to the point where they looked like the backs of striped animals. Some of these slaves used huge hammers to break stone and enlarge the pit. Some crawled on their hands and knees with a massive block of stone strapped on their backs. Some slaves pulled loaded carts, yoked like horses.

Suddenly, Mulo saw an Arab Lord surveying the quarry from a high vantage point. His presence was commanding and austere, casting a long shadow over the dusty landscape below. He was Khalid ibn Wahid, the feared Chief overseer of the quarry.

Chief Khalid was helped by just a few Arab overseers and many more smallcock underlings, who were more than happy to serve the Caliphate by terrorizing its prisoners. With whips and clubs, these naked overseers liked to boss the infidel slaves around.

"Bring these infidels in!" Chief Khalid said, noticing Mulo's coffle. "This quarry is large enough for all of them!"

"We'se bring big names, sayyidi!" a coffle guard sneered. "Gryf, the beast of the desert, and Mulo, the Wild Pup!"

"Well, who cares how these pigs call themselves. I only want to tell them one thing! This place is Hell, and I really mean it! The only way to get out of Hell is to abandon the stupid faith in the Black Empire, embrace Islam and start fighting for the Caliphate!"

As soon as Chief Khalid's words were translated to the coffle slaves, Mulo said:

"Nevaah!"

And his mates were all of the same opinion. All, except one. Mulo looked at him with indignation and recognized him immediately. It was Fucka!

"I'se give no shit about them Black Lords. I'se gonna fight for the Caliph!" Fucka said.

"Fucka, what the fuck?!" said Mulo.

"Ye heard me, boy!"

"Ye swore on-heart-and-cock!"

"I'se swore on yer mum, too!"

Mulo was ready to jump on Fucka and punch him right in the face, but he was stopped by chains and guards.

"Alright, boy!" Chief Khalid addressed Fucka. "You made a very wise decision! You will have your pecker locked tomorrow in a very small cage. Your new name from now on is Fuqqa! You will supervise these dogs as they work. They will break stone and you will whip their asses!"

These conditions, once translated to Fuqqa, seemed very acceptable to him. He had no problem whipping his former mates for a living. In the case of Mulo, he saw it as a form of revenge.

A few hours later, Mulo was full of sweat, swinging a hammer under the supervision of Fuqqa.

"OUCH!" Mulo yelled as Fuqqa's whip touched him.

"Work harder, slave!" Fuqqa said. "Fuckin' break that stone wall!"

"Fuck ye in the ass, betrayur! Get off my dick!"

"WHAT DID YE JUST SAY, INFIDEL? IS THIS HOW YE ADDRESS A WARRIUR OF ALLAH?"

Mulo was quickly subdued and punished by his cruel overseer and by Chief Khalid himself who noticed the conflict.

He had to resume work.

Swinging a hammer in the quarry was hard enough even without a prick like Fuqqa. Every time the hammer hit the stone, it sent a sharp, jarring vibration through Mulo's arms, reverberating all the way to his bones. After hours of working like this, Mulo's arms felt like jelly and his muscles ached.

The air was unbreathable. Dust clouded the air with every strike, settling on sweat-drenched bodies and parched lips. Every breath Mulo took was laced with the gritty taste of stone and dirt.

And adding to all this was the impossible heat. Not only did the quarry pit provide no shade, but it amplified the heat, turning the open space into a blistering cauldron. The sun's rays reflected off the bare stone walls, intensifying the scorching temperatures and making the air shimmer with waves of heat.

Just like Chief Khalid said, it was Hell.

At the end of the day, the work slaves were sent to sleep in a cave jailhouse, carved into the body of the mountain -- a hundred slaves sleeping in a very small space.

Gryf noticed that Mulo was crouched on the ground, sculpting something on a small stone, using an iron tip.

"What are ye carvin' there, boy?"

Mulo showed him. It was a sun face, an object of worship, symbolizing the Black Empire. It represented the Black Man in the Sky. The koru believed such stones to be full of "magic'ry".

Later on, Mulo stood there on his knees bowing to his small idol, begging him to give him good luck and release him from the awful "Caulifate".

As Mulo himself put it: "I'se need a better fate, and not the Caulifate!"

Next: Chapter 58


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