The Barbarian's Master (Patreon)

This was a story commission for one of the top tier patrons - hope you all enjoy!

Never before had The Barbarian experienced such rage. He knew there were villainous individuals in the world - indeed he had fought many of them off before - but the acts of the one known as The Inked Master had simply gone too far this time. 

While the Barbarian had been out on a hunt to supply food for the people of his small peaceful village, the Inked Master had led his army into the hero’s home and razed it to the ground. Buildings were destroyed, the villagers were slaughtered and the place that the Barbarian had felt most at peace was gone for good, all on the whim of one villain. It was unfair and unjust and the Barbarian was determined to have his revenge, whatever the cost.

It didn’t take much for the Barbarian to track down his prey. He had always been a good hunter, his magically enhanced senses allowing him to stalk down unsuspecting animals in order to provide meat for the villagers. Now his abilities were used for more aggressive purposes as the hero felt a darkness begin to spread inside of him, coaxed on by the rage and despair he felt as a result of the villain’s actions. He had always considered himself to be fair and just but it was hard to believe in such principles when he had been robbed of his family and friends in one fell swoop. He simply couldn’t let such deeds go unpunished. 

The Inked Master had set up camp in the ruins of what had once been a great city and had of course taken the largest quarters for himself while his faithful soldiers were stationed in tents scattered around the ruins. Watching them from the shadows, the Barbarian simply couldn’t understand why they chose to follow such an evil master. Couldn’t they see that what he was doing was immoral and wrong or did they simply not care? It was difficult to consider. The Barbarian wanted to believe that people were inherently good but when villains such as the Inked Master had such sway it was hard to stand by that belief. 

Sneaking through the tents without being detected - an impressive feat considering the Barbarian’s six-foot-five and two-hundred-thirty pound build - the hero eventually made his way to the foot of the tower that was housing the foul villain. Brandishing his sword, the Barbarian pushed through the heavy wooden door and began to ascend the stairs until he reached the single bedroom at the top of the tower. There, as expected, he found the heavily tattooed menace, perched at the end of the bed with a smirk decorating his thin lips as he stared directly towards the door. I was expected, the Barbarian realized, his heart sinking somewhat. This surely meant the villain had something devious planned. He wasn’t afraid though - the Barbarian didn’t feel such trivial things as fear!

“I expected it might take you longer than this to find me… I’m impressed,” the Inked Master announced, his voice silky smooth. The silver irises of his eyes seemed to pierce directly into the Barbarian’s mind, peering through to the very fibre of his being. Still the Barbarian remained resolute, taking several steps forward and holding his blade up high. The intended act of intimidation only brought forth a laugh from the villain and the sound sent shivers down the hero’s spine. There was something strange about the other man compared to all of the villains he had fought before and it put the Barbarian on edge. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect but his intentions to bring the villain to justice for the crimes against his village remained the same.

“I will avenge the innocent lives you took,” the Barbarian growled, his voice deep and rumbling as he looked the other in the eye. “It is my job to put evils such as yourself to rest and I will not fail my mission. You took people who were very precious to me away and I will not be satisfied until I’ve removed your head from your body.” It wasn’t an idle threat either - the Barbarian was accustomed to violence and the villain deserved to suffer for what he had done. 

Still, the threat didn’t seem to perturb the other who merely rose to his feet and smiled wider. “I didn’t kill them all, you know,” he announced, causing the Barbarian to pause. “Many of them, yes. The young and healthy men though… I saw a use for them. They would make fine additions to my army - and I was right, too! You see, some men are just born to serve. It’s wired into them in a manner beyond explanation. All they need is a master to serve… a master like me, able to give them purpose and reward! I liberated those men from their own cruel and unfulfilling lives! I’m their saviour, don’t you see?”

Every word made the Barbarian’s blood boil. Did this madman really believe the words coming out of his mouth? How could he possibly perceive himself to be the saviour of anything when he had brought about such destruction in his wake? He was deluded, plain and simple, and the Barbarian was ready to put an end to his madness to make sure such horrific crimes were never repeated. There was no way anybody from his village would choose to follow the Inked Master, they were good righteous people and knew well of his loathsome nature. Even under the threat of death the Barbarian was certain they would have stood strong rather than join the villain’s side. “You speak nothing but lies! Disgusting lies that I will happily put an end to when I silence your wretched mouth forever.” He took a further step forward, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade.

Despite the threat lingering in the air, the Inked Master only laughed. Anybody in their right mind should have been afraid of the wall of muscle that was the Barbarian but he acted as if he had been confronted by a mere child and a skinny, pathetic one at that. There wasn’t a trace of intimidation on the other’s face and that only infuriated the Barbarian more. Was there nothing he could do to rattle the other’s nerve?

“I may be many things but I’m not a liar,” the Inked Master proclaimed proudly, “If you want I can re-introduce you to the men who chose to follow me. Would that help?” He stepped forward and around the hero, his eyes tracing the lines of the Barbarian’s strong muscles. “Perhaps you’ll even learn to see things from their perspective. Maybe I’m not as much of a bad guy as you might believe.”

The laugh that escaped the Barbarian’s lips was deep and bitter. There was nothing that could ever make him believe that the Inked Master was anything other than a repulsive villain, he was certain of it. As the other man stepped back in front of him though, the Barbarian couldn’t help but wonder why he’d noticed that the other’s irises were a bright shining gold. Surely that was a detail he should have picked up on earlier? He faintly remembered them being a shade of silver and yet they were very clearly gold as they locked gazes with his own deep brown eyes.

“What’s the matter, brave warrior? Contemplating the possibility that I might be right?” the villain queried, his lips twisted up into a sinister expression. The Barbarian’s cheeks flushed with heat but he found his jaw locked in place - in fact his whole body was frozen. He couldn’t move a single one of his mountainous muscles no matter how hard he tried. “Or perhaps you’re just noticing that you’ve started to come under my thrall. I must say I expected more of a fight out of a big strong man like you… but in the end, the mind will always be my playground. I do my best work with the hero-types anyway.”

The Barbarian’s heart raced. What the hell was happening to him? Why couldn’t he move. The devil’s magic. Those eyes… Despite knowing that the golden shimmer of the Inked Master’s eyes was the source of the villain’s control over him, the Barbarian simply couldn’t look away. He was lost in their glow, unwillingly opening his mind up to his new Master to play with even as he internally raged in protest. 

“I can feel your anger; the burning passion inside of you. That’s the kind of fire I want backing me. You’ll make such a good soldier in my army,” the villain declared, a hint of amazement in his tone. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave you as a lowly grunt like the buffoons I took from your village. You, my friend, are special. You’ll be my own personal bodyguard. Tell me, does that sound good to you?”

No! The golden glow of the Inked Master’s eyes flashed brighter and the Barbarian’s lips moved to respond: “Yes, Master.” The words had broken through every resistance the hero had tried to make and broken his will in the process. He could feel himself slipping under the other’s control, becoming more subservient and desperate for instruction. His thick cock stood at attention and his muscles tensed as the Master’s fingers traced over his pecs and down his abs. As much as he didn’t want to, the Barbarian found himself loving the touch of the other man and silently begged for more. It made his body feel like fire and his mind was a whirlwind of emotions eventually overcome by the single need for pleasure - pleasure that could only be attained by serving his one true Master.

“Bow for me.” The Barbarian did as he was told. “Onto your knees.” Again, the order was followed without hesitation. Each time the remains of his resistance crumbled and faded away, leaving him embracing his new life of servitude. “Kiss my feet.” His lips got their first taste of the Master’s skin and it felt amazing, like the finest nectar he could ever have been possibly blessed with. Why had it taken him this long to realize that serving the Master was the best way to live? He felt like a fool for ever trying to oppose him and was so thankful that the Master had taken mercy on him and helped him see the best way to live his life!