The stories recounted herein are erotic corruptions of folktales once popular along the Silk Route, most of them stemming from the various tales of Nasserdin Hoca (Hodja), though others from Arabic and Turkic lore and myths. They are intended to be light-hearted, though with a bit of pithy wit blended into the spice pool.

In a time lost to memory, in a place whose whereabouts is unknown, there lived a recluse who, according to legend, developed certain spiritual powers through a strict regimen of meditation and practice. The people held him in high esteem, despite his strange ways. It is said that he came from a family of cobblers. But his pursuit was the soul, not the sole. After his parents passed on, he and his brother toiled to make their little shoe business successful, but the younger Hardcok, was discontent. One afternoon he announced to his brother that he was going up into the mountains to pray and meditate and become a famous shaman.

And so, he left his village and his brother and sought out teacher after teacher who had access to the occult sciences. Then he went on his own to live in a cave, practicing and practicing. He had not been seen for years. Until one day he came running into the village and found his brother in his shop, doing as he had always done, making shoes. He told his brother that he finally tapped into the magical powers of their forefathers and to watch his powers in awe.

The young Hardcok then took a cup, filled it with water, and turned it upside down. Much to the amazement of the older Hardcok and others in the cobbler shop, none of the water spilled out. His brother said, “Amazing. I am so proud of you my brother. You have achieved great powers in your cave, living alone with no cares in the world. But, perhaps while you are here, you can help me. This young lady is in need of new shoes, can you measure her feet for me?”

The young Hardcok was upset his brother did not fully appreciate his achievements but knew he had a duty to assist. He sat in front of the young lady and asked her to lift her skirt up, revealing the smooth, alabaster skin of her ankle and shin. He placed his hand on her leg, lifting it up, and when he did, all the water spilled out of his upside-down cup. Obviously, the temptations and distractions of a cave are few compared to those of the world in which men and women reside.

The stories that remain of the Hardcoks are not about the younger shaman, but the world-wise elder brother who knew that earthly distractions were much more magical than anything one could learn living alone in a cave. All the women in the village favored his cobbler shop, for he had honed a particular mode for measuring their feet. Women came from far and wide to have their feet measured by the elder Hardcok, and cum they did.

To measure their feet, he took them to his special room in the back of his shop and placed their feet in leather straps hanging from the ceiling. He would then turn a crank making their legs spread apart and held high, their skirts rolling up to their hips, revealing their naked legs and their covered private regions. He convinced them that their feet actually changed sizes over the day depending on their mood and to make the perfect pair they had to be in their most relaxed state. He then stepped between their legs, often finding the ladies, younger and older, single and married, breathing harder and harder. He said that would not do and that he had a special means of relaxing them. It meant sliding their undergarments aside and licking their nether regions till the lady had a screaming orgasm. Their post-climatic state, the cobbler argued, was the most relaxed state and the ideal time to measure a foot to make a pair of shoes that would fit perfectly. In those days, few women had experienced such pleasure from a tongue and found themselves entering their “relaxed mood” within minutes of the cobbler’s ministrations.

When gossiping with one another, all the women said their shoes fit the most perfectly, whether they did or not, for none wanted to admit that perhaps they did not achieve a “relaxed mood”.

When the elder Hardcok finally married, many young ladies were heartbroken, jealous of being able to experience the joys of the cobbler’s tongue every night. Soon, his lovely young wife gave birth to a healthy young boy, much to the delight of the elder Hardcok, who now had an heir for his cobbling business. His in-laws came to assist their daughter with the birth and the early days of rearing the young Hardcok. After about ten days, the grandmother was playing with the young boy when he said “Grandmama”. Surprised that the boy could say a word at such an early age, the woman was taken aback but deeply honored that she had a special place in the boy’s development. She proudly showed the feat to others in the household who were equally astonished to hear the baby clearly say Grandmama. Sadly though, within an hour the old lady had a massive heart attack and died.

The family went into mourning, with the grandfather in a state of shock after losing his wife of many years. After about ten days he found himself playing with his grandson when he distinctly heard the baby boy say “Granddada”. Now, the old man remembering that just a few days early the baby had first spoken his wife’s name was beyond elated to be named by the boy. It brought back a flood of memories of his wife and their days together and of course pride at the amazing achievement of such a young baby being able to speak clearly. However, within an hour he had a massive heart attack and died.

Now the household was concerned. Was it just a freak coincidence or did the baby Hardcok have magical, if not evil powers? Everyone in the household was on edge, unsure of the power of the baby. No one was willing to play with the baby, afraid if he said their name, their time on earth would come to an untimely end. Not to be deterred though, the elder Hardcok loved his son and continued to dote on him. Then one evening, he was playing with his baby son, when the boy said “Dada”. Assuming the worse was in store for him, Hardcok retired to his small courtyard garden to enjoy the aromas of the blossoming flowers, listen to the birds chirping, and watch the falling water from the small fountain. He contemplated his life, though young, he lived well, pleasuring many women with his talented tongue. As he paced around the courtyard waiting for his time to come, he heard a loud commotion from the neighboring house.

“Oh God, Oh God,” he heard clearly the woman of the house yell out, “why did you have to take my husband?”

Soon after, the elder Hardcok decided to go on a journey, seeking new markets for his handmade shoes. After two days on the road, he came across a young man traveling to the same far-off town. Upon introductions, having heard of the exploits of the Hardcoks, both the elder and younger brother, the shaman wannabe, the young man, Ash Whacker, asked to join him on his journey.

“You can accompany me,” it is reported the elder Hardcok said, “but you cannot ask any questions of my intentions when you see me do something you do not understand. No questions, or we will go our separate ways.”

Ash Whacker agreed and off the duo went. Later that day they came upon a young lass working in a field. Hardcok approached her, instructing Whacker to stay. Whacker watched Hardcok approach the girl and then after talking a minute, the girl turned and ran, though Hardcok grabbed her, ripping her dress off of her, exposing her nubile breasts, so firm and shapely. Hardcok then pushed her to the ground, ripped her undergarments off, undid his pants, and raped the pour, defenseless maiden. Whacker was shocked, not only at seeing the elder Hardcok’s cock, now knowing why he had the reputation that he had. But seeing him take advantage of the young maiden was too much. He rushed over to the scene, seeing Hardcok pounding his manly member into the young virgin, whose legs and arms were wrapped firmly around Hardcok, moaning with pleasure, begging him to fuck her harder and harder.

“What are you doing, Hardcok? Stop, don’t force the poor maiden!” Even though his eyes and ears were telling him the poor maiden was not being forced. He stood there watching her as her eyes began to roll to the back of her head, and she started to scream with the ecstasy of pleasure.

As he finished his business, Hardcok pulled out of the virgin’s tight young pussy and proceeded to shoot his cum over the maidens stomach. She lay there with her breasts heaving from the unexpected sexual exertion, drawing Ash Whacker’s undivided attention. Pulling his trousers back up, Hardcok grabbed Whacker by the shoulder and dragged him back to the road.

“No questions, remember?”

And so they continued on their way in silence.

The next night they were fortunate to find lodging in the barn of the home of a young couple. At night the husband became quite drunk and finally passed out. Hardcok and Whacker carried him to bed and dumped him there. They then retired to the barn. In the middle of the night, Whacker awoke and did not see his traveling companion anywhere. He went up to the house and through the window saw the young wife, fully naked astride Hardcok’s impressive member, lost in the throes of pleasure. How could he take advantage of the woman, a married woman, Whacker wondered? Of course, his own cock twitched as he watched the two coupling, unable to stop himself from pulling it out and playing with it while fixated on the young wife’s breasts bouncing up and down and her ass, oh what an amazing ass she had. The young Whacker certainly wished he could be whacking that ass, but he knew he never could do that with the poor, unsuspecting husband passed out in the room next door.

The next morning, Whacker had to ask, “How could you take advantage of the woman of the house while her husband was passed out? Have you no decency, man?”

“No questions!” Was all Hardcok replied.

He started on their journey in silence. Whacker followed obediently, confused.

The next night, on the outskirts of the town they were traveling to, it was getting late and the two approached a modest home. They discovered a family of four children who had just lost both of their parents. They offered to pay to stay in the barn, giving the children a little money to help them cope with the loss. That night, Whacker was awoken by the sounds of carnal lust emanating from the stack of hay nearby. He stealthily approached and, once again, witnessed Hardcok thrusting into a young woman, this time the eldest of the four children. When he finished his business, he gave the young girl some coins.

Whacker was incensed, again, how could Hardcok take advantage of the dire situation of the orphans and use the eldest daughter as a simple prostitute? In the morning, he confronted Hardcok about his dalliances and abuse of the women they met on their journey.