The Further Adventures of Kilminsk Bearfucker

*clink* … *clink*

The faint, repetitive clank of metal tapping against metal rang through the dervish’s head as he staggered blindly through the dark, muggy forest. He had no recollection of how he got there, or what had happened to his clothing and equipment. He wore practically nothing, yet his scarred body dripped with burning sweat in that suffocating forest air. There had been a bright, white flash, he knew, but that was it - the flash - then prickly bushes, trees, and heat. The dervish’s mind was spinning far too much for him to even begin to understand what had happened or where he was. He did, however, manage to have one coherent thought. As he collapsed to the ground, his left hand clutched the worn padlock that fastened his newly fitted chastity belt.
“This,” he mused, “could be a problem.”