I've listened to this story at least three times, so I had to come back make a more significant comment.
This story does an excellent job of addressing what I'll call the tragedy of male strength. I was particularly struck by the moment when Greta says, "Cromdor won't be getting out of bed for days," and he presently appears in the doorway. Cromdor is many, many times stronger than every woman he's ever bedded or impregnated. Whether or not he *should* run away and leave those women to deal with the problems he's caused them, and whether or not he ever *has* raped a woman, the fact is that he can. Easily, with no consequences to himself. Naturally, the women he's encountered throughout his life are aware of that. That's the tragedy of male strength.
I was also really amazed and enchanted by the depictions of female power. The Frostmother hypnotizes the men into suckling like babies! Wonderful! I loved that they all agreed an adult mother Frosthand was impossible to kill, though the other large one (possibly an adolescent, but I assume the male of this family group) had been killed outside the cave. As for story the tentacled god-beast that eats female virgins, I'm not going to lie, the image was very disturbing, but I felt it was very powerful and necessary to the story. It seemed to me it was implied that the beast drew power from an unacknowledged sexual energy specific to females... What a weird idea to throw in so briefly. I hope the blond girl Cromdor describes didn't end up destroyed, caught in some kind of sexual-psychic crossfire magic that killed the monster. I'd rather imagine she got to be queen, and wanted Cromdor as her king.
Finally, in response to ElectricPaladin, I don't think Conan is really a niche story, since the character is still very popular. As you said, most people love vicariously living that warrior life for a few hours. I'm actually a big fan of Conan -- I think the world building in Robert E. Howard stories is great and the adventure is top-notch, and I may have done some reveling in the machoness too. It helped that I was too young to understand the limiting nature of my own femaleness when I first encountered some Conan comics, in all their grizzly, muscle-bound, three-color glory.