Hercules and the Temple of Torture
Part One
Hercules approached the valley of the Egyptian priest known only as HEM NETJER…Egyptian for servant of the gods. King Eurytus of the Greek land of Oechalia, open-minded and generous to a fault, had allowed the stranger refuge from persecution in his homeland but was not comfortable with the man inside the royal city. So, the king sent the priest to a valley at the far reaches of his kingdom to live in peace and relative seclusion. However, not long after that, reports of young men mysteriously disappearing made their way to the king. He sent his son, Prince Iphytus, the strongest and bravest of the clan, to investigate the disappearances. When Iphytus failed to return and word made its way to Eurytus of a magnificent temple having appeared almost overnight in the valley, the king asked Hercules to investigate and bring home his son. Hercules could not deny his former mentor and friend or the lust for adventure that ruled his soul.
Cresting the final hill of his journey, Hercules saw a massive and majestic temple in the distance and knew that no mortal men could have built such a structure in years let alone in days…but there it stood, ominous and pulsing with an energy the demi-god recognized immediately as pure evil. The awesome structure glowed with power, seeming to suck the very light from the valley and at the same time emitting a mist that permeated the valley floor with an eerie luminosity. Even in the heat of the Greek sun, an unaccustomed chill caused the huge muscles of Hercules’s powerful body to tighten in the presence of malevolence like none he had encountered in all his adventures and travels before.
While the temple still held its secrets close, the mystery of the disappearing young men was answered. Looking down into the valley, Hercules saw small groups of young men making their way across the valley and into the mist surrounding the priest’s temple…and to his surprise, he smelled a cloying scent on the air and felt a peculiar pull toward the temple himself. However, fearing no man, no beast, and no priest and trusting in the blood of the gods running through his veins to protect him as it always had, Hercules joined a pair of young men on their dark journey toward the temple seeing immediately their dazed expressions…under some wicked spell, these men and his own troubled senses were signs to the mighty man to move with care as the priest’s magic was obviously strong. The powerful demi-god bravely moved with the two young men on their strange journey toward the Egyptian temple and a fate he could not yet imagine.
Cresting the final hill of his journey, Hercules saw a massive and majestic temple in the distance and knew that no mortal men could have built such a structure in years let alone in days…but there it stood, ominous and pulsing with an energy the demi-god recognized immediately as pure evil. The awesome structure glowed with power, seeming to suck the very light from the valley and at the same time emitting a mist that permeated the valley floor with an eerie luminosity. Even in the heat of the Greek sun, an unaccustomed chill caused the huge muscles of Hercules’s powerful body to tighten in the presence of malevolence like none he had encountered in all his adventures and travels before.
While the temple still held its secrets close, the mystery of the disappearing young men was answered. Looking down into the valley, Hercules saw small groups of young men making their way across the valley and into the mist surrounding the priest’s temple…and to his surprise, he smelled a cloying scent on the air and felt a peculiar pull toward the temple himself. However, fearing no man, no beast, and no priest and trusting in the blood of the gods running through his veins to protect him as it always had, Hercules joined a pair of young men on their dark journey toward the temple seeing immediately their dazed expressions…under some wicked spell, these men and his own troubled senses were signs to the mighty man to move with care as the priest’s magic was obviously strong. The powerful demi-god bravely moved with the two young men on their strange journey toward the Egyptian temple and a fate he could not yet imagine.
Part Two
HEM NETJER had cast yet another spell over the surrounding countryside calling more young men to their new fate and their new master. He would sacrifice their virile, male essence to the gods for greater power over this humble land that was his temporary home. Then he would add their strong, soulless bodies to his growing army. His ambition had been his downfall when he had underestimated the combined power of the other priests of his homeland. In Greece, there were no powerful servants of his gods to challenge him, therefore, he would build his magic with the very life of this land’s physically powerful young men and create an army of undefeatable warriors. Then, one day, HEM NETJER would return to his homeland stronger than ever and take vengeance on those who had turned against him.
Moving to a window at the highest point of his temple, the priest looked through a golden looking glass just in time to see the most magnificent man-beast he had ever seen make his way down the far hill. Joining his already enslaved countrymen who answered the call of the mist, the powerful servant of the gods immediately knew this man was not pulled by the mist but following it like a predator to its prey. HEM NETJER’s temper…a very dark and dangerous temper…stirred at the intrusion into his new domain…but that anger was tinged with something else the priest could not quite place…no mortal man could resist the mist’s magic and yet this mighty Greek did. The priest did not need the long golden tube fitted with a piece of special glass to see that this near-naked creature was a giant among men, easily a head taller and more powerfully built than any of the formidable men of this land who had already so impressed HEM NETJER with their physical stature and strength. This Greek moving into the mist of his own free will was strikingly, almost painfully handsome and more massively muscled than any two of the most powerfully built warrior slaves combined. The giant’s proportions were so extreme that just the sight of such a mighty man made the priest’s heart pound. He suddenly recognized that not-quite-placed something that tinged his anger as a mixture of lust…and fear. Lust he knew all too wellthough never so strongly as that which this gigantic creature stirred. Fear, however, he was unaccustomed to and its presence inflamed his anger…how could this man, giant that he was, NOT be under the power of mist? No man was strong enough to resist its call and controlling powers yet this rippling giant was…and this man intruded into HEM NETJER’s domain with the boldness only a hunter possessed. The dark priest knew he himself was the only prey worth risking everything for in this temple and began making his plans to meet this Greek foe, this god in human form, striding boldly with purpose and courage among the enchanted men who were already little more than cattle.
The sheer physical power the Greek exuded caused the priest’s anger to flare even more strongly as HEM NETJER caught himself being mesmerized by the giant’s fluid and yet powerful movement, taking in every ripple and every massive bulge of unbelievable muscle. With each bold stride, huge slabs of sinew on draft-horse thighs flowed like liquid marble, snapping tight and hard into pillars of solid, bronze-colored rock, only to release and roll again. With every contraction of tremendous thigh muscle, a melon-sized leather pouch attached to his narrow hips simply by thin leather strips…this giant’s only covering save his sandals…bounced from one mighty leg to the other like a child’s ball…a very large child’s ball. With every twist of his mighty body, this huge man’s narrow waist…smaller than either thigh…rippled and danced under the hairless bronze skin so dramatically that the priest was amazed. Through the looking glass the Egyptian could nearly trace with his finger the deeply chiseled, perfectly symmetrical bricks of muscle stacked four to a side and framed by the intricately carved sinew of this titan’s torso. With every swing of arms the size of a normal warrior’s thighs and every bulge of magnificent muscle, this huge man exuded a sense of strength like no man before him. The priest marveled as those arms swung from shoulders so broad and so massive they would block any doorway. With every awesome breath, the giant’s enormous barrel of a chest could easily be seen to expand to more than twice the size of his waist. Even more magnificent were the two colossal blocks of pectoral muscle jutting out from his barrel of a rib cage to form an overhang of hard, square man-meat easily as thick as a grown man’s hand was wide. The evil observer’s lust multiplied as those slabs bounced and rolled sensually with the rhythm of the Greek’s proudstride. To add to the Egyptian’s lust even more, those mammoth slabs of hairless muscle were capped with reddish-brown cones twice the size of a gold coin and those cones glistened like eyes in the sun on that huge chest.
If this Greek had carried the battle scars of a soldier or a slave, or the ugly visage of an ogre, HEM NETJER may possibly have been able to control his lust. But no…every inch of this man-among-men’s body was covered with hairless, sun-bronzed skin, unblemished and stretched to near bursting over muscles twice the size of the largest warrior’s. Worse, the sheer beauty of this man with the face of an angel and a devil with his wavy dark hair, his piercing black eyes that were fixed so boldly on the Egyptian’s temple, and his smooth skin accentuated by a dark goatee all combined to take the priest’s breath away. No mere man had affected HEM NETJER in this manner before. No mere man had struck the cord in his heart or his loins as had this near-naked giant. For this creature to have such an effect on the priest, to have such power to push the priest to the point of distraction was unforgivable. The added insult of entering into HEM NETJER’s world uninvited and uncalled was punishable by the most extreme means.
“I know not who you are, Greek man of muscle, but you will pay for trespassing in my world and you will pay dearly. No man, giant or not, can withstand the full power of HEM NETJER.”
Moving to a window at the highest point of his temple, the priest looked through a golden looking glass just in time to see the most magnificent man-beast he had ever seen make his way down the far hill. Joining his already enslaved countrymen who answered the call of the mist, the powerful servant of the gods immediately knew this man was not pulled by the mist but following it like a predator to its prey. HEM NETJER’s temper…a very dark and dangerous temper…stirred at the intrusion into his new domain…but that anger was tinged with something else the priest could not quite place…no mortal man could resist the mist’s magic and yet this mighty Greek did. The priest did not need the long golden tube fitted with a piece of special glass to see that this near-naked creature was a giant among men, easily a head taller and more powerfully built than any of the formidable men of this land who had already so impressed HEM NETJER with their physical stature and strength. This Greek moving into the mist of his own free will was strikingly, almost painfully handsome and more massively muscled than any two of the most powerfully built warrior slaves combined. The giant’s proportions were so extreme that just the sight of such a mighty man made the priest’s heart pound. He suddenly recognized that not-quite-placed something that tinged his anger as a mixture of lust…and fear. Lust he knew all too wellthough never so strongly as that which this gigantic creature stirred. Fear, however, he was unaccustomed to and its presence inflamed his anger…how could this man, giant that he was, NOT be under the power of mist? No man was strong enough to resist its call and controlling powers yet this rippling giant was…and this man intruded into HEM NETJER’s domain with the boldness only a hunter possessed. The dark priest knew he himself was the only prey worth risking everything for in this temple and began making his plans to meet this Greek foe, this god in human form, striding boldly with purpose and courage among the enchanted men who were already little more than cattle.
The sheer physical power the Greek exuded caused the priest’s anger to flare even more strongly as HEM NETJER caught himself being mesmerized by the giant’s fluid and yet powerful movement, taking in every ripple and every massive bulge of unbelievable muscle. With each bold stride, huge slabs of sinew on draft-horse thighs flowed like liquid marble, snapping tight and hard into pillars of solid, bronze-colored rock, only to release and roll again. With every contraction of tremendous thigh muscle, a melon-sized leather pouch attached to his narrow hips simply by thin leather strips…this giant’s only covering save his sandals…bounced from one mighty leg to the other like a child’s ball…a very large child’s ball. With every twist of his mighty body, this huge man’s narrow waist…smaller than either thigh…rippled and danced under the hairless bronze skin so dramatically that the priest was amazed. Through the looking glass the Egyptian could nearly trace with his finger the deeply chiseled, perfectly symmetrical bricks of muscle stacked four to a side and framed by the intricately carved sinew of this titan’s torso. With every swing of arms the size of a normal warrior’s thighs and every bulge of magnificent muscle, this huge man exuded a sense of strength like no man before him. The priest marveled as those arms swung from shoulders so broad and so massive they would block any doorway. With every awesome breath, the giant’s enormous barrel of a chest could easily be seen to expand to more than twice the size of his waist. Even more magnificent were the two colossal blocks of pectoral muscle jutting out from his barrel of a rib cage to form an overhang of hard, square man-meat easily as thick as a grown man’s hand was wide. The evil observer’s lust multiplied as those slabs bounced and rolled sensually with the rhythm of the Greek’s proudstride. To add to the Egyptian’s lust even more, those mammoth slabs of hairless muscle were capped with reddish-brown cones twice the size of a gold coin and those cones glistened like eyes in the sun on that huge chest.
If this Greek had carried the battle scars of a soldier or a slave, or the ugly visage of an ogre, HEM NETJER may possibly have been able to control his lust. But no…every inch of this man-among-men’s body was covered with hairless, sun-bronzed skin, unblemished and stretched to near bursting over muscles twice the size of the largest warrior’s. Worse, the sheer beauty of this man with the face of an angel and a devil with his wavy dark hair, his piercing black eyes that were fixed so boldly on the Egyptian’s temple, and his smooth skin accentuated by a dark goatee all combined to take the priest’s breath away. No mere man had affected HEM NETJER in this manner before. No mere man had struck the cord in his heart or his loins as had this near-naked giant. For this creature to have such an effect on the priest, to have such power to push the priest to the point of distraction was unforgivable. The added insult of entering into HEM NETJER’s world uninvited and uncalled was punishable by the most extreme means.
“I know not who you are, Greek man of muscle, but you will pay for trespassing in my world and you will pay dearly. No man, giant or not, can withstand the full power of HEM NETJER.”
Part Three
Hercules, spotting guards at the entrance to the temple and, not yet ready to make his presence known or to be challenged by his own enchanted countrymen, he slipped away from his spellbound companions and followed the wall that was the dark temple’s base. Several yards away from the gate, the demi-god noticed a strange vine, foreign to this land, growing up the wall as if it had been growing for years instead of the few days since the temple had mysteriously appeared. Nevertheless, Hercules accepted what he saw before him as an opportunity to exploit instead of the trap that was one of many secrets of this temple. A few more yards and he moved around a corner and out of sight of the great doors and those who guarded them. On the north wall, he found the vine strong enough to hold even the weight of his massive frame and began climbing. Reaching the top of the wall, Hercules realized that it truly was a side of the base of the strange temple forming a 15-foot ledge all the way around the pyramid structure. The strange vine covered the ledge all the way to the pyramid’s walls and also covered at least the lower third of the temple. Hercules hesitated, aware of a low rustling noise among the large green leaves and thick vine stalks. Seeing nothing but vegetation, he looked up toward the receding wall of the pyramid to where the vines grew well above a row of 3 windows some 20 feet above him. Though this seemed too easy and on his guard for a trap, Hercules began to climb…never imaging just what kind of trap into which he was stepping.
Muscle of the gods making light work of the climb up the strong vines, Hercules positioned himself outside the large center window and looked down into the temple. His blood ran hot with anger at the sight of so many Greeks enthralled to this priest called HEM NETJER. There must have been 100 young men, obviously Greeks but dressed as Egyptians performing all manner of chores and tasks within the temple, their glazed eyes telling Hercules they did not perform of their own choice.
“What power must this dark priest have to enslave so many men and call even more into his service?” the demi-god wondered.
Looking for the perpetrator of this wrong, Hercules spotted a man who stood above the others at a raised alter directly below this middle window. The man was decorated much more ornately than his thralls and yet wore only a white covering about his narrow hips. Powerfully built with his head and body shaved and his eyes painted, the man was handsome in his own way if not somewhat sinister in expression. This priest stood above a huge urn the size of an ox cart and waved his hand over its eerily glowing contents, whispering strange words. This urn resembled the cauldron of the three blind witches of lore and was the source of the glowing mist that saturated the valley and called to it’s young Greek men. Stranger than the mist, there was no fire beneath the great urn to make its contents bubble and churn, yet, bubble and churn they did, the contents a milky, eerily iridescent white with the mist being released into the air above with the bursting of each bubble. Hercules knew that only the blood of the gods saved him thus far from the call of that evil mist but that call was stronger than ever, now, and the demi-god wondered how close he could get to that wicked cauldron before even his more-than-mortal blood could no longer protect him.
At that moment, the prince Iphytus entered through a doorway guarded by two great, golden serpents of stone rearing their hooded heads to stand twice the height of the young, strangely garbed man. Hercules nearly cried out to warn the prince, as he would swear the onyx eyes of the huge snakes followed his every move. But they made no move to attack and the prince moved to the priest’s side. To his great sadness, Hercules could see from the glazed eyes of his dear friend that the prince was no threat to the Egyptian. The evil mist had done its magic and enslaved the young ruler to his new master.
“This will not go unpunished,” Hercules growled to himself, an anger stirring in his heart that rivaled any before it.
Then, to the surprise of Hercules, the priest looked directly up at his perch in the window as if having heard the vow and smiled and evil smile. For all his stealth, the Greek giant’s presence had been known all along.
“Welcome to my temple, giant man of muscle…join us!” With that, the Egyptian shouted some strange words and suddenly the rustling noise Hercules had heard before now became louder.
Something encircled his left wrist and something else took hold of his right ankle…to his amazement, it was the vines themselves coming to life!!! Quickly, the demi-god tore the vine from his wrist only to have it replaced by a much larger one. Before he could remove the second vine, yet another had encircled his free wrist and ankle and pulled his mighty limbs wide. Stunned at the sight of the vines pulling away from the wall and window above him and totally unprepared for them to take him with them, the vines had lifted the giant of a man into the air as if he weighed nothing only to drop him through the window. Before he knew it Hercules, son of Zeus, was hanging helplessly in the air directly over the huge and glowing urn. He struggled in vain to free himself, all too aware of an increase in the sickening sweetness of the vapor rising from the glowing urn. Hercules fought even harder to free himself, pulling mightily at the living evil that bound him. The great vines gave just enough under the strength of his awesome power to prevent his breaking their hold only to pull his limbs back into a widespread and vulnerable position. The more he struggled, the harder he breath, his massive chest inhaling too much of the evil mist. The great Hercules could feel that awful vapor cling to his face and seep into his muscled body. The harder he fought, the brighter the vapor glowed…and the weaker Hercules’s great sinews became, his mind clouding so that he could no longer focus clearly.
Intrigued by the strength of this mighty Greek and amazed a his resistance to the powers of the mist, HEM NETJER’s heart pounded all the way down to his loins at the sight of this magnificent being twisting with the power of ten men in his living restraints. Every enormous muscle in this man’s body quivered and bulged and fought against the vines even as his mind struggled to fight against the call of the mist…but the priest could see the battle waning.
A gasp from the spellbound prince drew the priest’s attention and surprise…the sight of this near-naked giant under his power had somehow pierced the veil of young Iphytus’s clouded mind.
“You know this man, slave?”
“Yes…master,” Iphytus answered, HEM NETJER not missing the hesitation.
“Your reaction to his capture is strong enough to give you some measure of strength against my power…only a momentary lapse let me assure you, my pet. Now tell me…who is this giant man of muscle?” asked the dark priest.
“He is the mighty Hercules, son of the god Zeus and a mortal woman, half-man, half-god,” answered the prince, unable to hold back or protect Hercules in anyway though the sight of his dear friend stirred his mind strongly against its magical bonds.
“Something tells me this man is more than just a hero to you. I can see his great strength, slave prince. Now tell me, what is his weakness?” hissed HEM NETJER.
The sight of the great Hercules captured, his huge limbs drawn wide and bulging with power, his great torso with his humbling musculature writhing against the possessed vines, and the demi-god held vulnerably in the air by the Egyptian’s magic…this sight affected the enslaved mind of Iphytus so greatly, the struggle was visible on the face of the young prince even through the priest’s black magic.
“SPEAK!” HEM NETJER commanded, re-enforcing his hold on the prince’s mind with a wave of his hand that sent the mist circling about his head.
The struggle ceased and the prince said, “His human half can be harmed and caused pain but he cannot be killed or permanently maimed. His god-like strength allows him to protect himself from injury…control his mind and his strength and you can cause physical harm…but his body will heal itself. My father, the king, has sent him here to destroy you, evil priest.”
“We’ll see about that, slave prince. Your king’s champion, Hercules, is already succumbing to my power. Once defeated, he will pay dearly for daring to enter my temple…I will enjoy causing your hero GREAT PAIN and testing his healing powers. If he survives his punishment, I will drain your half-man, half-god of his superhuman essence and offer it to MY gods…his essence added to my magic will give me more than enough power to end your father’s rule and take these lands for my own. Then I will return to my home and DESTROY THOSE WHO BETRAYED ME!” cried HEM NETJER
Muscle of the gods making light work of the climb up the strong vines, Hercules positioned himself outside the large center window and looked down into the temple. His blood ran hot with anger at the sight of so many Greeks enthralled to this priest called HEM NETJER. There must have been 100 young men, obviously Greeks but dressed as Egyptians performing all manner of chores and tasks within the temple, their glazed eyes telling Hercules they did not perform of their own choice.
“What power must this dark priest have to enslave so many men and call even more into his service?” the demi-god wondered.
Looking for the perpetrator of this wrong, Hercules spotted a man who stood above the others at a raised alter directly below this middle window. The man was decorated much more ornately than his thralls and yet wore only a white covering about his narrow hips. Powerfully built with his head and body shaved and his eyes painted, the man was handsome in his own way if not somewhat sinister in expression. This priest stood above a huge urn the size of an ox cart and waved his hand over its eerily glowing contents, whispering strange words. This urn resembled the cauldron of the three blind witches of lore and was the source of the glowing mist that saturated the valley and called to it’s young Greek men. Stranger than the mist, there was no fire beneath the great urn to make its contents bubble and churn, yet, bubble and churn they did, the contents a milky, eerily iridescent white with the mist being released into the air above with the bursting of each bubble. Hercules knew that only the blood of the gods saved him thus far from the call of that evil mist but that call was stronger than ever, now, and the demi-god wondered how close he could get to that wicked cauldron before even his more-than-mortal blood could no longer protect him.
At that moment, the prince Iphytus entered through a doorway guarded by two great, golden serpents of stone rearing their hooded heads to stand twice the height of the young, strangely garbed man. Hercules nearly cried out to warn the prince, as he would swear the onyx eyes of the huge snakes followed his every move. But they made no move to attack and the prince moved to the priest’s side. To his great sadness, Hercules could see from the glazed eyes of his dear friend that the prince was no threat to the Egyptian. The evil mist had done its magic and enslaved the young ruler to his new master.
“This will not go unpunished,” Hercules growled to himself, an anger stirring in his heart that rivaled any before it.
Then, to the surprise of Hercules, the priest looked directly up at his perch in the window as if having heard the vow and smiled and evil smile. For all his stealth, the Greek giant’s presence had been known all along.
“Welcome to my temple, giant man of muscle…join us!” With that, the Egyptian shouted some strange words and suddenly the rustling noise Hercules had heard before now became louder.
Something encircled his left wrist and something else took hold of his right ankle…to his amazement, it was the vines themselves coming to life!!! Quickly, the demi-god tore the vine from his wrist only to have it replaced by a much larger one. Before he could remove the second vine, yet another had encircled his free wrist and ankle and pulled his mighty limbs wide. Stunned at the sight of the vines pulling away from the wall and window above him and totally unprepared for them to take him with them, the vines had lifted the giant of a man into the air as if he weighed nothing only to drop him through the window. Before he knew it Hercules, son of Zeus, was hanging helplessly in the air directly over the huge and glowing urn. He struggled in vain to free himself, all too aware of an increase in the sickening sweetness of the vapor rising from the glowing urn. Hercules fought even harder to free himself, pulling mightily at the living evil that bound him. The great vines gave just enough under the strength of his awesome power to prevent his breaking their hold only to pull his limbs back into a widespread and vulnerable position. The more he struggled, the harder he breath, his massive chest inhaling too much of the evil mist. The great Hercules could feel that awful vapor cling to his face and seep into his muscled body. The harder he fought, the brighter the vapor glowed…and the weaker Hercules’s great sinews became, his mind clouding so that he could no longer focus clearly.
Intrigued by the strength of this mighty Greek and amazed a his resistance to the powers of the mist, HEM NETJER’s heart pounded all the way down to his loins at the sight of this magnificent being twisting with the power of ten men in his living restraints. Every enormous muscle in this man’s body quivered and bulged and fought against the vines even as his mind struggled to fight against the call of the mist…but the priest could see the battle waning.
A gasp from the spellbound prince drew the priest’s attention and surprise…the sight of this near-naked giant under his power had somehow pierced the veil of young Iphytus’s clouded mind.
“You know this man, slave?”
“Yes…master,” Iphytus answered, HEM NETJER not missing the hesitation.
“Your reaction to his capture is strong enough to give you some measure of strength against my power…only a momentary lapse let me assure you, my pet. Now tell me…who is this giant man of muscle?” asked the dark priest.
“He is the mighty Hercules, son of the god Zeus and a mortal woman, half-man, half-god,” answered the prince, unable to hold back or protect Hercules in anyway though the sight of his dear friend stirred his mind strongly against its magical bonds.
“Something tells me this man is more than just a hero to you. I can see his great strength, slave prince. Now tell me, what is his weakness?” hissed HEM NETJER.
The sight of the great Hercules captured, his huge limbs drawn wide and bulging with power, his great torso with his humbling musculature writhing against the possessed vines, and the demi-god held vulnerably in the air by the Egyptian’s magic…this sight affected the enslaved mind of Iphytus so greatly, the struggle was visible on the face of the young prince even through the priest’s black magic.
“SPEAK!” HEM NETJER commanded, re-enforcing his hold on the prince’s mind with a wave of his hand that sent the mist circling about his head.
The struggle ceased and the prince said, “His human half can be harmed and caused pain but he cannot be killed or permanently maimed. His god-like strength allows him to protect himself from injury…control his mind and his strength and you can cause physical harm…but his body will heal itself. My father, the king, has sent him here to destroy you, evil priest.”
“We’ll see about that, slave prince. Your king’s champion, Hercules, is already succumbing to my power. Once defeated, he will pay dearly for daring to enter my temple…I will enjoy causing your hero GREAT PAIN and testing his healing powers. If he survives his punishment, I will drain your half-man, half-god of his superhuman essence and offer it to MY gods…his essence added to my magic will give me more than enough power to end your father’s rule and take these lands for my own. Then I will return to my home and DESTROY THOSE WHO BETRAYED ME!” cried HEM NETJER
Part Four
Hercules hung over the bubbling cauldron helplessly, struggling now only on instinct as his mind became more and more clouded and unfocused. His awesome muscles pulled reflexively and in vain even as his mind wandered in a gray fog. A voice was raised and a strange tongue was spoken through the fog but it had no meaning to the vulnerable demi-god. A strange sound like stone rubbing stone broke through the fog but only added to his confusion. Then PAIN!!! WHITE HOT SEARING PAIN exploded through the fog! Hercules opened his eyes to stare down into the deepest, blackest and most evil eyes his mind could fathom, his clouded senses not yet comprehending what he saw, his weakened body now on fire. Just as pain started to clear his mind only slightly, a shadow appeared over him…two golden daggers hovered over his left shoulder only a moment before sinking deep into the massive muscle of his chest.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! !” Hercules bellowed in rage and agony as another black eye from hell stared malevolently back at him, a second explosion of volcanic pain ripping through his entire chest.
His mind reeling from the agony cleared completely of the fog and Hercules in absolute hell looked down to see the two enormous golden serpents that had guarded the door, their mouths closed over his chest, their fangs sunk into his meaty flesh. The demi-god panted and gasped for breath as their powerful jaws closed tighter on his body, crushing and squeezing him in their grasp, smaller teeth sliced into his massive back like daggers, fangs like large knives sank deeply into the meaty slabs of mighty chest muscle. A groan escaped the huge man as the vines released their hold and his body, twice as heavy as the largest of mortal men, sagged in the grip of the serpents mouths literally hanging from their fangs embedded deeply in the meat of his chest.
Staring into those eyes as black as the deepest pits of hell, Hercules saw them turn the red of demon eyes and he cried out in an agony ten times worse than that he had just experienced. If the explosions of pain caused by the monstrous fangs sinking into his flesh were like volcanoes, the burning pain as these evil stone snakes injected their demonic venom into his body was like pure, super-heated lava coursing through him. Hercules’s vision narrowed to where he could only see those glowing red eyes as they pulsed with horrible power, his entire body now pulsing in rhythmic anguish. The poison did it’s work fast, the demi-god’s mighty body hanging limply from the fangs of these evil creatures all fight and strength drained. The glowing red eyes that were his entire world now slowly faded to black as the mighty Hercules sank into darkness.
“Wake up, Hercules,” a voice ordered through the darkness. “Wake up, son of Zeus, I command it.”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! !” Hercules bellowed in rage and agony as another black eye from hell stared malevolently back at him, a second explosion of volcanic pain ripping through his entire chest.
His mind reeling from the agony cleared completely of the fog and Hercules in absolute hell looked down to see the two enormous golden serpents that had guarded the door, their mouths closed over his chest, their fangs sunk into his meaty flesh. The demi-god panted and gasped for breath as their powerful jaws closed tighter on his body, crushing and squeezing him in their grasp, smaller teeth sliced into his massive back like daggers, fangs like large knives sank deeply into the meaty slabs of mighty chest muscle. A groan escaped the huge man as the vines released their hold and his body, twice as heavy as the largest of mortal men, sagged in the grip of the serpents mouths literally hanging from their fangs embedded deeply in the meat of his chest.
Staring into those eyes as black as the deepest pits of hell, Hercules saw them turn the red of demon eyes and he cried out in an agony ten times worse than that he had just experienced. If the explosions of pain caused by the monstrous fangs sinking into his flesh were like volcanoes, the burning pain as these evil stone snakes injected their demonic venom into his body was like pure, super-heated lava coursing through him. Hercules’s vision narrowed to where he could only see those glowing red eyes as they pulsed with horrible power, his entire body now pulsing in rhythmic anguish. The poison did it’s work fast, the demi-god’s mighty body hanging limply from the fangs of these evil creatures all fight and strength drained. The glowing red eyes that were his entire world now slowly faded to black as the mighty Hercules sank into darkness.
“Wake up, Hercules,” a voice ordered through the darkness. “Wake up, son of Zeus, I command it.”
Hercules somehow recognized the gray fog that replaced the darkness, only this time it was accompanied by liquid fire burning through his strained muscles. Struggling to the surface of the fog, the demi-god opened his eyes to see before him a strange man he did not know and yet knew he should. He pulled at his arms, which would not move at his command, and a powerful throbbing burned hotly through his body, distracting him and he groaned at the surge of pain, his muscles swelling to full contraction and quivering as spasm after spasm of torment rippled through them.
Gasping as the throbbing pain subsided only a little, Hercules looked up from where he knelt on the floor, memory of the stone snakes and anger surfacing simultaneously in his mind. Quickly the mighty Greek assessed his situation and knew that he must control his anger to figure out his escape. Kneeling naked with his arms and feet chained behind him and unable to break free of mere metal restraints, Hercules knew he was still under the priest’s evil spell…and knew it was only a matter of time before the blood of the gods cleansed his body of the evil venom still in his veins. But for now, he also knew that any movement or any straining of powerful muscle would set off another round of intense pain.
“How do you know me, wizard?” growled Hercules between deep breaths.
“Ha! Ha! The arrogance of a god if not the powers…at least no longer the powers,” sneered the priest. “I know a great deal about you, demi-god! I know that you were sent here to capture me and free my slaves defeating my army before it is even formed. I know that you are stronger and more resistant to my magic than any mortal man could be. I know that by controlling either your mind or your strength or both that I control you, champion of Eurytus,” he spat. “For now, the venom of my serpents controls your strength because I want you all too aware of what is happening to you, you arrogant behemoth.”
“By the GODS…!” started Hercules, his anger getting the better of him.
“SILENCE!” the priest shouted, standing over Hercules who stared defiantly at his captor. “Your gods are PUNY compared to mine, Greek, and I will show you the folly of interfering in my plans!!! But then…” the priest said, his manner shifting completely from ranting to an all-too-sickening sweetness, “I would not have the means to fulfill my plans so soon had you not so boldly walked into my temple, my mighty warrior.”
“What do you babble about, priest?” Hercules prodded, not missing the flash of anger and madness that quickly hid again behind the eyes of a mortal man. “You’ve not reckoned with the son of Zeus before and you may not know as much about this Greek or his gods as you think.”
“Whether you are the son of Zeus or not, Hercules, you possess a strength like none other,” he answered, the false sweetness then changing to pure malevolence. “I will drain that which makes you the most powerful man in your land and combine it with my magic, which you’ve already seen is most formidable, to cast a spell of unheard of power over this kingdom. Once Greece is mine, you…or at least the shell of your magnificent body…will lead my army of warriors, which will be immune to all magic but my own, into battle against my enemies and clear the way home for me. The enslaved young men of your country are no more than cattle for now but when I’m through with them, they will be the most invincible army in the world and you, their champion bull, will become their general in my war. But…the ceremony I have planned for you, takes time to prepare for, son of Zeus. So, while you are still a bull and not a general, you will pay for your insolence and arrogance in challenging me and you will pay dearly.”
Then, with a wicked gleam in his piercing eyes, HEM NETJER spoke in the strange language Hercules had heard him use earlier and it was as if the very blood in the massive body of Hercules began to boil…only this time, something even stranger started to happen. Gasping and panting through the pain of his huge muscles swelling and contracting as if possessed, which they were, Hercules leaned forward to see if what he felt could possibly be true. Groaning as his huge muscles were racked with spasms of agony yet again, the Greek hero stared past his sweat-drenched, heaving chest, barely noticing the pair of nearly healed puncture wounds over each large nipple.
“What madness is this, priest?” he growled as those very nipples grew hard and throbbed as if being suckled by the most talented of lovers and his manhood impossibly began to rise and harden even as his mighty muscles cramped and bulged in pain, a different kind of fire coursing through his member. “What are you doing?” Hercules half growled half gasped in pain and erotic pleasure of the most perverse kind.
“Rather than put a ring through the nose of that angelic face, my prized bull, I’m going to put a ring through that bull’s cock with which to lead you before your countrymen as the proud beast you are,” the priest grinned, producing from his tunic a gold ring fitting for the nose of a bull…a very large bull.
“GREAT ZEUS!” Hercules cried out as the touch of this fiend’s hands on his swollen and throbbing manhood sent the current of a thousand lightening bolts through him and to his very core. Never had his cock been so hard and so painfully swollen and so unbelievably sensitive.
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” the great Hercules screamed in anguish as the golden ring was pressed into his flesh, which seemed to turn molten through this evil magic and literally melt around the vertical metal edge of the ring. Pulling at his chains, the intentional contraction of his great muscles triggered another, more devastating explosion of burning pain throughout his mighty frame, magnified even more by the sensitivity caused by the inflicted sexual arousal.
Grunting and panting in conflicting agony and ecstasy, his mighty body experiencing sensations so extraordinary that his mind could barely process them, the demi-god stared down in disbelief at the ring passing through the opening of his cock and out through the flesh at the bottom of its now fist-like head, the ring hooked on the finger of this ungodly creature that literally held the great Hercules by his very manhood.
In the time it took Hercules to regain his senses, HEM NETJER had affixed the ring to a chain and that chain, in turn to an even greater ring in the floor. His manhood, normally the size of a mortal man’s forearm and standing at an upward angle from his body, was through this black magic larger still and as rigid as any tree. The pull of the chain and the ring now embedded in the super-sensitized flesh of his cock head forced that great member to point downward toward the stone floor, the constant pull against his body adding that much more to his great discomfort.
Glaring up at his captor, massive chest heaving, mighty muscles taught and painfully bulging, Hercules growled at the dark priest like the great beast into which this evil man was trying to turn him.
HEM NETJER laughed in his own arrogance, pleased that this huge warrior was proving so hard to break. Enthralled to his will, this magnificent Greek would become an even greater warrior than his own people believed him to be.
“That should keep you entertained until I am ready for you, son of Zeus,” the priest said with distain. “And it is only a taste of what I have in store for your awesome body…and soul.”
With that, the priest left the demi-god on his knees, cock-bound, chained, and unable to use his awesome might without triggering the evil venom still coursing through his veins…
“Your control over me will not last for ever, priest,” growled the mighty Hercules.
Gasping as the throbbing pain subsided only a little, Hercules looked up from where he knelt on the floor, memory of the stone snakes and anger surfacing simultaneously in his mind. Quickly the mighty Greek assessed his situation and knew that he must control his anger to figure out his escape. Kneeling naked with his arms and feet chained behind him and unable to break free of mere metal restraints, Hercules knew he was still under the priest’s evil spell…and knew it was only a matter of time before the blood of the gods cleansed his body of the evil venom still in his veins. But for now, he also knew that any movement or any straining of powerful muscle would set off another round of intense pain.
“How do you know me, wizard?” growled Hercules between deep breaths.
“Ha! Ha! The arrogance of a god if not the powers…at least no longer the powers,” sneered the priest. “I know a great deal about you, demi-god! I know that you were sent here to capture me and free my slaves defeating my army before it is even formed. I know that you are stronger and more resistant to my magic than any mortal man could be. I know that by controlling either your mind or your strength or both that I control you, champion of Eurytus,” he spat. “For now, the venom of my serpents controls your strength because I want you all too aware of what is happening to you, you arrogant behemoth.”
“By the GODS…!” started Hercules, his anger getting the better of him.
“SILENCE!” the priest shouted, standing over Hercules who stared defiantly at his captor. “Your gods are PUNY compared to mine, Greek, and I will show you the folly of interfering in my plans!!! But then…” the priest said, his manner shifting completely from ranting to an all-too-sickening sweetness, “I would not have the means to fulfill my plans so soon had you not so boldly walked into my temple, my mighty warrior.”
“What do you babble about, priest?” Hercules prodded, not missing the flash of anger and madness that quickly hid again behind the eyes of a mortal man. “You’ve not reckoned with the son of Zeus before and you may not know as much about this Greek or his gods as you think.”
“Whether you are the son of Zeus or not, Hercules, you possess a strength like none other,” he answered, the false sweetness then changing to pure malevolence. “I will drain that which makes you the most powerful man in your land and combine it with my magic, which you’ve already seen is most formidable, to cast a spell of unheard of power over this kingdom. Once Greece is mine, you…or at least the shell of your magnificent body…will lead my army of warriors, which will be immune to all magic but my own, into battle against my enemies and clear the way home for me. The enslaved young men of your country are no more than cattle for now but when I’m through with them, they will be the most invincible army in the world and you, their champion bull, will become their general in my war. But…the ceremony I have planned for you, takes time to prepare for, son of Zeus. So, while you are still a bull and not a general, you will pay for your insolence and arrogance in challenging me and you will pay dearly.”
Then, with a wicked gleam in his piercing eyes, HEM NETJER spoke in the strange language Hercules had heard him use earlier and it was as if the very blood in the massive body of Hercules began to boil…only this time, something even stranger started to happen. Gasping and panting through the pain of his huge muscles swelling and contracting as if possessed, which they were, Hercules leaned forward to see if what he felt could possibly be true. Groaning as his huge muscles were racked with spasms of agony yet again, the Greek hero stared past his sweat-drenched, heaving chest, barely noticing the pair of nearly healed puncture wounds over each large nipple.
“What madness is this, priest?” he growled as those very nipples grew hard and throbbed as if being suckled by the most talented of lovers and his manhood impossibly began to rise and harden even as his mighty muscles cramped and bulged in pain, a different kind of fire coursing through his member. “What are you doing?” Hercules half growled half gasped in pain and erotic pleasure of the most perverse kind.
“Rather than put a ring through the nose of that angelic face, my prized bull, I’m going to put a ring through that bull’s cock with which to lead you before your countrymen as the proud beast you are,” the priest grinned, producing from his tunic a gold ring fitting for the nose of a bull…a very large bull.
“GREAT ZEUS!” Hercules cried out as the touch of this fiend’s hands on his swollen and throbbing manhood sent the current of a thousand lightening bolts through him and to his very core. Never had his cock been so hard and so painfully swollen and so unbelievably sensitive.
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” the great Hercules screamed in anguish as the golden ring was pressed into his flesh, which seemed to turn molten through this evil magic and literally melt around the vertical metal edge of the ring. Pulling at his chains, the intentional contraction of his great muscles triggered another, more devastating explosion of burning pain throughout his mighty frame, magnified even more by the sensitivity caused by the inflicted sexual arousal.
Grunting and panting in conflicting agony and ecstasy, his mighty body experiencing sensations so extraordinary that his mind could barely process them, the demi-god stared down in disbelief at the ring passing through the opening of his cock and out through the flesh at the bottom of its now fist-like head, the ring hooked on the finger of this ungodly creature that literally held the great Hercules by his very manhood.
In the time it took Hercules to regain his senses, HEM NETJER had affixed the ring to a chain and that chain, in turn to an even greater ring in the floor. His manhood, normally the size of a mortal man’s forearm and standing at an upward angle from his body, was through this black magic larger still and as rigid as any tree. The pull of the chain and the ring now embedded in the super-sensitized flesh of his cock head forced that great member to point downward toward the stone floor, the constant pull against his body adding that much more to his great discomfort.
Glaring up at his captor, massive chest heaving, mighty muscles taught and painfully bulging, Hercules growled at the dark priest like the great beast into which this evil man was trying to turn him.
HEM NETJER laughed in his own arrogance, pleased that this huge warrior was proving so hard to break. Enthralled to his will, this magnificent Greek would become an even greater warrior than his own people believed him to be.
“That should keep you entertained until I am ready for you, son of Zeus,” the priest said with distain. “And it is only a taste of what I have in store for your awesome body…and soul.”
With that, the priest left the demi-god on his knees, cock-bound, chained, and unable to use his awesome might without triggering the evil venom still coursing through his veins…
“Your control over me will not last for ever, priest,” growled the mighty Hercules.
Part Five
Hercules had no idea how long he had been down in this dungeon chained by his wrists and his now semi-hard cock with the ring piercing its large head. The powerful Greek demi-god had not been idle during his captivity. Though it took much longer than he had anticipated, attesting to the power of this Egyptian priest’s dark magic, he could feel the venom in his system gradually being expelled by the blood of Zeus and the effects on his powerful muscles lessoning. He could feel the arousal spell waning with relief…and to his surprise a strange sense of disappointment? The real question Hercules realized, shaking his head clear of all other thought was if the blood of Zeus could purge his mighty body of the evil quickly enough? That, Hercules did not know.
Over time, the gut wrenching spasms of pain and the brutal contractions of his huge muscles were less easily triggered and slightly less devastating…but still, he could not exert enough force against his chains to free himself before the venom was triggered another episode that left him helpless for some period of time, not something to which the mighty demi-god was accustomed.
“At least I’m not still the buck in total rut,” he growled to himself, staring down at his traitorous manhood and feeling every bit the ringed prized bull.
“That will change shortly, Greek,” HEM NETJER said from the doorway to the dungeon, smiling coldly at the mighty Hercules.
Hercules immediately began to slowly increase the pressure on his chained wrists, wanting desperately to wrap the steel restraints around the priest’s neck and slowly pull them tight. Unfortunately for the bound champion, he strained his still poisoned muscles hard enough to trigger the venom in his body and, though not as strong as previous periods of severe pain, this one was still strong enough to debilitate him completely and prevent his gaining his freedom just yet.
The priest just stood in the doorway, immensely enjoying the show this magnificent physical specimen’s over-muscled body was putting on. The sweat covered torso and limbs bulged and strained and pulsed greatly with burning agony, every sinew outlined in harsh relief, every vein throbbing with power, every movement causing the man’s entire body to ripple like liquid marble.
“Enjoy the view while you can, wizard,” growled Hercules between gasps for breath, recovering slowly from the venom’s effect on his body. “It won’t be lasting much longer.”
“Of that I am well aware, son of a god,” the Egyptian said as he entered the dungeon with a covered tray. “In fact the view will be changing quite significantly though not as you would hope. I sensed you were regaining your strength and am amazed your body is already fighting off the power of the venom…but it lasted long enough for my purposes,” he grinned a humorless grin as he set the tray down on a stone pallet at the wall. ”I also sensed the weakening of my spell to inflame your arousal, but most importantly, that you actually feel a sense of…loss?” he continued, his grin turning more sinister now. “Not to worry, my well-endowed Greek…the reprieve from your imposed sexual fire and your sense of its loss will both be short lived. In fact, you are about to experience a level of…inflammation…” he smiled, truly enjoying is power over such a magnificent specimen, “…that will liken your waning experience to a simple ember or spark.”
Hercules, remembering all too well the fire through his loins flexed his agonized muscles involuntarily at the thought of those conflicting sensations being magnified as the priest threatened. He pulled again at his restraints with an effort just short of that which would trigger the venom remaining in his body unwilling to submit to further abuse by this wicked creature…but it was still not enough to free him.
“It’s time for your next torment, Hercules,” HEM NETJER said. “A torment that will punish your arrogance and prepare you for your destiny as my slave at the same time.”
Then he spoke more words in that foreign, evil tongue.
Suddenly, Hercules felt his mighty muscles flex as if with a mind of their own, harder than any effort he had put into them of his own will before. The poisonous venom exploded through his sinews, the contraction and pain as vicious as any episode so far. The giant Greek bellowed in agony as his own body, his own god-given muscles turned on him yet again, contracting and contorting and bulging with all his power, tying him in knots of torment. He gasped for air, his mighty chest heaving, his awesome muscles bulging, his massive body streaming with sweat and the pain only grew until his mind blurred to a seething cauldron of fire.
Through the haze of slowly subsiding pain, Hercules felt himself being manipulated and moved yet he had no control, no strength, no sense of what was being done to him. His groans echoed from the dungeon walls but Hercules himself could not hear them for the roar of fire that seared his mind. Compared to the periods of agony the demi-god had already endured at the hands of the Egyptian priest, this one pushed even the mighty Hercules to his limits.
As the mighty Hercules began to recover, he knew something was very different. There was a weakness in his limbs more debilitating yet than any episode of agony had left him up to this point. Worse still, his body was more exposed and vulnerable to this dark priest’s evil intentions. As he slowly regained his senses, Hercules found himself to be hanging from his ankles, massive chains drawing his huge legs wide and the weight of his giant’s body resting fully on his broad shoulders. More chains drew his awesome and yet useless arms out to his sides wide and he didn’t have the strength to lift the weight of those mighty limbs even slightly from the dungeon floor.
Suddenly a throb of almost severe intensity drew the demi-god’s attention to his manhood. A groan of discomfort, of humiliation, of frustration…and to his confusion of intense pleasure escaped the helpless Hercules as he saw that his staff had regained it’s prior state of cruel arousal and then some…and had been adorned with more of the priest’s evil jewelry. The enormous shaft swayed heavily over the Greek’s inverted torso, more rigid and harder than Hercules would have believed possible, now the size of his own massive forearm. But this state of induced arousal was magnified by the addition of three large rings tightly encircling his mighty shaft down its length, a fourth encircling the thick base of his shaft and his heavily burdened ball sack, and a fifth and sixth ring around his heavy sack above his large balls, separating them from each other and his body. To fuel his anger and his arousal, the original ring still pierced and hung heavy from the head of his shaft, which was now as large as his own giant’s fist and visibly throbbed as it swayed over his head.
“What more perverse evil will this man do to me?” Hercules groaned in helplessness like none other experienced in his many adventures.
“That you are about to see, demi-god,” HEM NETJER answered, moving to stand between the mighty Hercules’s extended legs. Again, the priest spoke in that foul language and the Greek felt another more vicious throb through his manhood that made him gasp.
He watched in amazement as his member swelled to new and terrifying…and exciting…proportions, expanding with every powerful beat of his heart, pulsing with a mixture of god-like and venomous vitality that chilled him to his core…only…the rings, tight already about his meaty cock, did not grow with the man-meat they entrapped. Instead, those vile circles of metal seemed to almost shrink about the sensitized flesh, constricting his very manhood as it continued to swell and grow and pulse before his captive eyes. Another groan of conflicted sensation and emotion escaped the huge and helpless Greek as the flesh of his manhood literally bulged from between the tightening rings and the already oversized head of that massive organ expanded like a wine sack filled to bursting.
Panting heavily, his mind swirling in confusion, the throbbing ache of his tortured muscles, the humiliation of all that made him masculine being manipulated by such evil, and the frustration of his total helplessness all at odds with the growing pleasure that seemed to be increasing with every moment. Hercules stared up at the dark priest unable to focus his mind and unable to take his eyes off the organ that pulsated and bulged and bounced above him for more than an instant.
“Let me clear up some of your confusion, mighty son of Zeus,” HEM NETJER smiled cruelly down at his totally vulnerable and mesmerized prize.
A chill of dread passed through Hercules even in his inflamed state of mind and body as the priest played absentmindedly with a viper the length of a mortal man’s height.
“The essence of manhood possessed by the young men of this land you call Greece carries with it a potency that my gods crave. I milk these men as a farmer would milk a cow and surrender their milk to appease my gods…who in return grant more power to me. You, Greek demi-god, son of Zeus, possess a potency and strength like none other in this land and will surrender your magnificent male essence to make me invincible. However, unlike your countrymen,” HEM NETJER, smiled malevolently, “your demi-god powers give you stamina and recuperative powers like none I’ve ever seen. Not being one to waste such an opportunity, I will use my magic to build in your bull’s balls a quantity of your essence that will ensure the potency of my final spell on this land. Then I will drain you dry, mighty warrior, of your essence and your very soul to leave you a totally mindless hulk of muscle to do my bidding. To do this, the rings of restraint have been applied to prevent you releasing your essence until so much has built in up your body that you literally are about to explode…that will be your pleasure and your punishment, Greek, for your arrogance in thinking you could capture me. That which makes you the warrior that you are will be the very thing which makes you my slave.”
“Never,” growled Hercules.
“We shall see,” replied the priest as he lowered the viper in his hands toward the exposed manhood of the mighty and totally helpless Hercules.
Hercules gasped in revulsion and twisted pleasure as the serpent slithered between his huge balls and onto his rock-hard and highly sensitive shaft, the traitorous man-meat bulging harder still at the unwelcome stimulation. The captive Greek groaned in dark pleasure as the evil creature coiled and recoiled itself about the length of that throbbing piece of meat, the strong muscles of its undulating body squeezing and caressing and masturbating the already over-stimulated organ to new heights of sexual arousal. Only the now massive head of Hercules’s great shaft was visible as the coiling creature flexed and writhed about its captured prey. Its black eyes in a head only slightly smaller than the pulsing ball of heated flesh upon which it rested stared down at the helpless demi-god tauntingly.
As if the great Hercules had not been pushed to the limits already, HEM NETJER stood over the Greek’s defenseless body and released two more, slightly smaller serpents onto the bulging manhood at his mercy. Hercules groaned with new dread as each serpent coiled itself around the isolated sack between ring and the large, manly ball held separate from its owner. His groan grew louder as the constricting bodies tightened and squeezed and tightened more, pressing the large glands of his manhood deeper into the ever-shrinking sacks of skin that contained them, the pressure on those large balls of manhood turning to an aching pain that only grew. Amazingly to the bound champion, this ache only served to stimulate his awesome arousal even more if that were possible and his mind reeled at the conflicting emotions and sensations that would have driven any mortal man mad.
Near delirious with physical and mental torments like no man had endured before, the black and piercing eyes of the great Hercules grew wide with disbelief as this most evil of foes held still another serpent in his hands, this one the largest yet.
“What more…evil…madness,” Hercules half gasped half growled through the confusion of sensations overwhelming him, “will you impose, monster priest?”
“You will soon find out, my most prized pet of all,” grinned HEM NETJER.
Holding the hissing serpent by its thick neck, it’s head as large as the priest’s hand, the dark one whispered words of evil to the air above and then ran his other hand from head to tail of the creature. Through his swirling thoughts, Hercules was not sure if what he saw was real or not as the serpent changed from writhing mass to rigid spear. Disbelief turned quickly to near madness as the priest turned the spear-like serpent’s head downward and drove the creature into the great warrior’s exposed and defenseless nether regions where no man and no thing had been before.
A howl of rage and violation and agony was heard throughout the evil temple and the entire valley as HEM NETJER took final and total control over this magnificent Greek demi-god, raping the mighty Hercules with the serpent and with the magic of the true gods…and he had one final spell to cast before he left this magnificent creature to transform into the most potent source of power HEM NETJER had ever taken for his own purposes.
Speaking again to his gods, asking them to bless the venom of his servants, the evil priest spoke the final spell and watched his pets do their own magic.
Hercules, his mind numb and his senses totally out of control, did not know what was real and what was not anymore. Something like a great fist moved in his body and he groaned with a pleasure and a fear like nothing he’d ever know as that fist pressed into some part of his body that was directly connected to the head of his already monstrous cock. He watched in a daze of torment and sexual heat that was paralyzing as three serpent heads rose in unison above the parts of his manhood that were their captured prey. His eyes grew wide and as did his mouth, a silent scream of agony and pleasure and lust and terror was trapped in his body as four serpents plunged their fangs into all that made this demi-god a man. All sanity and all sense of who the great Hercules was sank into the deep, swirling mists of pain and pleasure.
HEM NETJER smiled on as his pets injected their venom into the already bulging and inflamed balls and cock head of the mighty Hercules and the fourth serpent added his venom to the already churning gland behind that manhood. The massive organ and balls swelled to new proportions before the priest’s very eyes, the essence of this awesome creature’s very manhood and godhood building and growing and filling him to bursting…at least the great Hercules would wish to burst before this spell was done. The evil priest marveled at the tremendous muscles of this being, even depleted as they were by dark magic, those great sinews writhed and bulged and pulled at the chains which bound him in his agony until the very metal creaked under the strain.
Part Six
After making his final preparations for the ceremony that would guarantee his ultimate power and victory, HEM NETJER returned to the dungeon and his prized bull who would now be ripe for his new master’s milking. He was surprised to see that the mighty Greek had literally torn one chain from the ceiling and one chain from the floor in his struggles before succumbing completely to the spell, his body hanging by a single leg, his free arm and leg twitching uselessly on the floor, his mind so delirious with sensation it could not comprehend that it was nearly free.
The priest spoke words to his pet serpents and they released their holds on the warrior’s body, all four slithering away into the shadows until needed again. He marveled at the bloated and swollen and rigid manhood on the mighty Hercules, the huge shaft still painfully throbbing with exquisite pain and arousal, the balls nearly the size of gourds so full of this demi-god’s essence were they. Trapped within the rings which were nearly invisible they were so deeply embedded in his swollen man-flesh, that massive shaft stood rock-hard and erect from his loins, every beat of his lion’s heart causing it to bulge and bounce uncontrollably.
“You would make a bull jealous with your magnificence, Hercules,” grinned HEM NETJER to himself.
Clapping his hands, three slaves entered the dungeon and lowered the mighty warrior completely to the floor, releasing his ankles from their chains. The priest had no fear of this demi-god, his mind so deeply lost in its turmoil of sensation. Attaching a chain to the ring of his massive cock’s head, the priest whispered more words of magic and the catatonic muscle-beast merely moaned.
“Stand, my powerful slave,” the priest commanded, pulling on the chained member, the mighty Hercules rising to his feet and standing before his new master his massive muscles quivering, his freakish manhood bulging, his engorged balls hanging heavily between his glistening thighs churning relentlessly with their fullness.
The three slaves placed a golden bar across the enthralled demi-god’s massive back. Raising his arms back and over the bar, they chained his limbs in place, Hercules completely unaware of what was being done to him.
The Egyptian priest then lead the son of Zeus through his temple by his very manhood, the Greek warrior following as docile as a lamb to slaughter, moaning occasionally as the pull on his cock stirred new sensations of arousal and pain in his already overwhelmed mind. All the enslaved young Greeks watched in helpless fascination, the sight of their hero being lead before them in such a manner powerful enough to stir some emotion in their enchanted minds that they could not comprehend through the dense cloud of magic.
More slaves attached the gold bar to chains, connecting the unknowing demi-god to the cart upon which sat the churning and bubble urn that was the source of HEM NETJER’s magic. Then, truly like the beast he had become, Hercules pulled the great urn through the temple being lead once more by his manhood and the chain in the dark priest’s hand. More emotions stirred through the slaves at the sight of the great Hercules being paraded in front of them in so humiliating a manner, the urn’s glow growing as the energy and the magic in the temple built and the essence of this magnificent Greek hero continued to built in his loins. The combination of evil magic and god-like power creating an ever mounting atmosphere of energy that all could feel. Even HEM NETJER could feel the intoxicating momentum of unbridled force building to a crescendo that would be his ultimate victory.
Positioning the great urn of power in the doorway of his mystical temple for all to see the final subjugation of the son of Zeus, HEM NETJER, drunk with power, gave his final orders. As all the slaves moved to the bottom of the steps outside the temple to witness the climax of their hero’s capture and total domination, the chains were removed from Hercules, the awesome Greek docile, lost in a world of evil magic and unfathomable arousal, and yet near-vibrating with a raw energy that radiated from the very core of his being.
The dark priest spoke to his gods and the mighty Hercules raised his arms as serpents of pure gold literally grew from the golden archway that was the entrance to this evil temple and coiled themselves tightly around the mighty forearms of the demi-god. Lost in the agony and ecstasy of his torment, Hercules never knew that his body was raised above the churning and bubbling urn of power; he never felt the golden serpents reach out from the temples doorway and coil about his ankles; he never knew his thighs of oak were drawn wide, finishing his presentation to HEM NETJER’s gods and all their servants below. Hercules, son of Zeus, never knew that his body was lowered until his massive balls and engorged manhood hung over the edge of the urn and that the mist began to encircle and caress him, stroking him, pushing him to a point that would send him into oblivion.
Hercules only knew, somehow deep down in his being, that the overwhelming agony of denial was impossibly beginning to grow. Through the deep darkness of overwhelming sensation, the mighty Hercules felt an evil and relentless pressure building that was pushing even his mind and body beyond their limits, over the edge of existence into an abyss that would swallow him whole and for eternity.
HEM NETJER, servant of the gods, stepped up behind the spellbound and helpless son of Zeus. As he spoke the final words of magic to his gods, repeating them over and over as he stroked the smooth round globes of bronze-colored man-meat that quivered and rippled at his touch, the evil priest’s own heavy shaft began to grow and harden. As the intensity of his voice and the power of his words grew, the hardness of his own spear and the lust of his madness grew tenfold. As he reach the point of frenzy, his hands squeezing and groping and bruising even the flesh of a demi-god, HEM NETJER bellowed out his rage and penetrated deeply into the demi-god that would make him immortal and the voice of Hercules bellowed out his own rage and release.
Hercules, son of Zeus, felt an explosion of unbelievable magnitude deep down in his body, dwarfing the eruption of any volcano, making the very heat of the sun itself seem chilled in comparison. With unimaginable release came more pain than any tortured soul in Hades could imagine. Mighty, magnificent muscles, imbued with the power of the gods, contorted into boulders of impenetrable hardness and pulled at his very limbs as if to tear them from his body. Fire spread through every sinew, every bone, every cell of his being, driving him beyond the brink madness. He endless agony, the unbelievable torment carried Hercules into the abyss and consumed his very soul. He let go completely and slipped into total and complete darkness Hercules feared even Zeus could not penetrate.
The priest spoke words to his pet serpents and they released their holds on the warrior’s body, all four slithering away into the shadows until needed again. He marveled at the bloated and swollen and rigid manhood on the mighty Hercules, the huge shaft still painfully throbbing with exquisite pain and arousal, the balls nearly the size of gourds so full of this demi-god’s essence were they. Trapped within the rings which were nearly invisible they were so deeply embedded in his swollen man-flesh, that massive shaft stood rock-hard and erect from his loins, every beat of his lion’s heart causing it to bulge and bounce uncontrollably.
“You would make a bull jealous with your magnificence, Hercules,” grinned HEM NETJER to himself.
Clapping his hands, three slaves entered the dungeon and lowered the mighty warrior completely to the floor, releasing his ankles from their chains. The priest had no fear of this demi-god, his mind so deeply lost in its turmoil of sensation. Attaching a chain to the ring of his massive cock’s head, the priest whispered more words of magic and the catatonic muscle-beast merely moaned.
“Stand, my powerful slave,” the priest commanded, pulling on the chained member, the mighty Hercules rising to his feet and standing before his new master his massive muscles quivering, his freakish manhood bulging, his engorged balls hanging heavily between his glistening thighs churning relentlessly with their fullness.
The three slaves placed a golden bar across the enthralled demi-god’s massive back. Raising his arms back and over the bar, they chained his limbs in place, Hercules completely unaware of what was being done to him.
The Egyptian priest then lead the son of Zeus through his temple by his very manhood, the Greek warrior following as docile as a lamb to slaughter, moaning occasionally as the pull on his cock stirred new sensations of arousal and pain in his already overwhelmed mind. All the enslaved young Greeks watched in helpless fascination, the sight of their hero being lead before them in such a manner powerful enough to stir some emotion in their enchanted minds that they could not comprehend through the dense cloud of magic.
More slaves attached the gold bar to chains, connecting the unknowing demi-god to the cart upon which sat the churning and bubble urn that was the source of HEM NETJER’s magic. Then, truly like the beast he had become, Hercules pulled the great urn through the temple being lead once more by his manhood and the chain in the dark priest’s hand. More emotions stirred through the slaves at the sight of the great Hercules being paraded in front of them in so humiliating a manner, the urn’s glow growing as the energy and the magic in the temple built and the essence of this magnificent Greek hero continued to built in his loins. The combination of evil magic and god-like power creating an ever mounting atmosphere of energy that all could feel. Even HEM NETJER could feel the intoxicating momentum of unbridled force building to a crescendo that would be his ultimate victory.
Positioning the great urn of power in the doorway of his mystical temple for all to see the final subjugation of the son of Zeus, HEM NETJER, drunk with power, gave his final orders. As all the slaves moved to the bottom of the steps outside the temple to witness the climax of their hero’s capture and total domination, the chains were removed from Hercules, the awesome Greek docile, lost in a world of evil magic and unfathomable arousal, and yet near-vibrating with a raw energy that radiated from the very core of his being.
The dark priest spoke to his gods and the mighty Hercules raised his arms as serpents of pure gold literally grew from the golden archway that was the entrance to this evil temple and coiled themselves tightly around the mighty forearms of the demi-god. Lost in the agony and ecstasy of his torment, Hercules never knew that his body was raised above the churning and bubbling urn of power; he never felt the golden serpents reach out from the temples doorway and coil about his ankles; he never knew his thighs of oak were drawn wide, finishing his presentation to HEM NETJER’s gods and all their servants below. Hercules, son of Zeus, never knew that his body was lowered until his massive balls and engorged manhood hung over the edge of the urn and that the mist began to encircle and caress him, stroking him, pushing him to a point that would send him into oblivion.
Hercules only knew, somehow deep down in his being, that the overwhelming agony of denial was impossibly beginning to grow. Through the deep darkness of overwhelming sensation, the mighty Hercules felt an evil and relentless pressure building that was pushing even his mind and body beyond their limits, over the edge of existence into an abyss that would swallow him whole and for eternity.
HEM NETJER, servant of the gods, stepped up behind the spellbound and helpless son of Zeus. As he spoke the final words of magic to his gods, repeating them over and over as he stroked the smooth round globes of bronze-colored man-meat that quivered and rippled at his touch, the evil priest’s own heavy shaft began to grow and harden. As the intensity of his voice and the power of his words grew, the hardness of his own spear and the lust of his madness grew tenfold. As he reach the point of frenzy, his hands squeezing and groping and bruising even the flesh of a demi-god, HEM NETJER bellowed out his rage and penetrated deeply into the demi-god that would make him immortal and the voice of Hercules bellowed out his own rage and release.
Hercules, son of Zeus, felt an explosion of unbelievable magnitude deep down in his body, dwarfing the eruption of any volcano, making the very heat of the sun itself seem chilled in comparison. With unimaginable release came more pain than any tortured soul in Hades could imagine. Mighty, magnificent muscles, imbued with the power of the gods, contorted into boulders of impenetrable hardness and pulled at his very limbs as if to tear them from his body. Fire spread through every sinew, every bone, every cell of his being, driving him beyond the brink madness. He endless agony, the unbelievable torment carried Hercules into the abyss and consumed his very soul. He let go completely and slipped into total and complete darkness Hercules feared even Zeus could not penetrate.
************************************************
In the darkness, a speck of light drew to it what consciousness that had been the mighty Hercules, son of Zeus, was left. There was no thought. There was no emotion. There was no memory. There was only being…existence…and the light grew brighter.
“Come my son,” a deep voice resonated in the being that floated in the dark and that being instinctively moved forward. “Follow my voice, Hercules. Follow the light. You are not done, yet.”
The light brightened and the consciousness began to take on form and understanding. The journey was far but the end was within reach.
************************************************
“So you remember nothing?” young Prince Iphytus asked, smiling down at his hero sprawled in the grass next to the river, their powerful and naked bodies glistening in the sun from their swim. “Even after so many days?”
“I’ve told you, Iphytus,” answered Hercules. “The last I remember is a blurred image of you stepping through a passage guarded by great stone serpents and feeling a great anger at what this so-called priest had done to you. Now…after all this time, why don’t you tell me what you remember? No one will tell me what happened after that, what happened to the priest, what happened to the temple, or how I came to wake up here, back in your father’s city.”
A slight cloud came over the face of the young prince but then he looked into the eyes of his hero, knowing he must tell part of the story or the demi-god would never be satisfied.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what I remember. The priest’s spell over the strongest of us began to weaken as he became so focused on you, my friend. Your strength of will and your father’s blood must have presented a challenge to HEM NETJER’s magic the likes of which he’d never encountered before.”
“Go on,” Hercules prodded.
“From what I can piece together from my memories, you were central to his final spell but something went wrong. You were bound over this great urn which seemed to be the source of his power. He spoke his dark words and then…”
“And then?”
“…and then all madness broke loose. You…you reacted much more powerfully than the priest expected, your body…well, your body began to spasm and contort wildly. In your fit for lack of a better word you smashed the urn to pieces and it’s contents evaporated breaking the spell over us all. The next thing I knew you had literally pulled the temple down. In his arrogance, the priest had all his slaves outside below the great platform to witness what he had planned for you so none of us was injured in the destruction.”
“But what of the priest, Iphytus? What happened to him? Do I need to concern myself with him coming back for vengeance on your father or you?”
A strange smile came over the prince’s face at that as the memory of HEM NETJER rolling on the ground bleeding to death, castrated cleanly by the sheer power of muscles the great Hercules has probably never called into play before in his many adventures. But Hercules would never know of the humiliation the dark priest had inflicted upon him and Iphytus looked over at his companion smiling.
“HEM NETJER will never darken our land again, Hercules. When you destroyed his urn, you destroyed his power and his protection. The temple collapsing crushed him to death and we burned his body right then and there. HEM NETJER, servant of the gods, serves his gods in Hades, now.”
Then an even stranger smile came to the face of Prince Iphytus as he looked down the body of the most powerful, most muscular, most handsome being on the planet.
“What?” Hercules asked, wondering at the gleam in his friend’s eye.
“Oh, nothing,” Iphytus, smiled, reaching out to grasp the large ring piercing the stallion’s cock on this mighty warrior and tugging it gently. “I was just admiring this piece of jewelry,” he grinned as the huge shaft grew hard and throbbing and as rigid as a tree in an instant as he knew it would…and the mighty Hercules moaned in helpless arousal, his mighty sinews suddenly feeling heavy and helpless.
“What are you doing to me?” groaned Hercules, lust clouding his mind and draining his body of strength.
“Something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time, my massively muscled friend.”
I remember there are a few fantastic installation by afterdark for this story on chainedmuscle site.Do you still keep it?Could you please upload it.Thanks a lot.
ReplyDeleteHi there supercan, and thanks so much for your comment! Unfortunately, no, I'm not aware of any illustrations that accompanied this original story. I've never been a member of the chainedmuscle.com website, so it's likely I found this story floating somewhere else, but without the illustrations. I'd love to see them if you can find them, though!
DeleteI have to admit, i WAS a bit shocked by the "bluntness" of some of the coarse language, but I did enjoy this tail. Thanks for that.
ReplyDeleteI wish that I could have been in Prince Iphytus' place at the end of the tale.
ReplyDeleteYou and me both!! :)
Delete