Hercules and the Temple of Torture - Part 3

Hercules and the Temple of Torture - Part 3

Based on an original story by dbeverly

Part Six – Climax

The priest left Hercules in the dungeon for several days as the serpents worked their tender mercies on the captive warrior, injecting his genitals again and again with their potent venom and causing his cock and balls to continue swelling to ever more grotesque dimensions. In the meantime, Hem Netjer made his final preparations for the ceremony that would guarantee his ultimate power and victory. 

Hem Netjer returned to the dungeon several days later, wanting to check in on his prized bull, who would now be ripe for his new master’s milking. The sight that met him stunned him into speechlessness. 

The mighty Greek had succeeded in tearing one massive iron chain from the ceiling and another from the floor in his titanic struggles before succumbing completely to the serpents’ venom. His spectacular, enormously muscular body hung by a single, massive 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 mighty warrior’s mammoth muscles twitched only slightly as the multiple serpents reared back and sunk their fangs into his captive meat for the thousandth time, once again crushing his manhood in their powerful jaws as they injected yet another batch of venom into the depth of his man meat. 

The monstrous genitals of the captive muscle hero were now so bloated and distended that they didn’t resemble anything even remotely human. The mighty cock of Hercules was now a tower of man flesh more than two feet long and nearly as thick as a man’s leg. The sheer weight and mass of the mighty phallus must have been phenomenal, yet the mighty sinews and muscles connecting that most magnificent of cocks to his body held that monster member proudly upright, defying gravity. The bloated and distended head at the end of that colossal shaft was so dark with engorged blood that it was almost purple, and it too had swollen to even greater dimensions and was now as big as a ripe melon. 

The mighty balls of Hercules had not gone unchanged, either, and had bloated and swelled to truly obscene size. His massive balls were now the size of extra-large gourds, so full of the demigod’s powerful male essence that they looked ready to burst at any moment. And in truth, they were on the razor’s edge of bursting asunder with the titanic store of sperm trapped inside of them. The gargantuan gonads were still stretched to their absolute limit, pulled to more than a foot from their straining crotch, and yet somehow they had endured, churning out ever greater quantities of his rich and thick spunk and increasing the already terrific pressures inside those glorious man orbs. 

The priest knew that if he waited much longer, he risked losing this ultimate paragon of man, for even the mighty bull balls of Hercules could only take so much strain and abuse. Truth be told, they had grown far larger than even Hem Netjer had thought possible. Even now, the mighty, massive orbs trembled with the early rumblings of their impending demise, threatening at almost any moment to rupture and spectacularly explode, painting all four walls of the dungeon with gallons of wasted sperm and chunks of ruined ball meat. The priest realized he couldn’t let that happen, and that he needed to begin his final spell right away. 

The priest spoke words to his pet serpents and they slowly recoiled and released their holds on the warrior’s immense, muscular body, all four slithering away into the shadows until needed again. Now that the full length of the young man’s mighty mule dick was revealed, Hem Netjer marveled at the bloated and swollen and rigid state of the frightfully engorged manhood. The huge shaft was visibly throbbing with exquisite pain and arousal, trapped within the rings that were now nearly invisible for they were so deeply embedded in his swollen man flesh. The massive shaft stood rock-hard and erect from his loins, every beat of his lion’s heart causing it to bulge and bounce uncontrollably. 

The priest more than half expected Hercules’ gargantuan balls to be permanently stretched by the ordeal, after being forcefully and brutally stretched more than a foot from his body for more than three full days. But to Hem Netjer’s impressed surprise, the big man’s mighty nuts contracted with the removal of each serpent coil until they were once again snug and tight at the end of the 6-inch steel coil. Their color also immediately improved, for they were no longer straining at the very end of their fleshy tethers, but they were still clearly heroically bloated with sperm and nearing a critical mass. 

Hem Netjer couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gloriously masculine and erotic sight of the half-bound warrior, and finally whispered to himself in awe, “You would make the greatest stud bull jealous with your magnificence, Hercules.”  

The priest clapped his hands, and three muscular and handsome Greek slaves entered the dungeon and lowered the mighty warrior completely to the floor, releasing his ankle from the single remaining chain. The priest no longer had any fear of this demigod, for his mind was so deeply lost in its turmoil of sensation that he was no longer even aware of his surroundings. The priest attached a chain to the ring piercing the muscle man’s massive cock head, and whispered more words of magic in the ear of the mighty Hercules. The catatonic muscle-beast merely moaned in response, but showed no other signs of comprehension.

“Stand, my powerful slave,” the priest commanded, savagely pulling on the chained member. Despite the force of his yank, the priest was surprised and impressed that the monstrously engorged organ barely gave an inch, remaining proudly and defiantly vertical. 

The mighty Hercules lumbered to his feet and stood before his new master, his massive muscles quivering, his freakishly bloated manhood bulging and flexing, his engorged balls hanging heavily and huge between his glistening, muscular thighs, churning relentlessly with their excessive fullness.

The three slaves placed a thick golden bar across the enthralled demigod’s massive back. They raised his enormous arms back and over the bar and chained his limbs in place, and all the while Hercules was completely unaware of what was being done to him. 

The Egyptian priest then led 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 led 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. But nearly all of the young men instantly grew rock hard at the intensely erotic and masculine sight of the massive chained hero and his gargantuan cock and balls. 

More slaves stepped forward to attach the gold bar to a set of chains, and connecting the unknowing demigod to the cart upon which sat the churning and bubbling urn that was the source of Hem Netjer’s magic, more than half filled with the countless loads of sperm stolen from the thousands of Greek slaves. 

Then, truly like the beast of burden he had become, Hercules pulled the great cart and urn through the temple, being led 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 as the essence of this magnificent Greek hero continued to build in his expanding loins. The combination of evil magic and god-like power was creating an ever mounting atmosphere of energy that all could feel. Hem Netjer could feel the intoxicating momentum of unbridled force building to a crescendo that would culminate in his ultimate victory over all the lands and peoples of Greece.

The evil priest positioned the great urn of power in the doorway of his mystical temple so that all his captive slaves could see the final subjugation and humiliation 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 various chains and golden yoke were removed from the mighty Hercules. The awesome Greek warrior was completely docile, lost in a world of evil magic and unfathomable arousal, and 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 obediently raised his massively muscular arms as serpents of pure gold literally grew from the golden archway and coiled themselves tightly around the mighty forearms of the demigod. Lost in the agony and ecstasy of his torment, Hercules was unaware that his body was raised above the churning and bubbling urn of power; he never felt the additional pair of golden serpents reach out from the temple’s doorway and coil about his ankles; he never knew his thighs of oak were drawn wide, finishing the presentation of his glorious, muscular form to Hem Netger’s gods and all the servants below. 

Hercules was positioned over the bubbling, churning urn and then slowly lowered until his massive balls and engorged manhood hung over the edge of the huge cauldron, positioned perhaps a foot over the bubbling, gloopy contents. The mists grew and rose and coiled about Hercules’ massive form like a lover, encircling and caressing him, stroking him, pushing him closer and closer to a point that would send him into oblivion.

The priest drew the chain still connected to the cock ring imbedded in the swollen head of Hercules’ monstrous cock, and connected the other end of the chain to a large winch on the opposite side of the cauldron. A team of a dozen heavily muscled Greek slaves manned the winch and began to turn the huge crank. The fulcrum of the winch and the strength of a dozen men began to succeed where the priest had not, and the warrior’s mighty cock began to be drawn downward toward the cauldron. 

The humongous penis began to lower at first like a stiff lever, dropping from nearly vertical to an approximately 45 degree angle. From there, however, the rigid and obscenely bloated member put up greater resistance, and the dozen slaves had to strain with all of their might for any further gains. Hercules’ giant cock slowly continued to ratchet downward, but now the movement wasn’t coming from the base of his nighty truncheon, but along the very shaft itself. The mighty shaft began to bend, and a profound downward curve began to appear. 

Hercules bellowed in renewed agony at this latest torture being visited upon his manhood. His cries were so profound that they echoed across the valley like the rumble of thunder. Even Hem Netjer flinched in sympathetic pain at the sound of the warrior’s agonized cries. 

The mighty fuck stick continued to resist the efforts of the dozen slaves, and the mighty cock finally fought the slaves and their winch to a standstill. The priest was still not satisfied, and at an unspoken command, another dozen massively muscled men stepped forward to add their efforts to the task. 

The two dozen slaves grunted and pushed with all of their might, and at first nothing happened. But then, slowly, the champion’s turgid member continued its slow descent, bending even more dramatically. So profound was the curve in Hercules’ cock that it appeared in jeopardy of snapping in half, but still the cranking continued. 

Finally, when the gaping slit at the end of Hercules’ massive cock was pointed downward into the center of the cauldron, Hem Netjer commanded the slaves to cease and to lock the winch in place, securing the warrior’s cock in its tortured position. 

All was now in readiness. 

Hercules 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 incredibly powerful body beyond their limits, over the edge of existence into an abyss that would swallow him whole and for all eternity.

Hem Netjer, powerful servant of powerful gods, stepped up behind the spellbound and helpless son of Zeus. 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 muscle that quivered and rippled at his touch, the evil priest’s own heavy shaft beginning to grow and harden. The intensity of his voice and the power of his words grew, and 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 demigod, Hem Netjer bellowed out his rage and triumph as he penetrated deeply into massive, muscular ass of the achingly beautiful demigod, releasing the spell that would make him immortal. Simultaneously, the mighty, booming voice of Hercules bellowed out his own rage and ultimate release.

Hercules, mighty 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 a total and complete darkness that Hercules feared even Zeus could not penetrate.

************************************************

In the darkness, a speck of light drew to it the consciousness that had been the mighty Hercules. 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. Your time has not ended, for there is still much work to be done.”

The light brightened and the consciousness began to take on form and understanding. The journey was far but the end was within reach.

************************************************

Part Seven – Conclusion

“So you remember nothing?” young Prince Iphytus asked, smiling down at the colossal and naked form of the mighty hero sprawled in the grass next to the river. Their powerful and naked bodies glistened in the sun from their recent rejuvenating swim. “Even after so many days?”

“I’ve told you, Iphytus,” rumbled 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 great hero, knowing he must tell the story or the demigod would never be satisfied.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what I remember. The priest’s spell over the strongest of us must have begun to weaken as he became so focused on you. 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 a great urn filled with the stolen seed of countless Greek men, and this great cauldron 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. Your genitals, swollen to dimensions before undreamed of, began to jettison the most gargantuan load in the history of man, pumping great gouts of your male essence into the cauldron and increasing the priest’s powers with every blast and bolt of seed. You were literally pumping gallons of the stuff into the urn, and despite its great size, it was clear that you would have no problem filling the great vessel to the rim.” 

“The wicked and cruel priest, in the meantime, was riding you like a beast, plowing your insides with his own rampant cock, and it was clear that he was nearing his own climax and release. I believe that his own orgasm would have completed the spell, and sealed your doom and the doom of all Greece.” 

“But just before the priest could achieve his own release, your powerfully contorting thigh muscles caused the magical chains binding you to groan and stretch, allowing you to clench the great urn between your massive, columnar legs. With a final bellow of ultimate release, your legs jerked closed with such force that the great cauldron shattered in two. The untold gallons of bubbling sperm within the urn were suddenly released to spill in a great white waterfall down the temple steps, gushing like a great gloopy river.” 

“Hem Netjer screamed in rage, terror, and agony, stumbling back from your bound form as his spell was instantly ruined. It was then that I saw a terrible wound at the priest’s groin. The sheer power of your awesome muscles had cleanly castrated the wicked priest, your phenomenal ass clenching down so hard at the moment of your ultimate release that you pinched off Hem Netjer’s invading cock and crushed his balls to paste.” 

“The priest’s eyes were wide in shock and terror, and his hands flew to his groin in an effort to staunch the tremendous flow of blood. No doubt he would have quickly perished of shock and blood loss, had you not sped things along.” 

“With another mighty bellow, you pulled against your restrains with all of your awesome might, and the very temple walls themselves began to shudder and crack. Hem Netjer continued to stumble backward into his temple, clearly mortally terrified of his former prisoner. A tremendous crack could be heard, almost like a thunder clap, and you tore the supporting entry columns free from their bases. Hem Netjer looked up and had time to let out one final blood-curdling scream before the temple ceiling crashed on top of him, instantly slaying him and burying him under untold tons of rubble.” 

“Fortunately, in the priest’s arrogance and desire to humiliate and subjugate you in the most public fashion, he had ordered all of his slaves outside the temple and below the great platform to witness his ultimate conquest, and so none of us was injured in the final destruction.” 

Iphytus looked over at his incredibly handsome companion and smiled.

“Due to your tremendous bravery, strength, and sheer virility, Hercules, Hem Netjer and his evil gods will never darken our land again. When you destroyed his urn, you destroyed his power and his protection. The temple collapsing crushed him to death, and we later excavated into the temple ruins, recovered his shattered body, and burned it right then and there and scattered the ashes. 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 at the spectacular body of the most powerful, most muscular, most virile, 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 golden ring piercing the stallion’s cock 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, just as he knew it would. 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 very long time, my massively muscled friend.”

Hercules and the Temple of Torture - Part 2

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Hercules and the Temple of Torture - Part 1

Here's the first installment of a 3-part series featuring one of the hottest heroes of all time -- the mighty Hercules! :D

Hercules and the Temple of Torture - Part 1

Based on an original story by dbeverly

Part One – A Crisis Brews

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 young man in the land, 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 demigod 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’ massive and 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 quickly 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, as he smelled a cloying scent on the air, he too felt a peculiar pull toward the temple. 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. 

Hercules could immediately see from the young men's dazed expressions that they were under some wicked spell. The trance-like state of these men, and his own troubled senses, were signs to the mighty muscle man to move with care as the priest’s magic was obviously strong. The powerful demigod 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 – Hercules Enters the Valley

Hem Netjer had cast another spell over the surrounding countryside, calling yet 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 limitless ambition had been the priest’s 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 unusually 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 moved against him.

Moving to a window at the highest point of his temple, the priest peered 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. The powerful servant of the gods immediately knew that this man was not pulled by the mist but instead followed 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 obviously did. The priest did not need the long golden tube fitted with pieces of special glass to see that this near-naked creature was a giant among men, easily a head taller and vastly 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 well, though never so strongly as that which this gigantic creature stirred. Fear, however, he was unaccustomed to and its presence inflamed his anger to even greater levels. 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 was the only prey worth risking everything for in this temple, and he began making plans to trap this Greek foe, this god in human form who was striding so 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 nearly three times 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 proud stride. 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 glorious 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 blue eyes that were fixed so boldly on the Egyptian’s temple, and his smooth skin accentuated by several day's-worth of dark stubble, 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 – Discovery

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, slipped away from his spellbound companions and followed the wall that was the dark temple’s base. Several yards away from the gate, the demigod 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 farther on 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 he began climbing. Hercules used his phenomenal strength to quickly reach the top of the wall, and he saw that the wall was actually the 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 he was on his guard for a trap, Hercules began to climb, never imaging just what kind of trap into which he was stepping.

Muscle forged by the gods made light work of the climb up the strong vines, and 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 hundreds of young muscular 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 these duties of their own choice.

“What power must this dark priest have to enslave so many men and call even more into his service?” the demigod 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 would have been handsome if not for his sinister 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. The urn resembled the cauldron of the three blind witches of lore and was obviously the source of the glowing mist that saturated the valley and called to its young Greek men, for the strange glowing fog poured out of the urn in continuous waves, pouring out another set of windows and into the valley below. 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 of the urn were a thick, milky, and eerily iridescent white, and the mist was released into the air above with the bursting of each new bubble that came to the surface. 

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 demigod 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 an 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 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 demigod tore the vine from his wrist, only to immediately have it replaced by half a dozen larger ones. Even as he tore free from these new vines, dozens more encircled his free wrist and his other ankle and pulled his mighty limbs wide. Within seconds, all four of his limbs were encased in hundreds of vines, which lifted the massive muscle giant into the air as if he weighed nothing, rendering Hercules bound and helpless. 

Hercules was stunned by the sudden turn of events, and he could not get any traction to pull at the vines and free himself. Every time he tugged one of his limbs, the vines gave enough so that they wouldn't tear, but they held fast and kept the huge man trapped. Hercules' awesome strength was rendered useless. 

The vines lifted Hercules higher into the air, and then brought him through the large open 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 immediately pull his limbs back into a widespread and vulnerable position. The more he struggled, the harder he breathed, 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 at 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 100 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, for the sight of this near-naked giant under his power had somehow pierced the veil of young Iphytus’ 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 any way, 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 spectacularly against the possessed vines, and the demigod 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 the handsome young man’s 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.

Starfleet Academy

I've gone into my vaults and pulled out one of my earliest story rewrites...

Starfleet Academy

Based on an original story by an unknown author

********

Craig was in a training simulation when it happened. Two teams of Starfleet cadets were conducting a simulated attack on each other. Everyone had their phasers set on a light stun setting -- not enough to make knock someone unconscious unless it was a headshot, but enough to cause real pain. Of course, the cadets were supposed to have their weapons deactivated and allow the computer to record hits, but they were in a rowdy mood, so they decided to up the stakes a little. Besides, phaser hits on this level were painful, but altogether harmless. 

Craig’s team had been very successful so far. The battle was taking place in wooded terrain, and Craig was moving elegantly in and out of hiding, his lithe, muscular form moving effortlessly through the underbrush with a grace that belied his massive size. Craig was one of the finest, most promising cadets the Academy had ever seen. And at 21 years old, 6’2” in height, and a massive 350 pounds of pure Grade-AAA choice Academy beef, he was also one of the most enormously built young men ever to pass through the Academy’s training program. 

The enormously beefy cadet had the face of an all-American super hero to match his extraordinarily muscular body. He had a very square jaw, powerful chin, high cheekbones, full lips, and stunning blue eyes framed by close cropped thick blond hair. Craig was breathtakingly handsome, and was pursued by men and women, human and non-human, alike. 

But this stud’s beauty certainly didn’t end with his face, for Craig had the body of an Adonis. From his thick neck flared two of the widest shoulders imaginable, each the size of cannon balls, from which extended two of the most powerful arms in the Federation. Each of Craig’s massive arms measured in at over 26 ½ inches, some of the largest arms ever developed on a man. Craig’s chest was legendary, two mighty plates of wide, square muscle of eye-popping thickness and density, topped by two large, succulent nipples. The stud’s back was just as muscular and powerful as his front, his tremendous lats all but blocking out the sun. This spectacular upper body tapered majestically down to an equally incredibly narrow and tight waist. The stud’s waist measured no more than 32 inches, making it only slightly larger than his enormous arms, and was corrugated with rippling, tightly packed muscle. Craig’s awesome legs were a perfect match for his upper body, with thighs like tree trunks and calves like bowling balls, all extending from an ass that was mouthwateringly beautiful, two tight, firm globes of perfectly molded muscle. 

And to top it all off, Craig had one of the largest sexual endowments to grace a human being, a set of genitals so large that the other men in the Academy showers couldn’t help but stare. 

Craig’s extraordinary gifts weren’t just limited to the physical, for he was also an extremely intelligent young man. He excelled in all of his studies, particularly in engineering, diplomacy, and languages, and his greatest dilemma was going to be deciding where to focus his efforts in his Federation career. One thing was certain - Craig was expected to rise high among the Federation ranks, regardless of the career path he eventually chose. 

Such an extraordinarily gifted young man would normally have engendered a tremendous amount of jealousy and envy among his fellows, but Craig was also gifted with a great deal of charisma and charm. The handsome young cadet was known for being an all-around nice guy, and he had charmed and won over every cadet and instructor at the Academy. Well, almost every cadet...

The handsome young stud now put his incredible body to good work, leaping through the trees and undergrowth like a stag, and had already eliminated several members of the opposing team. He was doing exceptionally well in this particular training exercise. But then he made the mistake of approaching a large tree dead on, unaware that there was a person behind it.

The first shot hit him in the upper abdomen – close to vital organs – so the stun effect was rather large. His beautiful blue eyes became dim and he experienced the feeling that he had just gotten up too fast. Craig was still standing, but was temporarily stunned and unable to react. His attacker then took complete advantage of this situation. 

The next shot woke Craig up in a hurry, for it was right to his tightly packed crotch. What’s more, the assailant had obviously turned the phaser power level up several notches, delivering a terrific pain to Craig’s huge genitals. It was a bad situation for him -- he could barely move at all because of the previous stun, and he was now having a powerful phaser beam mercilessly pound away at his defenseless nuts. 

A look of extreme agony and shock was on Craig’s handsome face, and his hidden attacker kept his thumb on the button and the phaser beam, continuing to assault Craig’s balls for a seeming eternity. His tight black Starfleet pants were meant to be inflammable, but steam began rising from the area where his bulge was showing through. Craig was moaning, but the stun effects prevented him from crying out in pain or for help. Tears welled in his beautiful blue eyes. His powerfully muscled body crumpled up at the waist, but his attacker still found the angle to shoot him between the legs. Starfleet training was hard, but this was by far the most intense pain young Craig had ever felt. 

Finally, as Craig began to show signs of falling forward, the beam ceased. The attacker did not want to risk hitting Craig in the head, so he finally ceased his phaser assault. As Craig fell forward to his knees, and then over on the ground to his side, he could hear his assailant scurry away in the woods. Warm steam was blowing towards his face, and he knew from the feeling in his crotch that more than just his uniform had been burnt. The burn pain was insignificant, however, to the intensity of the beam that had assaulted his huge ‘nads. Craig cupped his battered balls with his hands, but could only let out a little moan. He was barely even functioning; all he could feel were his burned and wounded nuts. 

Finally, the rest of his team discovered him. It was quite a sight. The muscular golden  boy Craig was lying in the mud in his tight black uniform, desperately holding his crotch as steam was still rising through his fingers. A look of total agony was etched on his face. And of course, being the upstanding cadets that they were, his team all broke out in laughter, making the usual derogatory and taunting comments. Craig was totally humiliated.

Craig quickly recovered physically from the incident, but he never determined who was responsible. He wasn’t even entirely sure that it was a member of the opposing team who had so cruelly shot him in the nuts, but he didn’t want to think about members of his own team betraying him like that, not even for a painful prank. After a while, he just forgot about the incident, although he became notorious at the Academy for his “hot roast nuts” and he had to endure several taunting nicknames. He showed good humor at all the ribbing, and actually came to enjoy the attention that was paid to his massive genitals. The incident certainly hadn’t hurt his interactions with the ladies - or with the men - so in the end he decided that there was no real harm done. 

Then one evening, several weeks later, Craig was doing some reading while alone in his room. Deciding to get comfortable, he wore only a pair of black, shiny silk bikini briefs as he was lying in bed, the thin material barely able to contain his prodigious endowment. Craig knew he was a stud boy, and enjoyed looking at himself in skimpy clothing … which was part of the reason why he ended up jerking off at least a few times every day. As he turned a page, his doorbell chimed. Contemplating his near-naked state, Craig asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Dylan.”

“Come in.” Dylan was a good friend of his, and so Craig didn’t particularly care about being nearly nude in from of him. 

“Hey hot nuts.” Dylan had been on Craig’s team, and witnessed the after effects of the phasering of his friend’s huge nuts. Dylan was a handsome guy as well -- black hair, blue-green eyes, and an impressive musculature -- and the two men were known to frequently hang out as pals. Dylan dropped something by the door as he came in the room, but Craig couldn’t see what it was. 

“Shut up,” Craig said with a smile, more than used to the teasing at this point.

“Get up for a second, there is something I want to show you,” Dylan said mischievously. Craig got up, and Dylan noticed how Craig’s massive package bulged obscenely in his skimpy underwear, giving Dylan an almost instant erection. 

“What is it, Dylan?”

Dylan smiled wickedly and moved towards Craig, who was now standing near his bed. “I just wanted to tell you that it was me who shot you in the nuts with my phaser.” Before he was even finished, Dylan brought his knee up violently into Craig’s easily identifiable sack. Craig looked totally shocked, but it was difficult to tell if it was by the news or by the pain exploding in his balls. Probably both. 

Craig made faint, moaning sounds as he looked down at his bikini underwear. He started to grasp himself, but Dylan forced his massively muscled arms out of the way and kneed him again, even harder. This time, Craig fell back onto his bed. Only his back was on the bed, however, and his legs slumped down to the floor and spread out. He was starting to slide all of the way down … but Dylan wasn’t going to let that happen just yet.

“You see,” Dylan explained to the moaning and temporarily paralyzed young muscle man, “I’ve always wanted to do this to you, Stud Boy. I’ve wanted to bust those bull balls of yours for a long, long time” With that, Dylan delivered a massive kick right between Craig’s sliding legs. The mighty kick connected with such force that it moved the big cadet back up on the bed, and Craig cried out feebly, feeling as if his balls had been destroyed. He couldn’t breathe from the intensity of the pain, and his vision became blurred from tears. 

“It’s OK. Don’t worry. There is more to come.” Dylan grabbed Craig’s heavy, limp body and placed him properly on the bed. Craig could only cough and gasp. “Let’s get these off of you,” Dylan said, indicating Craig’s skimpy underwear. From the way he handled them, Craig thought maybe Dylan had been talking about his balls … Dylan fiercely grabbed at Craig’s huge gonads as he pulled off the underwear, nearly pulling some other things off too. 

With the underwear off, Craig’s genitals were displayed in all their awesome glory. Craig’s heroic cock was almost like a third leg, hanging heavy and thick and stretching halfway down his muscular thigh. His balls were truly colossal, each weighty orb the size of a large fist, and so dense and heavy that they hung over four full inches from the base of his enormous horse cock. 

Craig just barely managed to say in his deep baritone voice, “Stop! Oh God, please, Dylan! Stop!” His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with his friend. Then he went into another coughing fit as the pain in his crotch reminded him that he couldn’t talk. 

“It is almost over. Just one more thing …” With that, Dylan moved back near the door to the room, where he had dropped the object he had entered with. “Do you know what this is?” he asked as he activated the device. “It is a Ferengi phaser whip. It fires high-energy plasma discharges at a target. It normally just stuns the victim a bit, but if I were to make direct contact on your body with this whip, the effects would be somewhat more … painful. ”

Craig watched in horror as Dylan flung the whip about a bit. It was producing a green-colored energy field, and appeared to be highly powerful. It looked much like an actual whip, accept for the phased energy it was producing. Dylan approached Craig on the bed. Craig’s crotch was already badly traumatized, and it froze the rest of his body in agony. As Dylan swung the whip at him, Craig gathered what was left of his strength and tried to roll a bit to one side …

WHACK!!!

No luck. Dylan simply changed the angle of the whip’s assault and landed a powerful shot directly on Craig’s exposed genitals. All of the energy of the powerful weapon was completely directed at those two huge orbs that made Craig a man, and he felt as if his giant gonads had exploded from the blow. His hips bucked and he began to spasm wildly. 

WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!!

Dylan struck again, and again, and again, high energy and force all directed at Craig’s awesome manhood, his gargantuan balls swinging and bouncing wildly with each devastating blow. Dylan watched in awe as Craig’s horse cock began to grow larger, swelling to greater and greater dimensions despite (or perhaps because of) the terrible agony in his colossal bull balls. In very little time, the stud’s huge cock had grown to its full, eye-popping 13+ inches, the thick shaft throbbing majestically, and with a constant stream of thick precum oozing from the apple-sized head. Dylan cranked up the whip to full power, and began to lay into Craig with greater intensity, truly battering the young cadet’s already brutalized nuts. 

WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! 

WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!!

WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!!

Dylan couldn’t believe that any man’s nuts could survive such brutal treatment, but Craig’s monstrous bull balls not only endured, they began to build what would be sure to be a massive, earth shattering load. Just when it was clear that Craig was about to cum, Dylan wrapped the whip around the aching nuts and pulled with all his might. Craig bellowed in pain, not just from the pulling that threatened to rip his mighty nuts clean from his body, but also from the unbelievable bolts of energy coursing from the Ferengi phaser whip into his massive, screaming orbs. Craig felt like his balls would burst from all the energy flowing through them, and in truth they were very close to doing just that. Dylan pulled harder and harder still, and managed to yank the huge nuts to over eight fantastic inches from his crotch, where they quivered on the edge of ripping from his body. 

Finally, the moment came. Craig’s monster cock grew another inch, shuddered, and began throbbing with incredible force, threatening to finish the job of ripping his own nuts off. The cock shaft was so long that it took a couple of throbs before the stud began to shoot. And shoot he did. Where other men cum in ribbons and spurts, Craig came in ropes and blasts, huge thick wads of white hot spunk rocketing out of his thundering prick and blasting across the room. The hyper masculine stud began to white wash the walls with his own cum, quickly drenching himself and Dylan in the process. His genitals  were no longer under the control of his own nervous system, but were now commanded by the phaser whip. He came in countless long ropes, surpassing all bounds of human ability, until finally, several minutes later, the titanic orgasm ebbed to a slow dribble, and the final dregs of his gargantuan load burped out of his still rock-solid cock. 

When Craig’s load finally ended, Dylan kicked with all his might into the still whip-bound balls, all but turning the gigantic orbs into a jellied pulpy mass of broken ball flesh. Another huge blast of cum was forced from his pulsing cock, landing squarely on the headboard behind Craig where it mingled with dozens of similar shots and slowly oozed down the smooth surface. The brutal pain finally knocked the young stud cadet unconscious, and his hips bucked so violently that he fell off of the bed onto the cum-soaked floor. 

Dylan looked down at Craig’s limp body, and in particular at his beautiful muscular ass. He turned off the phaser whip. Dylan himself was very well endowed, though nowhere near as spectacularly as Craig, and his huge organ was bulging through his tight cadet pants. 

He couldn’t resist. He whipped out his own big cock and masturbated all over Craig. Dylan was so turned on that it only took a few seconds for him to blast his own huge load all over the ball busted muscle stud. He pulled his pants back up, and left the big guy unconscious on the floor in a pool of his own cum. He would be awakening in a few hours to the worst case of blue balls he had ever had, and the thought made Dylan smile. And as a side benefit of the Ferengi phaser whip, Craig would have no memory of the assault or who attacked him, only the brutal pounding ache in his enormous bull nuts to let him know he had once again had his huge baby makers beaten to within an inch of rupturing.

Dylan remembered that he had a training class with Craig where they were learning how to use the Klingon bat’telh sword. He walked out of the room and smiled as he thought of the possibilities...