Hercules endures three more tortures including being roasted alive!
The Erotic Adventures of Hercules & the King of the Manazons - Page 5
by Cavelo
Series: Hercules & the King of the Manazons
Hercules was to have no rest. Still wet and panting from his effort, he was led from the temple‘s sacrificial pool deeper into the caves where the island‘s volcanic activity manifested itself in countless pools of molten lava. The temperature increased unbearably until finally, in one of the inner caves, they reached the central lava crater that was to he used as Hercules’ fourth torture. He was dragged to a vertical rack supported by chains from the ceiling. The Manazonian guards roughly hacked Hercules against the rack and spread-eagled him to it. His heavily muscled arms and legs were stretched and hound to the nick’s four corners.
The rivulets of seawater on Hercules’ body quickly turned to sweat in the intense heat of the volcanic cave. Once he was secured, several guards manned a crude mechanical device that hoisted the metal rack with its victim into a horizontal position over the boiling lava pit. Hercules" dangling body was positioned just low enough for the heat and fumes to be excruciating, but not so low as to cause his death or to incapacitate him for the king’s future plans. Obviously the king was beginning to enjoy his contest with this muscled bastard god. Never had any Manazon endured so much pain and danger so magnificently. The king watched with lustful, admiring eyes as Hercules’ torture by fire lasted well into the night. As the glow from the lava lit the sweat-glazed torso spread in front of him, the king could not help remembering his rape of this magnificent giant. Abruptly, he ordered the unconscious Hercules removed from the rack and had his burly guards drag him to a cavern cell where he was allowed to sleep deeply.
As Hercules endured torture after torture the Manazon king’s respect and fear of this bastard son of Zeus grew. For his own pleasure the king enjoyed prolonging Hercules’ agony, but he knew he must make certain that he did not survive the tortures. To fight the mighty Hercules and lose meant not only the loss of his loincloth but his throne as well. He was the mightiest of Manazon warriors and as long as no man could defeat him in combat he would remain king. Though he knew Zeus must be helping his son, he knew also that he must break this honor-bound Hercules. The king’s next diabolical torture would ruin Hercules. the man. He would feed Hercules to rabid dogs after first making him suffer excruciatingly.
Aroused from his deep, strengthening sleep, Hercules was brought to the pit of starving, rabid dogs. Knowledgeable hands again spread-eagled and bound him to a rack made of logs. Heavy hemp ropes were tied tightly around his testicles and bloody chunks of raw meat were tied to the dangling ends. The rack was moved into position where, crazed by the smell of raw meat, the maddened beasts began leaping and snapping perilously close to Hercules’ tightly bound sac. Each time a dog caught a chunk of meat in his sharp teeth and wrested it free, pain exploded in Hercules’ testicles. The king’s excitement knew no bounds as he saw those delectable, massive testicles being so wrenched and abused. Suddenly Hercules twisted mightily and freed his legs by breaking the ropes that bound him. He kicked viciously at the dog’s heads, splitting their skulls one by one. Only when all were dead did the king grudgingly allow Hercules’ release.
The Manazon king was amazed, alarmed and angered at Hercules’ continued survival. He took comfort in the thought that even though the rabid dogs had failed, the savage desert jackals most certainly would not. Anticipating Hercules’ final defeat the king ordered Hercules to be dragged from the pit and marched into the desert. As sunset melted into dusk the Manazon guards chained their prisoner securely to a stone boundary pylon high on a dune. Then, chilled by the dangers that came with the desert night, they hurried back to the safety of the city. Hercules, alone and still scented with the blood of the dog pit, listened intently as the howls of his attackers grew closer and more bold.
When the desert moon stood high and brightly lit the death dune, the pack of jackals moved in cautiously for. the kill. They sensed in Hercules an animal possibly more fierce … a lone animal, but larger, unknown, somehow threatening. With his chains heavier and stronger than any before, Hercules’ only hope was to frighten off the attacking jackals. He had to find a way to be more fearsome. From deep in his chest came a tentative growl that grew and grew until his inhuman howls split the night. The jackals edged closer, matching him howl for howl. Hercules’ wordless threats expanded until they shook his massive frame. Finally, uncertain and in fear, the jackals skulked off into the hungry night abandoning the chained animal that was indeed more fearsome than they.
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Drum - April 15, 2018, 11:59 am
How much longer can our hero last under these fiendish tortures that he is submitted to?