Cesare tortures the balls of a muscular captured Dane who plotted to harm his father.

The Papal Bull - Part 1 (Page 2)
by C.S White
Art by Cavelo
Series: The Papal Bull
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"Sire; in the southern quarter of the city, near the docks, your agents uncovered a den of thieves and cutthroats plotting harm to your father, His Blessed Holiness, and Your Most Honored Highness. The whole filthy lot was arrested and now await Papal justice. Of course, there were two or three of the men who aroused our suspicion as having need of special interrogation, so we've brought them here for your personal attention.


Edgardo fairly beamed. "Yes, Signore," he continued, "guarda".

The men had arrived at another chamber, this one smaller than the last, but with a higher ceiling. At Edgardo's enthusiastic urging, Borgia stepped through the iron doorway.

"A Dane, my lord!" announced a proud Edgardo.

Cesare's face split with a very pleased smile, his heart racing. Before him hung a giant of a man, perhaps six and a half feet tall. Suspended by his thumbs, the man's long arms made him seem superhuman in size. Five iron balls embedded with hooks hung from his leg irons, increasing the discomfort. Beside the man blazed two enormous braziers set waist high, each manned by an attentive apprentice armed with a set of bellows to keep the fire at its fiercest. A torturer was adding another weight when Cesare entered. Seeing his master enter, he hesitated, bowing low.

"Please, master torturer Squillo," said Cesare grandly, "I pray you, attend to your duty! I applaud your decision!"

"Thank you, my lord!" replied Squillo and did as he was bid. The Dane, Leif Dansk by name, groaned in response.

"A wonderful specimen!" Borgia allowed, pulling a gold piece from his belt and handing it to his captain. "You did well, Buonogamba. very well, indeed!"

"I thought only of you, Signore!"

Despite the braziers' scorching heat, Cesare approached the moaning Dane. Everything about the man was grander than life. His head seemed a separate entity, huge, with oversize features; full, red lips, though cracked and dry, parted erotically and as the man, sensing a new presence, opened his eyes, they were bluer than ice and larger than walnuts. A full head of sweat-mailed straw-yellow hair hung in short ringlets about his massive head. Full-bellied muscles coursed across Dansk's entire body. Cesare had only seen their like in the paintings and sculptures of the day, by Michelangelo, Mantegna and daVinci. Never on a living man. Borgia's rod spasmed spontaneously; his very core tingled and itched to have at this one.

"Your plans?" Cesare inquired.

The castelo's master torturer bowed, gesturing toward Dansk. "As you can see, lord, the Dane is long-limbed and very strong. With such thick muscles, I thought it not out of line to add a few strigiata cordi to such lavish riches."

Cesare rubbed his palms together in accord. "Excellent suggestion, Squillo!" He allowed his eyes to follow the length of the prisoner's huge body, still thrilling at the unbelievable proportions. The Dane's thick arms were anchored by the widest shoulders Borgia had seen; they flared under the stress of bearing his considerable mass. The width tapered significantly to a startlingly narrow waist, banded by tight stomach muscles that strained and labored at every breath. Cesare could not but marvel at the victim's heaving chest; the deep cleft between the two full pillows of muscle served as a valley for the river of sweat that coursed down his body. Two great brownish-pink nipples the size of papal ducats stretched into long ovals, each capped with a proud nub of flesh.

Dansk's tight hips led to massive thighs, each laboring like Prometheus to bear the heavy weights at his ankles. Dangling heavily from his groin was no less a marvel than the Dane's torso. Cesare had heard that men from the Northlands were better endowed than all others, and, from what he was witnessing, it seemed to be true. Jutting from a tuft of bright golden hair was a smooth tube of flesh nearly as thick as Borgia's wrist. From beneath the foreskin, Dansk's huge' knob pressed forward, the head peeping out, exposing the piss slit. Below this were two of the most colossal balls imaginable, fist sized objects, obviously heavy, sitting low and ponderous in their velvety sac; they took Cesare's breath away.

Borgia raised a finger. "Squillo?"

"Yes, lord? Your suggestion, Signore?"

"It would be a great waste and affront to God to allow such endowments as these to languish," he said, cupping one of the nuts, "don't you think?"

"Indeed, lord!"

"As you prepare the cords for his limbs, please provide one for me to add here." Cesare bounced the thing in his palm, amazed at its density.

"Consider it done, my lord!" Squillo himself retrieved a leather strap, the width of two fingers and presented it to his master. With sure expertise, the general wrapped the leather around the base of Dansk's scrotum, forming a secure loop at the end, testing its strength with a few strong tugs. Dansk stirred, his eyes focusing on his new tormentor. Anticipating Cesare's wish, Squillo appeared with one of the stone weights, which Borgia then hooked onto the loop. The balls slid down into the pouch, shiny and satisfyingly round. The Dane emitted a soft groan, a good sign.

Cesare's blood was up. His tool throbbed insistently, eager to see just what this giant could bear. Glancing upward, the master spied Dansk's thumbs, now a purplish black. He frowned. "Squillo, I would hate for our session to end abruptly due to something as silly as this man's thumbs giving way."The torturer nodded. "I'm very pleased with your progress thus far, but might I suggest that we switch to' some more secure restraints, say, a pair of studded manacles?"

Squillo assented vigorously and was back in an instant with a pair of detachable metal cuffs, the interior of which were lined with sharp studs. These were attached to the suspending chains and then added to the Dane's wrists. As the ropes binding Dansk's thumbs were removed and the blood coursed back into them, the man, almost insensate at the time from the heat and abuse, roared in distress as the nerve endings rejuvenated.

Cesare smiled as his strength and ardor for the task at hand bloomed anew. He luxuriated in the familiar warmth this energy surge provided. As his being vibrated upon watching Dansk twist slowly in his bonds, he felt as though he could continue this spectacle for weeks on end: how he loved creating pain! The Dane would prove a full evening's challenge, but he desired, indeed, required, more than this. Remembering Carlo, whom he had left nursing his striped back, Cesare ordered the man brought to Dansk's cell so he could enjoy the sufferings of both men simultaneously.

In no time, the torturers had dragged Carlo from his cell, hurrying him to Cesare's presence. His next ordeal was an upright rack. The nobleman's feet were positioned in a set of wooden stocks hinged to the floor and his arms were drawn above his head, secured in a yoke to which a heavy chain had been attached and run through a ceiling ring. The chain fed a hungry, ratcheted winding drum behind him; which was easily turned by an assistant torturer. As Carlo's body was pulled taut, Borgia sauntered up to him, amazed and pleased to see that the victim's cock was still erect; it bobbed and quivered in the chamber's golden glow. Cesare had been so pleased by the added touch of the scalding braziers that he ordered the same for Carlo. In no time, the heat was stifling and sweat drenched the floor beneath him.

"How handsome you look when you're miserable!" mocked Cesare, though he meant it. Carlo's chiseled features took on a wild fierceness as he struggled to bear the discomfort. The master called for another leather cord, which he began fastening around Carlo's scrotum. Cesare smiled at his on~time friend. "Have you ever wondered how much weight your beautiful balls can bear before they tear from your body, Carlo?" The man was silent. "Well, we shall soon see, won't we?" Cesare tossed his head toward the Dane. "We'll have a contest, a tournament, if you will! The Papal States versus the Danes. You see, our friend here already has one stone on you." Borgia hooked the weight onto Carlo's loop and dropped it, the thing jerking his balls down in a painful yank. The victim threw his head back as a burning sensation swirled through his bowels, but he remained silent. "Ah!" exclaimed the lord, "very good, piccolo mio! My father would consider it an affront if you allowed a foreigner to best you." He scanned his friend's stretched form.

"But look! The weight has caused your body to sag!" He pursed his lips in feigned concern. "Perhaps your bonds are too loose!"



  1. 31118azti - May 14, 2020, 9:14 am

    Great descriptions!

  2. Eclecte - June 8, 2020, 10:44 am

    Like too! I can wait to read the next chapters 🙂

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