Hercules enslaved - 4. The king

As the emissary's henchmen seized hold of Hercules, the demigod's weakened legs suddenly buckled beneath him. With a harsh shove from behind, the henchmen sent the hero tumbling to the ground, his dignity and pride the only things left unbroken. Hercules grunted in pain as his knees struck the hard-packed earth, the iron collar around his neck constricting his breathing and hampering his ability to resist. Before he could even attempt to regain his footing, the emissary's slaves descended upon him, wielding a thick iron pole. With brutal efficiency, the slaves threaded the pole through the chains that bound Hercules' arms and legs, effectively hoisting the demigod into a helpless, arching and face-down position. As the slaves lifted Hercules from the ground, his magnificent physique and even his manhood was laid bare for all to see in the most humiliating of positions. The crowd, which had moments ago been engulfed in a frenzy of fascination and greed, now looked on in a mixture of pity and morbid curiosity.

Hercules, the mighty hero of Greece, known for his unparalleled feats of strength and courage, was now reduced to the ignominy of being carried like a slaughtered animal, his dignity and pride stripped away by the cruel machinations of his captors. The emissary watched the spectacle with a twisted smile, his gaze roaming possessively over Hercules' exposed form. "Yes, our king will be most pleased," he murmured, his voice dripping with a perverse satisfaction. "Take him away, and ensure that he is prepared for his audience with the highness."

With those words, the emissary's slaves began to hoist Hercules away, the demigod's powerful body and his dangling manhood swaying with each step, constantly reminding the demigod the utter devastation of his captivity. The crowd parted in silence, their eyes filled with a mixture of awe and pity as they bore witness to the mighty Hercules' fall from grace.

The journey to King Demetrius' stronghold was a grueling ordeal for the battered and humiliated Hercules as his arms and legs were stretched painfully backwards. As they traversed the winding roads leading to the king's domain, Hercules could not help but reflect on the cruel irony of his situation. The mighty hero, whose name was synonymous with triumph over adversity, now found himself reduced to the status of a helpless captive, at the mercy of a despotic ruler renowned for his sadistic cruelty.

The imposing gates of King Demetrius' fortress soon loomed into view, their towering presence casting an ominous shadow over the procession. Hercules felt a chill run down his spine as he beheld the physical embodiment of the tyrant's power, a tangible reminder of the peril that awaited him within those forbidding walls. As the gates creaked open, Hercules was greeted by the sight of a grand courtyard, its ornate architecture and manicured gardens at odds with the palpable air of dread that hung over the entire domain. The demigod's captors carried him through the courtyard, the curious eyes of the king's servants and guards following their every step. Hercules could feel the weight of their collective gaze, each scrutinizing glance a searing indictment of his fallen stature. It was a sensation he had never before experienced, the once-revered hero now reduced to little more than a curiosity, a trophy to be displayed and, no doubt, broken by his captor's cruel whims.

Finally, the procession halted before the imposing doors of the king's palace, their ornate carvings and gilded accents spoke volumes of Demetrius' ostentatious wealth and power. Hercules’ heart was pounding wildly with a mixture of dread and defiance as he prepared to face the tyrant who had orchestrated his downfall. As the doors swung open, the demigod caught a glimpse of the throne room beyond, its opulent grandeur a stark contrast to the humble abodes he had once frequented during his heroic quests. And seated upon the throne, his gaze fixed upon Hercules with a predatory intensity, was the dreaded King Demetrius himself.

Hercules was back on his feet again but he was quickly surrounded by the king’s guard, sharp spears pointing from all directions at his naked torso. Hercules stood still but couldn’t help feeling a surge of revulsion as the king's eyes roamed hungrily over his exposed form, a twisted smile playing across Demetrius' features. The demigod knew that he had been delivered into the clutches of a true monster, a ruler whose lust for power and domination knew no bounds. A dark shadow fell over Hercules as King Demetrius rose from his throne, his piercing gaze fixed upon the captive demigod. The tyrant's lips curled into a cruel smile, his eyes alight with a hunger that sent a chill down Hercules' spine.

"So, the mighty Hercules has been delivered to my doorstep," Demetrius gestured his men to step back while taking a look at the iron collar and continue, “how ironic Hercules’ legendary strength could be so easily neutralized by this simple device!”, his voice dripping with malicious delight. Hercules glared back defiantly, his jaw set with an unwavering resolve that belied the turmoil raging within him. Though his legendary strength had been diminished, the demigod's indomitable spirit remained unbroken, a fact that did not escape the king's discerning gaze. Demetrius let out a low chuckle, his eyes narrowing as he circled Hercules' prone form. "You possess an admirable resilience, hero," he mused, his fingers tracing the contours of the demigod's muscular frame. "But I assure you, by the time I am finished, you will be begging for the sweet release of death."

With a roar, Hercules charged the king but his henchmen were swift to deliver a heavy blow to the back of the hero’s head, sending him stumbling onto the throne room floor. As the henchmen held Hercules up again, Demetrius' initial awe quickly morphed into a twisted, calculating expression as he realized the full extent of the threat posed by the captive hero. With a swift, decisive motion, the king stepped behind Hercules and reached for the iron collar encircling the demigod's neck. Hercules' eyes widened in alarm as he felt the king's fingers gripping the collar, and a surge of dread coursed through him. Before he could even draw another breath, Demetrius inserted the hex key and began to tighten the collar, slowly constricting Hercules' airway. Instantly, the demigod was consumed by a living nightmare of agony, his powerful lungs burning with the desperate need for air. His muscles, though still tensed and straining, began to weaken as the life-sustaining oxygen was cruelly cut off. Hercules thrashed against his bonds and the captors, his eyes wild with panic as he fought to draw even the smallest gasp of breath. But with his powerful arms still bound in the back, Hercules was defenseless against the gruesome ordeal.

"Did you truly believe you could defy me, Hercules?" the king hissed, his voice dripping with malicious satisfaction. "Your brute strength is nothing in the face of my power. You are but a plaything, to be broken and discarded at my whim."

Hercules' vision began to blur, the edges of his consciousness darkening as the lack of oxygen took its toll. His mighty limbs, once so full of life and vigor, now hung limp and lifeless, buckled under his own weight. The demigod's extraordinary resilience finally pushed to the brink of collapse. Demetrius watched with a rapt, almost reverent gaze as Hercules' strength slowly drained away, his pride and defiance crumbling under the merciless onslaught of the king's cruelty. The tyrant savored every labored gasp, every twitch of the demigod's muscles as he lay prone on the floor, as if he were witnessing the unraveling of a masterpiece.

"This is but the beginning, Hercules," Demetrius whispered, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on the iron collar, cutting off the demigod's last desperate attempt at drawing breath. "You will learn the true meaning of suffering, of utter hopelessness, before I am through with you."

While the world faded to black around him, Hercules felt a profound sense of despair and anguish. He had faced countless perils in his life, but none had threatened to shatter his indomitable spirit as completely as the crushing weight of Demetrius' tyranny. As the darkness threatened to engulf Hercules, Demetrius, sensing the demigod approaching the precipice of death, suddenly relented, reversing the hex key just enough to allow a faint trickle of air to reach the captive hero's aching lungs. The king's eyes gleamed with a twisted triumph as he watched Hercules greedily gulp down the precious oxygen, the demigod's powerful body convulsing with the desperate need to survive. Demetrius let out a chilling chuckle, savoring the sight of the mighty Hercules reduced to such a pitiful, gasping state.

"There, there, my dear Hercules," the tyrant purred, his fingers caressing the iron collar with a perverse tenderness. "I would not want to deprive myself of your magnificent presence just yet. You are, after all, the crown jewel of my collection."

Though his body had been brought to the brink of collapse, the demigod's indomitable spirit refused to be extinguished. Sensing still a flicker of resistance in Hercules' gaze, Demetrius leaned in closer, his breath hot against the demigod's face. "Do not delude yourself, hero," the king hissed, his fingers turning the hex key ever so slightly on the collar hatch. "Your legendary strength is but a trifling thing in the face of my power. I will break you, Hercules, until you are nothing more than a hollow shell."

Hercules felt a chill run down his spine at the king's words, but instead of showing any sign of weakness, he mustered what little strength he had left and spat directly into Demetrius' face, a defiant act of defiance that only served to further enrage the tyrant. With a snarl of fury, Demetrius backhanded Hercules, the force of the blow sending the demigod's head snapping to the side. "Fool!" the king roared, his features contorted in a mask of pure hatred. "You will endure suffering beyond your wildest imagination, Hercules!"

With a wave of his hand, Hercules was clutched firmly again by Demetrius’ henchmen, as the king ordered, “Make sure our GUEST cool down comfortably after this long journey”.

As Hercules was taken away, the king returned to his study to look at the complex engineering drawings on his desk. Admiring the ingenuity of the contraption’s design on the drawings, as the king murmured to himself, “This is going to be a spectacular grand finale…..”

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