Date: Wed, 10 Feb 2021 16:50:03 -0500
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: Hercules Bound chapter thirteen - celebrity

Hercules Bound
Chapter thirteen: The King's Dairy
Evan Andrews
2021

This is a fan fiction.

Given how convoluted Hercules' story has become in myth, legend, and modern
drama, don't expect this to fit cleanly into any version you know. It's its
own story with its own continuity. And its own style. Xena ruined me for
serious Greco-Roman fantasy. I admit it.

To make things easy for me, I imagined certain people in certain roles.
This chapter has an extended cast. I imagine Herc being played by Kellan
Lutz, Iolaus by WCW wrestler Evan Karagias, Deimos by gay porn star (Corbin
Fisher) Marc II, Minos by Sean Connery (Time Bandits), Daedalus by Bill
Hunter (Bob in Priscilla Queen of the Desert), the captain of the guard by
Gordan Scott, and dairy slaves Creon of Rhodes by Nassos Pappas and
Demetrios of Side by Kit Hartington (for other slaves google Turkish oil
wrestling) and Prince Balsan by Saudi Arabian model Omar Borkan Al
Gala. Your casting may vary. This story should in no way be considered a
true representation of the sexuality of either the actors or the
characters.

The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If this
offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you
are please stop reading now. Thank you.

If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to
keeping Nifty going at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html


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When Iolaus finally got back to the great hall, Herc was on both knees
before Ares, his head bowed and his body reeking of cum.

"Brother," Ares said, "One of my dear friends has asked me to do something
for him. Would you like to know who and what?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Herc said, suddenly looking up defiantly.

"You still have a smart-ass come-back?" Ares sneered, "Not to worry. We'll
get rid of that eventually."

He beckoned Deimos forward.

"My son has come to me bearing a petition from King Minos which I am
inclined to honor," Ares said, "It seems the king has a stable..."

"I've done the stable thing," Herc said, rudely interrupting Ares' script.

"Yes," Ares growled, "Some too-smart-for-his-own-good mortal has already
mentioned that."

The dark god shot a glare at Iolaus, who met his glare with a calm
appraising look.

"But it's not that kind of stable. The king has a stable of cattle that
need tending to, and he thinks you're just the man for the job. Do you
think you're up to the task?"

"Taking care of cows?" Herc said, "Sure, why not?"

"I suppose I have to admire your gall, but we'll see if it's merited."

"Deimos," Ares said, "Take your uncle to King Minos' throne room that he
might begin his labor."

"Up," Deimos said to his uncle, "Up, and prepare yourself to meet and serve
a king."

Herc climbed to his feet.

"What?" he said, "Am I supposed to appear before the king naked?"

"I could send you covered in cum, I suppose," Ares said as if he were
seriously considering it, "But no, not this time. After all, naked suits a
slave."

Deimos took Herc by the upper arm. There was a flash, and Herc found
himself in Minos' throne room, clean but still naked.

The king, possessed of a sound body and a handsome face, sat on a plain
throne in his great hall.

"Lord King," Deimos said, "Master of the Labyrinth, I am come with the
mighty Hercules as you desired. Ares, my father, bids you use him hard and
use him well."

Minos ignored the godling and said, "Kneel before us, Hercules."

Herc took a step away from Deimos (who disappeared in a cloud of pique) and
went to one knee.

"What do you want me to do, Minos?" he asked bluntly.

"Oh, something fairly simple, and right up your alley if the stories we've
been hearing are true. We have a fine stable of cattle that need to be seen
to. Daedalus here," and the king glared at an older man with a careworn
face, "He promised us he'd present me an automaton that could do the job,
but it doesn't seem to be ready yet."

Daedalus looked shamed.

"Please, Lord King," he said, "The workshop ran out of..."

"No excuses," Minos roared, "You are just lucky that our brother, Ares, had
someone that he could spare to lend a hand to the matter."

The assembled courtiers and foreign emissaries snickered, and even Daedalus
seemed to find some humor in what Minos had said. Herc figured that was
some inside joke that he'd missed. The hero kept his eyes on Minos and
waited for his orders.

"Leucus!" the king called to the captain of his guards, "Take this slave of
Ares away to the stables. The morning is well started, and the cattle are
waiting."


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Leucus led Herc, flanked by guards, out of throne room and through the
Labyrinth to the lowest level at the far end of the palace. Herc kept
sniffing, trying to pick up on the smell of livestock, but all he could
make out was the smell of unwashed men which you expected in the underbelly
of a palace this size. They brought him at last into a stone barn with
wings to either side. Each wing was set with stalls on both sides –
twenty-five on each side in both wings, making for a hundred in total. It
was not like any dairy Herc had ever seen. The stalls were too small for
even the most emaciated cattle, and the smell was all wrong. Cows stank,
and where was the bull?

"You should get to know the king's cattle, hero," Leucus said, "Follow me."

The buff soldier led Herc to the first stall on the right in the right
wing. Inside stood a naked man. He was young, handsome, and had a head
crowned with golden curls. His chest was circled by several bands of
leather that buckled behind his back. His arms were strapped to the chest
bands down to the elbows. This left his hands free, but as they were
trapped inside fingerless leather mittens the freedom meant nothing. A
gleaming gold ring sat at the base of the young man's cock, and another
forced his balls into a taunt scrotum. His feet were hobbled by an ankle
spreader that kept him for taking large steps; he could barely walk, let
alone run. When the blond looked up, Herc saw he was collared and fitted
with a bit gag that kept his jaws spread slightly apart. A chain connected
the collar to a ring in the wall of the stable.

"Creon," Leucus said, and Herc suddenly realized he'd seen that name
written on the little sign over top of the stall's door, "A hostage pledged
by Rhodes to the service of King Minos."

"Hostage?" Herc asked.

"Hostage, captive, slave... take your pick," the captain said
contemptuously.

Herc's mind was reeling. A stable of men? Not cows? It made no sense. But
the guards immediately drug him to the next stall where he was introduced
to Demetrios of Side who possessed curly dark hair and a handsome
face. This hostage was naked and bound the same way Creon was, and Hercules
sensed a theme. It was the same all the way down the stalls on that side of
the right wing and then back the other side. Stall after stall of bound
naked men. After that they forced Herc from stall to stall in the other
wing. Forty-nine more notable men brought to a demeaning state at Minos'
whim. The last stall was empty, and Herc looked at the Chief of the Guards
expectantly.

"That one?" Leucus said proudly, "That one's reserved for a special guest
that's supposed to be coming in sometime this week – well, according to
the seers."

"Guest," Herc thought, "Right," and he shuddered.

"And just what am I supposed to do?" Herc asked.

"What? You haven't figured that part out?" Leucus chortled, "These are the
king's cattle, and you're tasked with milking them. We should get started."

"Milking them?"

"Of course," Leucus said, "What else do you do with cattle, and from what
I've heard you know your way around a cum-tit. As the king said, it's well
past time for the morning milking, but since you're new to this, just this
first time, I'll show you what to do. The dairy is right over there. Get
set up while my men bring you the first lot."

The dairy sat in between the two wings and was not much more than an alcove
across from entrance. Herc found that it was fitted up with five hanging
slings. These were not fucking slings like the one he'd occupied to test
Hephaistos' fucking machine. No, these were shaped exactly right for a
man's chest to fit in if he were bent over at the waist. There were golden
buckets along one wall and a crystal "cans" presumably to hold the
"milk". Herc, still stunned at the task he was being set to, could only
stare at the buckets until Leucus and the guards drug a resisting Creon up
to the first sling. They bent him over and strapped his upper body face
down in the sling. Leucus, sporting an evil grin, took down a skin of
something and forced the nozzle into the blond captive's asshole. The young
man groaned at the violation, and again when the captain squeezed a dose of
whatever it was into his guts.

"Hold it in, slave, or I'll get out a plug and make sure you don't leak a
drop," Leucus said, "You don't want to wear a plug do you?"

Creon forced his eyes shut and shook his head.

"That's good," Leucus said, "Now, Hercules, pay attention to this cum-cow's
junk."

Herc watched, amazed, as Creon's limp cock plumped up. It was a magnificent
cock and did the young hostage proud, even in this situation. This
situation, yeah. Herc glanced at Leucus for orders.

"And now," Leucus said, grabbing hold of Creon's thickening cock, "This is
how you milk these cattle."

"Milk," Herc repeated blankly. Was this really happening?

"Quick, aren't you? Yeah, you, your hands, him, his cock, until you get a
load of fresh cum. You got it, hero boy? Here, hand me a stool."

Creon grimaced and looked back over his shoulder imploringly at Hercules.

Herc knew what that look meant.

"You're a hero and a warrior," the look meant, "Save me from this fate."

Herc's face must have betrayed something of what he felt because suddenly
Leucus was in his face dangling an amulet. It was Ares' sign, and Herc knew
there was nothing he could do. He was at Ares' mercy and had to follow
Ares' orders. And given he had been lent to King Minos he was the king's
slave as well. He watched Creon writhe as the drugged enema completed its
evil purpose on his golden body. The young man began to perspire, but also
his cock that had been merely plump became rock hard and his balls seemed
to swell as well. Herc handed Leucus one of the stools, and the captain of
the guard sat down right behind the bent over hostage.

"You will follow the king's orders, dairy slave. Get down on your knees
beside me, and I'll demonstrate the technique."

Herc knelt where he had a good view of Creon's swinging cum-spiggot. Leucus
lubed the staff of blood-engorged man-meat, took hold of it, and began to
stroke. Creon groaned and wriggled his ass.

"Most men, in my experience," Leucus said offhandedly, "Require no more
than five minutes to bring off. Some take more time, some less, but it all
averages out. These cum-cows have been on drugs to enhance their output and
penile sensitivity, so you should have too much trouble getting your
loads."

Herc did the math. One hundred captives, five minutes each, five hundred
minutes or more than eight hours. He'd be doing this all day long every day
he was stuck down here. Fuck!

"And that was the drug that you just squirted up his ass?" Herc asked,
trying to get over the math.

"Right. But it's also in the watering bottles in their stalls."

As Leucus spoke he kept pumping Creon's dick.

"What if he squirts out the drug?" Herc asked.

"Then it's like I told him," the captain said as he worked the blond's rod,
"He gets a second dose and I shove a plug in his ass to make sure he
doesn't do it again. And he spends that much more time in the milking
sling. Speaking of which, look at his face. How's our boy doing?"

Herc glanced up at Creon's face and read a growing excitement overwrite the
horror already etched there.

"He's almost there, " Herc said, and then he asked, "Why?"

"Why what? Why milk these cum-cows? Yeah, I suppose `The king said to'
wouldn't be good enough for you," Leucus laughed, "Well, you know about
King Midas and his golden touch?"

Herc nodded. Midas was a prime example of why you had to be incredibly
careful when asking for gifts from the gods.

"Asclepios paid that fool of a king a visit and, in conjunction with the
priests, devised a treatment for him. A treatment, mind you, not a
cure. You don't get around the gods that easily. By mixing man's milk with
certain rare medicines, Midas can shut off his gift for a day, maybe
two. Well, Midas may have the gold, but he couldn't manage to assemble a
man dairy of the required size. So, he sent out word to Minos, lord over
many cities, and begged for his help. Minos, glad to have such a man as his
client demanded that all the cities he'd bested in battle should send him
two of their most handsome and most virile warriors in tribute. And of
course they did."

"Yeah," Herc thought, "Demanding tribute in human flesh was very Cretan."

Creon was panting hard now, and a strand of precum dangled from his
dick. He couldn't last much longer.

"And the last stall?" Herc asked again, "Who goes in there?"

"You keep harping on that. It doesn't matter, but, if I know my lord, he
will want to introduce that one to you specially. Until he does, don't you
worry your pretty little head about the hundredth stall. Ah, this one's
ready. Hand me a gold pail and watch."

Creon's eyes were squeezed shut, and he was gasping. Leucus kept pumping
with his right hand and hooked the handle of the pail Herc passed to him on
a hook under the sling right where Creon's cock would spurt. Using one hand
on the shaft, the captain tickled the sensitive bundle of nerves under the
tip of Creon's cockhead, and the young man howled something that was far
older than human speech, something primal and soul-wrenching. The young
man's shaft tried to leap out of Leucus' hand, but the captain held on and
made sure every spurt (and there were many) and every drop ended up in the
pail.

When the last of the sperm had been teased out of Creon's balls, the young
man slumped, and his legs went slack. The remnants of the drugged enema
leaked from his ass and ran down the insides of his thighs.

"I guess it was good for him, at least in the end," Leucus laughed, "That's
lucky from him since he's going to be milked daily. Now on to our next
candidate."

Herc had been so fascinated by Creon's milking torture that he hadn't
noticed that three more of the hostages had been hauled out and strapped
into milking slings as well. Demetrios, the next victim, had seen what
Leucus was doing to his comrade and was struggling in vain against the
straps. He also made sure to glare his hatred at Herc. Leucus noticed and
laughed again as he violated the man's ass and squirted a dose of the drug
into his ass.

"This one's feisty. But don't worry about that. My men are more than a
match for him. For all of them in fact. None of these cum-cows were happy
when we stripped them and restrained them like animals. But they all know
in their hearts that if they don't comply, or worse try to escape, things
will go very badly –for them and for their home cities."

"Isn't that right, boy?" he asked Demetrios, running his ass.

The drug was clearly affecting the Sidean stud now. He as moaning, and his
cock jutted out respectably.

"Get to work, hero-man," Leucus said, "You have ninety-seven more men to
milk today."

Herc knee-crawled over to Demetrios and began to massage the dark stud's
swollen rod. Despite the man's anger, his cock was sensitive, and Herc
managed to finish the job in slightly less than five minutes. Herc knew
that because Leucus had pulled an hourglass from somewhere, or rather a
five minute glass, and had been watching, judging Herc's performance.

"Very good," Leucus said as the last of Demetrios's sperm dripped into the
pail and his body went slack, "Keep up that pace, and you may even earn
time for a midday meal."

"And, just a suggestion," the sadistic captain continued, "I bet if you
used your mouth as well as your hands, you might bring them off even
faster. Try teasing their balls and taints."

"Of course," Herc thought as he applied himself to the third cum-cow, a
muscular lad from Anatolia, "Of course Ares made sure to suggest that to
Minos."

But he took the advice, taking the young man's testicles into his mouth and
stroking them with his tongue. There were ninety-six men waiting their
degradation and humiliation, and Herc had to milk every single one of them
or break his vow.

Leucus sat back on a sack and watched. In his high good humor he was
getting communicative.

"What I told you about King Midas, well it's true but my king never does
anything for only one reason. The way I figure it, by demanding these men
as tribute not only seals a deal with Midas, but it also sends a message,
both to the cows themselves and to their people. Every milking is one more
warrior that will never be born in that city to take the field against the
king. It's a mind game, hero. Minos is clever that way."

Herc didn't respond. He was now busy licking the fourth hostage from balls
to butthole as he jerked the man off. And even after this one came, the job
didn't get any easier. Stoically, Herc worked his way through the rest of
Minos' herd of milk studs. And of course the guards, Leucus especially,
made sure each man all knew who was milking them for cum-cows. When they
heard his name, they all got a look of hope that maybe now that it was
their turn, Herc would come out of whatever spell had been cast over him,
free them, and lead them all out of here. Then when he didn't (because of
course he couldn't) their faces became masks of anger and contempt.

"Poor Hercules," Leucus taunted, "None of your clients appreciates all your
hard work. But you know what I always say? `Who cares about a cum slave's
opinion.'"

The sun rose to noon, and Leucus called for a short break. Apparently
Herc's oral technique had gotten him a little bit ahead of schedule, and as
a reward the king's new milkmaid was presented with a simple meal of bread,
cheese, boiled eggs, and watered wine. Then it was back to work, which he
finished in the heat of the afternoon. As the guards carried away the last
cum-cow, Norax, a giant of a man from Sardinia, and the last bucket, Herc
struggled to his feet and stumbled towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going, milking boy?" he shouted.

"I'm done," Herc said.

"No, the milking may be done, but your job isn't. I've set a cauldron of
water to warm over the fire over there, and a here's choice of brushes and
soap. Now get out there and scrub the king's cum-cows clean. I want them to
glow in the torchlight, you understand me?"

"But, Ares said one service," Herc protested.

"Remember what I said about cum-slaves' opinions, milking boy?" Leucus held
up Ares' sigil, "Same thing goes for dairy slaves. The king gave me this
and said you're to stay here and see to his herd—to their milking,
cleaning, and feeding until Daedalus has his automaton done."

Herc's face fell. He was in anguish about the horrors he was being forced
to inflict on these proud men, but the sigil. He had no choice but to obey
his oath --- and Minos' orders.

"But, since you got done ahead of schedule," Leucus said magnanimously,
"And you've got some time, why don't you get down on your knees and use
that pretty mouth to do some milking on my cock. Then you can grab a bucket
and get those cum slaves clean."

"Suck.." Herc started to think but Leucus broke his train of thought.

"What are you waiting for?" the captain yelled, "On your knees and suck my
dick, you whore. Now!""


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The sun had just dipped below the horizon when Herc finished scrubbing the
Sardinian giant. The guards had watched and had applied to Leucus to let
them jerk off onto the hero's muscular frame.

"Some other day, perhaps," Leucus had said, "Tonight the king wants this
one in attendance in the banquet hall. There's some big shindig on. We'll
leave clothing him in a cloak of many loads for tomorrow."

They hustled the still naked Herc back towards the entrance to the
Labyrinth, Leucus in the lead carrying the crystal milk pail full of male
nectar. The parade reached the human part of the palace and found a banquet
definitely in progress. A priest of Asclepius took the milk pail away from
Leucus, and the guards spread out around the perimeter of the hall. Minos
gestured for Leucus to bring Herc forward.

"The priests seem to think you've done well, Hercules," the king said,
"Leucus, what say you?"

"Noble lord, my king," Leucus said with a bow of his head, "He shows some
aptitude in handling men's cocks, that is certain."

"Good. Hercules come and stand here beside us. We think we shall follow our
brother Ares' advice in another matter. He told us that your own cum would
be worth sampling. Stand here beside us, and you shall supply man-sauce to
flavor our meat tonight. Let the feast begin!"

A hundred dishes appeared from the kitchens, some plain and homey but most
exotic, cooked in rare oils and redolent of potent spices. Not that Herc
got to taste a mouthful of it. His job was the keep himself half-hard and
use his hand to whip out a load whenever Minos thought a dish lacked
something. If Herc hadn't been a whorestage in Ares' palace for as long as
he had been, sucking cock and taking it up the ass in public for what
seemed like months, he might had died of embarrassment.

In the middle of the banquet, the herald appeared.

"Lord King," he trumpeted, "The embassy from the city of Sur landed
yesterday and present themselves as you commanded."

"Bring them in," Minos said, "Let us see what tribute Sur has sent."

Horns blared, and into the hall strode a handsome young man with strong
Phoenician features. He wore his dark black hair worn long and dressed as
befitted a prince. All in purple.

"Oh yes," Herc remembered, "Surian purple, the rarest color in the world."

"Lord King," the herald continued, "Prince Balsan of Sur."

The prince said not a word but instead gave a curt bow. Stories of the
fates of some of Minos' tribute hostages were told in courts around the
Middle Sea, and he was justly cautious.

"Prince Balsan, you please us. Stay here with us," the king said, "And the
rest of you, lords and notables of Sur, away. Your ship leaves with the
tide."

"But King Minos," the Surian emissary said, aghast, "We are here to serve
His Highness, even as he serves you."

"We said away!" Minos roared, "Out now! And be thankful we didn't demand
another hostage from Sur!"

The emissaries looked undecided.

"Kinsmen," the Prince said, "Do as the king commands. We all knew it might
come to this. Go home and assure the lord my father that the Lord of
Knossos has his hostage."

The Surians bowed and backed out of the hall.

"Well and wisely said, prince," Minos said, "Keep that attitude, and we'll
deal well together. But for now... Guards, strip him."

"What?!" Balsan cried as the guards descended on him from all directions
and tore away his costly robes.

Holding him close, they forced a bit gag into his mouth and secured the
strap of it behind his handsome head. He screamed his anger, but he could
not articulate a single word, nor could he break free of Minos' guards who
were by now expert hands at subduing Minos' tributes. Leucus tossed the
purple robe to the king who examined it and let it fall to the floor. Since
the robe was worth a prince's ransom, it was a move of purest bravado.

"You won't be needing these, hostage" Minos said, "And there's more that
you won't be needing. Guards."

The guards forced Balsan on his back over a bench and held him still as the
king's barber came out and shaved all the hair off the prince's body. They
held the struggling Balsan down and spread his legs baring his brown-ringed
asshole spread. Herc cringed as Leucus stepped forward and forced the
siphon of a skin of what had to be the milking drug into his ass. Balsan
cried out as he was violated. Then Leucus squeezed the bag and flooded the
noble ass with Minos' insidious milking drug. Balsan continued to struggle,
and the court watched intently as the drug took hold of his body. His dark
cock began to swell and lengthen, his balls plumped out, and the single eye
of his cockhead began to glisten.

"Hercules," the king said, "Show us what it was you learned in the stables
today. Give Prince Balsan his first milking."

Balsan's face became a study in terror. He had noticed the naked man
standing behind Mino's throne, but he had no idea what it had
signified. Cretans were strange people; everybody knew that. Now he
knew. This king was going to use him in a way that no man should ever be
used.

Herc stepped forward and looked down and the horrified man. Calmly he took
hold of the prince's now- thick shaft and ran his hand up and down its
length.

In the few words of Phoenician he knew, Herc said, "Relax. Done soon."

"Over for tonight," Herc thought, but he grieved that this noble young man
was fated to join the others down in Minos' perverted herd of cum-cows.

Herc worked slowly and methodically, knowing Minos wanted to see his new
hostage humiliated to the core, but also knowing that Minos and his court
wanted a show. He brought Balsan to the edge twice before finally allowing
him to shoot his load. Thick and white, the Phoenician cum lay like pearls
on olivewood.

Stepping back, he allowed Leucus to scoop up the young man's sperm in a
golden spoon and present that to Minos. The king sniffed at it appraisingly
before slurping it down.

"Quite tasty," Minos said, "When men speak of the riches of Sur, they do
not exaggerate. Leucus, let us proceed to the next act."

Hands suddenly took hold of the naked Herc and forced him face down over
top of Balsan.

"What?!" Herc tried to say, but a bit gag was forced into his mouth as
well, and all he could do was wriggle.

Herc heard a clap and looked back over his shoulder. Minos was doffing his
robes, and, once naked himself, he allowed body servants to oil his body
until it shone. A priest of a sort Herc didn't recognize entered bearing a
mask in the shape of a bull's head and placed it over Minos' head. Then,
bull masked, naked, and hard, the king crossed the short distance to the
restrained men.

"No!" Herc tried to yell as Minos took careful aim at the hero's man-cunt.

With a brutal decisiveness, Minos forced his way into Herc's ass and began
a fuck that was as violent and thorough as any Ares had yet given
him. Grunting and moaning, Herc tried to find the pattern to Minos'
assault, but the king always kept him guessing. Herc shot a glance at
Balsan at one point during the anal assault and saw shock, but also a
measure of pity in the man's brown eyes.

"Good to know there'll be at least one man down in the stables that won't
hate me," Herc thought, but then the king went into fuck overdrive, and
Herc's brain shut down as his prostate was banged into mush.

"Fuh fuh fuh!" he groaned.

Suddenly his balls tightened, and his cock began to pulse.

Herc shot ropes of cum all over the prince's belly before feeling Minos'
own cock filling his guts with royal cream.  The hero collapsed on top of
the new cum-cow as Minos stepped back and took off the bull mask.

"Take them away," Minos said, "Get them down to the stables where they
belong."


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For a three market intervals Herc milked the Hundred, even Prince Balsan,
every day.

"Surely," Herc thought, "Midas has to have enough cum to last him for years
by now," but the daily grind never ceased or slowed down. After the third
day, the guards added the twist of fucking their favorite cum-cows up the
ass when they were milked, making sure that the other men being milked saw
and understood. They were nothing except cum-spigots to their Cretan
captors. The hostages cried, but there was nothing Herc could do to stop
the randy Cretans. Leucus also had his favorites, and he had the guards
make a bed of hay alongside the dairy where he could take the man of his
choice and ravage his hole at length after he'd been milked. At the end of
the day, Leucus also made sure that the cum-cows got a good view of him
skull-fucking the great hero Hercules -- or once or twice pounding his
muscular ass. The milk studs never entirely forgave Herc for his part in
their degradation, but they did recognize that he was in almost as pitiable
a situation as they were, especially when the guards reported how Minos in
his bull mask had taken to raping the hero nightly as the climax to dinner.

Finally, though, Daedalus completed his device, and Herc's term of service
was over. At the final banquet, in Ares honor, of course, and with the war
god in attendance, Herc appeared clothed not only in the fresh cum of all
the guards. Leucus had thoughtfully arranged for the cum-cows to add a
hundred additional doses of sperm to Herc's already slimed body. The war
god hooted with delight when the hero was brought before him in his new
raiment.

"Brother, you never wore anything more appropriate!"

At end of meal, Ares gave the king and his guests a show, demonstrating how
he had brought the mighty Hercules low. He had Herc chained, standing but
spread, between two columns and fucked him violently – almost as
violently as Minos had for the previous twenty nights. The crowd was
stunned by the way Herc's body rocked with the intensity of Ares' wild
thrusts, and Minos made a note to be sure he never, NEVER, crossed this
dark god. When Herc finally was allowed to cum, after being denied five
times, Ares caught the hero's jizz in his hand and offered it to Minos.
While king savored Herc's semi-divine seed one last time, Ares forced his
brother to his knees and came in his open mouth. Herc swallowed some of
Ares' sperm, but knowing Ares' perverse sense of humor he let most of it
drip out of his mouth and join that of the conquerors and conquered that
already coated his muscles. Then he licked Ares' cock clean.

"Get up, Hercules," Ares ordered when the hero was done, "Let's go
home. I'm have guests of my own that have been waiting patiently to get a
piece of that ass."

Herc, newly chastened, clambered to his feet, and in a flash they were
gone.