The Telemachus Story Archive

The Conquest Of Zantar
Part 2
By Kyle Cicero (Illustrated by Herodotus)

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His breathing deepened and, as he worked on his anal cavity under the warm sunlight, his eyes closed. Soon he was drifting off once more on the sensations. His other hand roughly mashed the chain coverings surrounding his manhood. His throat constricted as another wave of sexual urgency took him into its grip. His thumb moved away to let another longer finger take its place on his chute entryway.  The finger slipped easily into his once undefiled anal opening and found that spot in his guts his enemy had recently tapped to such great effect. Zantar involuntarily thrust his finger in hard and with a light whimper of simply "o", the last remnants in his nut-sack forced themselves out exploding through his cock-head's slit. His strong body violently shook as he doubled over and squirted one final powerful time. After a few minutes he stopped and withdrew his finger then, he composed himself. He still experienced a tingling in his body and the thought he was still in some type of sexual heat embarrassed him.

As he repositioned himself backward on his muscled haunches exhausted by his "milking" his right butt cheek still stun slightly from where he had been marked by his hated foe with a tattoo of personal ownership. The stinging symbol was also intended to constantly remind Zantar of how this man had sexually abused him. As the warm sun soothed his skin the formerly dominant take charge rebel prince mentally recalled the past few months when the flow of events reduced him to this degraded situation.  Proud and arrogant he had thought he was invincible. His foe had taken him by trickery, stripped him of his pride and lastly, his very manhood. Zantar had tasted his first defeat at the hands of his sworn enemy even more crushing; he had tasted the seed of this man in his mouth and, more humiliating, inside his very arse just hours before. Now here he was masturbating in his cell like some bitch in heat while defiling his own arse!

As he kneeled there trying to make sense of everything he never realized that the unseen eyes of that very man had taken in the entire sequence of scenes that had enfolded. A small grin came to the man's features. He coughed and Zantar's eyes went up to find his foe grinning at him from a slot in the sidewall. A flush of renewed shame came over him. The man had observed him disgracing himself.  The horror of this fact filled him with humiliation and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out his surroundings. Yet, still his body ached to engage in more sexual release. Zantar pressed his eyes tighter trying to block out the intolerable craving to stimulate himself sexually another time. No I can fight this, he repeated to his brain even as his loins sent a contrary signal of their own. I will not do this craven unmanly activity especially now that he is observing me , he screamed defiantly to this inner sexual demon. He swallowed in the damp air of his cell as his powerful body trembled under the ever-increasing demand that he  "re-spunk". Soon it filled every fiber of his torso. Finally this burning grew too great for him to control. His hand hesitantly reached down to press the moist sticky hot metal onto his manhood and soon the cell filled with the cries of shame as the proudly arrogant young captive brought himself to yet another degrading climax heedless of the fact he was being watched by the very man he despised and who's reign he had fought to overthrow. "Ah," he grunted deeply then, "Argh yes," he whimpered as he spent himself once more only to find when he had "jizzed" that he still ached to milk his manhood with an even greater urgency. He gazed over wild-eyed to take in his foe's grinning visage. Zantar shot his enemy a look of defiance. Seconds passed while the hunger grew in the buff youthful rebel. The man's eyes narrowed. He waited. After a few more minutes the need grew too strong. With his head bowed in degradation, Zantar reached to his crotch to undertake another masturbation flushing with shame at his total loss of control and worse, how he was humiliating himself before one he had contempt for all his young life. The chains scrapped his now raw cock but the pain only gave more force to his body's desire to once more ejaculate. "Ugh," he repeatedly mumbled in agony as he squeezed his enclosed trapped manhood in his hand desperate to blow his wad and hoping that once completed this fire in him would at last be satiated.

The man observed this degrading display with glee. He was somewhat content in how far he had crushed the haughty spirit of the once heroic rebel prince even as he eagerly plotted a further series of ways to completely mentally and sexually subjugate this strapping young man forever!  Ever since he had seized the throne Crown Prince Zantar had made his rule insecure. Leading raids and inspiring resistance the handsome young fit warrior had cut a dashingly heroic figure in the kingdom. Capturing him had been a fluke but turning him from a fiery rebellious stallion into a submissive docile brood mare that existed solely for sexual orgasms at his foe's pleasure was a well-thought out plan. True he had fucked Zantar's royal arse and mouth but it had been rape and only after the rebel hero had been bound tightly to the usurpers bed. With an evil grin the tyrant recalled that event as the young captive worked and sweated to shoot into his bindings. As his ears took in the pathetic whimpers of Zantar's masturbation his mind remembered how it had all began.

The Capture:

For years Zantar had launched a series of devastating attacks on the usurper's troops.  He and his followers would come out of nowhere only to vanish like the fog after they had accomplished their goals. Things had become desperate as the people looked upon him as their legitimate crown prince. The tyrant was never secure as long as Zantar roamed the land to rally the opposition. But how to capture him remained illusive.

 In the end it proved quite simple. Zantar had been secretly sleeping with a castle maiden. Her sister discovered this and, jealous that her younger sibling was the "sexually having" the strapping handsome young hero who years before had taken her virginity, she decided to inform on Zantar's visits. The usurper saw his chance and had the sister generously arrange a special room with her sibling for the lovers to meet in.

The tyrant quietly set the trap by stationing men in a hidden series of passageways around the room. Together with them he waited until Zantar arrived. Holding them in check until he gave the signal he watched from a secret slit as Zantar arrived then, stripped and climbed into bed with his lover. Even the usurper had to admit his foe was a stunning sight, his tall muscular form a vision of masculine perfection. As Zantar lay with the maid the torchlight's erotically set off Zantar's strong back's defined physique that flowed down to a narrow waist and well-formed leg muscles. A fiendish idea came to him as he watched the well-built rebel prince's rounded beefy arse humping up and down into the moaning maid's yielding form. He smiled as he plotted his revenge and ultimate victory while the lover's, unaware of the evil coming to them, engaged in a series of sexual activities that had a few of the soldiers unconsciously rubbing their own manhood.

A few men stirred wondering why they were not ordered to act but the usurper wanted Zantar fully engaged in the heat of sexual rutting before he sprang his men from their hiding place. When he heard a low series of heavy panting groans of, "Uh," come from the naked stud and observed how his hips were now rapidly and vigorously pushing down between the maid's legs the usurper knew Zantar was going to climax. He gave the signal!

It was all done so quickly after that. The men emerged quietly then they roughly pulled the rebel off the maid right in the middle of his final stroke. The tyrant chuckled as he observed Zantar being yanked upwards exposing his still fully erect cock with his pupils dulled by the aroused sexual state he was in. Such an embarrassing way to be taken the tyrant thought when, to his further delight, Zantar's cock squirted its spunk in a white creamy arch to the floor in front of him. As Zantar's mind cleared a look of anger and shock came over him. He struggled with the soldiers holding him. Then he saw his spunk on the floor and took in the sight of his dripping deflated cock that was exposed to everyone's view. He gazed around the room at the smirking faces of the other men and stopped resisting yet, he still fixed his eyes on the tyrant and glared at him with a smugly superior defiant air that riled the man.

The tyrant took in the defined torso of his hated rival. The sweat from Zantar's recent bed-romp exertions played along the surface of his body setting off the ridges of his hard abdominals. His skin was rapidly becoming paler now but still retained an attractive pinkish redness from the physical stimulation it had previously received. As Zantar calmed down, his breathing regulated and his round firm pectorals stopped their prior heaving. The villain was sorry about that fact as watching that sculpted chest rise and fall had most intoxicating effect on him. He let his eyes drift down toward Zantar's manhood. Even in its now flaccid state it was impressive in its girth and length. The rebel's sack was equally striking being low and full. The usurper felt an itch grow in him as he watched how those balls nestled against the full muscled thighs that framed them. His throat felt parched. Aware of how what he was doing must appear he quickly looked at Zantar who had a smirk on his good-looking face that seemed to say, "You degenerate. You will never be the man that I am." He glimpsed around the room to see some of the embarrassed soldiers looking away. Then he heard a soft chuckle come from Zantar. Some of his soldiers looked to the floor.

A grim visage came to the tyrant's face as he gazed back at his once feared opponent who even in his capture in such circumstances seemed to still act with the natural assurance of being more of a man than his foe. With a sharp order he had the rebellious young crown prince taken to his own bedroom and firmly secured spread eagle and face down on his own bed. If the soldiers had any qualms about this action the look of anger & excitement on their master's face quelled any hesitations they might have had. As they led a struggling Zantar away the evil villain took in once more the stimulating sight of that naked muscled form fighting as it was dragged away shouting abuse at his capture and taunting his manhood. Soon enough, the despot thought, I will show you my young buck who's the man and who just the man's bitch!

 A gruff yelp of frustration from Zantar brought the despot's mind back from his thoughts. He stared at the rebel hero who was now chained in his cell and, judging by his hoarse moans and humiliating whines, he was further debasing himself quite nicely in his chains! The usurper gazed at that muscled body in the thrall of abandoned sexual heat. Zantar had reached back to his arse again clearly fingering himself once more while furiously mashing his manhood in its chained links in a desperate bid to orgasm. As the despotic ruler took in the performance his mind drifted back to the time the two spent in the bedroom when he had spent his own seed into Zantar's struggling form.


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