The Telemachus Story Archive

The Conquest Of Zantar
Part 1
By Kyle Cicero (Illustrated by Herodotus)

This tale is a work of fiction with all rights reserved. Of course you must be over 18 to read it. It was inspired by a pix a friend sent me from some sight which I'm sure has some copywrite on it so I will not post it. *>). I hope however you find the story it inspired interesting regardless. To Ron, someone to whom I always refer too with much affection as simply "the beekeeper". To Scott, whose works are sources of pleasure as is his friendship. Lastly, to Mark Allen who's inner beauty of soul will forever make him, to me and others he meets in life, the "eternal muse".


../../Herodotus/01 Zantar.jpg

Zantar was still on his knees. As he faced the rising morning sun he closed his eyes and placed his hands on top of his head his head. Stretching his six foot three inch frame upward while still kneeling he let the heat from the day play along his taunt muscular body. The heavy chain belt around his narrow tapered waist slung downward, its links lying solidly across the tops of his strong thighs. His powerful body was naked now except for the bunched up chain links that were looped around his waist in a series of intricate metal knots to form a metallic belt before then completely circling around and in front of his genitals to secure them firmly to his lower torso. The effect was to create a sort of obscene cage that fully entombed his crotch and rendered it cut off from his touch.

As he leaned farther upward the weight of this crisscrossed "metal jockstrap" pressed down on his manhood. He let his gaze drift down to take in this device. The harsh bindings of his genitals were a visible symbol of how the once arrogantly proud rebel prince had been tamed. Zantar felt the chains grow warmer under the light of the sun and, to his mortification, his cock responded to this heat by stiffening. A tingling itch arose in his loins. He blinked embarrassed that such erotic sensations should arise in him especially when his thoughts should be on escape and revenge yet, to his surprise, the chain's weight pressing on his growing erection felt arousing. As his impressive manhood gradually rose into its full height he unconsciously pushed his engorged rod up against the warm prison that tightly encased it. A wave of sensual heat flickered in his taunt body and a soft, barely audible, sigh of "uh" slipped from his mouth. His handsome features grimaced at what he had uttered still, his stiff cock ached for some release. The young twenty-six year old prince moved slightly letting the now hot links rub across the surface of his long thick twelve inch uncut cock. The tight chains pressed down harder on his own matching rigidity. To his further chagrin, Zantar discovered the sensations of being sexually up bound in this manner to be extremely stimulating.

He found himself wanting to touch himself and perhaps firmly grip his basket to increase the sensations that even now enfolded his mind to seize it and banish every other rational thought but, he decided not to reach down for fear the sensation wouldn't be the same if he moved his body into a different position. He slowly stretched upward and gingerly pushed his tapered waist forward. The hot metal rubbed sensually on the sensitized shaft of the muscled rebel. He experienced an uncontrollable bolt of arousal that caused him to jam his throbbing rod directly into the spaces of its linked prison. "Fuck," he groaned as the ribbed metallic links scrapped along his pole further stimulating him into a sexual heat. With a grunt of defeat he gave himself over to this growing need. A voice in him demanded he satiate this sexual hunger over any other consideration. Normally Zantar had discipline but at this moment he succumbed to the burning heat that flooded throughout his mind and body. His cock throbbed in happy reply to his surrender.

By now his urge to sexually climax took precedent to anything else in his brain. Hoping not to be observed from the cell window he subtly thrust his narrow hips forward and backward in a series of almost undetectable rocking motions that literally had him masturbating himself using rough scrapping of the links as the stimuli. Another almost inaudible sighing groan of, "oh yes," escaped from his full lips. His handsome strong facial features went slack and the telltale sign of his rising arousals was visible in the rapidly unfocused look that came to his icy blue eyes. Beads of sweat formed on his chiseled torso as the warmth of the sun and his rapidly increasing breathing over heated his now fully excited body. His short light brown hair clung to his damp skull while droplets of perspiration gathered between his defined pectorals to linger a second among the sparse matting of his chest hairs before continuing downward along his heaving ripped abdominals to follow his slightly darker honey-trail before slipping under the shackles of his belt. He began to hump harder into the chain strap that ground onto his raging hard-on. Soon, despite his resolve to be stoically quiet, he heard himself uttering a succession of animalistic grunts of "ugh" as he swayed his well-built torso into the bindings. As he pivoted his anal chute contracted causing a dull ache to rise from the area. A flickering recollection flashed into his mind of precisely who and what had caused this dull pain in his hole but by now, his need to ejaculate totally consumed him. On a deeper physiological level his "need" and the prior memory of what had been done to his rear end began to fuse as the pain emanating from his beefy rounded rump mingled with the sensuality of his activities. Indeed, though he did not consciously process it mentally due to his present aroused state, his rocking hip actions clearly mimicked how his lower body had similarly behaved during that defilement. His breathing increased and the muscles of his thighs rippled as he humped into his metallic cage. A guttural unintelligible gasp escaped from his full lips!

He was close now! A bolt of pain shot from his rear hole directly toward the base of his groin. His cock lurched in the tight confines and suddenly; with a strangled gurgling sound in his throat Zantar's manhood erupted. "Argh," he babbled out as his powerful muscled torso thrust forward into the metal links and then went rigid. He sensed his wet searing juices gushing from him. As they did he bit back his desire to scream even louder in pleasure. The chains on his rod grew wet with his spunk and then, it was all over. The world refocused as he fell back on his haunches and gulped in the warm day's air. The smell of jism on metal filled his lungs. He let his head fall onto his well-developed chest in humiliation at how he had behaved. He had never experienced such desires and abject submission to his urges before. For the first time in his young life he had just mentally, "yielded" to something more powerful. As he contemplated this mental admission he unconsciously let one of his powerful arms reach down so that his hand could caress the chains that oozed with his sticky spunk. The scent of his recent rutting filled his lungs like some intoxicating drug. His mind, still trying to process all the events of the last few days and especially his conduct in this moment, lost its focus. He squeezed his mound absentmindedly.

As he fondled his basket he, without fully realizing it, gingerly let another hand drift to his rear and, after some initial hesitations, he slipped a finger deeply between his full dimpled butt-cheeks to massage his still painful hole in order to hopefully give it some relief. Another tingling came into his cock as he gently rubbed his chute with the flat of his thumb. The combination of comfort and stimulation he was giving to himself by doing this was something he refused to acknowledge at first but, soon he had to admit it, he was turned on by what he was doing to his sphincter. He found his cock responding to his massage; with a groan he squeezed the chain coverings to maximize pressure on his growing erection. He wanted to stop this shameful activity but a rapidly increasing itch to once more "spent his juices" took hold of him.

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