The Torture of Paris

The two Spartan kings walked over to where their naked prize was lying, fast asleep, and unawares, on the bed. "Looks as though Marishka has been here," Menelaus sighed, observing the prince's nude, yet clean body. Paris was on his side with the blankets covering his body only up to his hips.

"We will lock the door tonight, brother," Agamemnon said, wishing Marishka was not royalty; then he could do as he pleased with her. But, she was and it would be a bad idea to attempt any sort of trickery on her. They would have to station a guard beside the closed and locked door that night.

Menelaus yanked the sheet away from Paris' body and he immediately began shivering, but did not awaken. He rolled to his back, putting his body in a prime position to the warriors. His cock lay flaccid and to one side of his body, still red from the welts but seemingly much better, which could be attributed to Marishka's care of him the previous night.

That would be well-remedied tonight. Agamemnon began to stroke Paris' cock, enjoying and delighting in the groans that issued from his mouth as he slowly opened his eyes. When he realized where he was and who was with him, he shrank in fear. "Don't touch me!"

Agamemnon rolled his eyes. "I think pleading is going to get you nowhere at this point, boy."

Menelaus, meanwhile, had produced a leather gag from a pocket of the long robe he was wearing. Grabbing Paris' wrists, he quickly tied them to the bedposts. It was very foolish of Marishka to leave them there. But he did not tie his ankles. Instead, he gathered up the bedsheets under Paris' body and rolled them into a tight ball. These he propped under the young prince's firm buttocks, exposing his rear hole and his stiffening cock and balls.

Now Paris' ass was exposed for anyone who might chance to wander into the bedchamber. The kings reached high above them to the ceiling and pulled down some manacles and chains. Paris didn't have to wonder what these were for. He began to twist his lower body violently in an effort to somehow dodge what was clearly inevitable.

His ankles were grabbed firmly in two large, rough hands, and the manacles were quickly wound round his ankles. The chains were cold and heavy, but Menelaus and Agamemnon adjusted them so they held Paris' legs up. He was so exposed this way; his rear entrance on display for all to see. The leather gag was stuffed into his mouth and Paris choked on it a moment before it was tied around his head in a tight knot behind his silky curls.

"We must teach this whelp the meaning of pain," Paris heard Menelaus say. He quaked in fear at what was going on behind his raised legs and still he fought to try to free himself. But he had been tied and manacled so tightly that it only caused his wrists and ankles to bleed.

Agamemnon approached the side of the bed, holding what looked like a leather switch. "You must be flogged into submission, you little slut. I'm sure this will feel mighty good on that firm ass of yours." He laughed as Paris' eyes widened in fear, the proceeded around to the end of the bed.

"No!" Paris screamed, his cries muffled by the leather gag in his mouth. "Please!" His cries went unheeded, as was expected, and he trembled with fear as he felt the switch caressing his buttocks, poking slightly into his rear entrance. The tight ring of muscle was not strong enough to keep out the insistent thing and Paris felt it entering him. He cried and pled and begged for mercy, but knew he would receive none.

The cold switch went up even further inside his body. They were searching for his sweet spot, he realized, so they could torment him even more. Hot tears ran down the sides of Paris' face as he sobbed into his gag, feeling only pain as he was poked and prodded inside. It hurt so much, like someone was tearing him apart. He wished Marishka would come in and rescue him, but his fervent glances towards the door yielded nothing.

Suddenly, the switch was withdrawn without ever touching his prostate. His cries stopped momentarily but became louder and more forceful when he felt the stinging of the switch on his bare buttocks. It felt like someone had lit a torch on his skin. He was hit again, each slap feeling worse than the one before it. He could hear Menelaus and Agamemnon laughing and heard his own sobs in his ears. The switch spanked him again and again. He could hear the snapping as it hit his tender flesh and drew back to lash him again.

Paris was screaming now, pleading for mercy that would not come. A few times the switch landed precisely between the cleft of his buttocks and it hurt like no pain he had felt before. He began to pathetically twist his body in the hopes that he could avoid the pain somewhat by dodging the stings but that only served to make it worse.

His skin was on fire and the switch was hitting the backs of his legs as well. He knew he would have welts there aplenty, just as he had welts on his penis from the bees yesterday. The slapping continued for what seemed like hours but could only have been moments. Paris' sobs were the only noises to be heard in the room and he was yanking at his wrist bonds unknowingly, causing them to cut and chafe and the blood dripped down his arms.

He could feel his ass burning and twitching underneath the switch, which had not miraculously been broken yet, it seemed they were hitting him that hard. And laughter sounded throughout the room now. Laughter at this pathetic prince and his pathetic cries for mercy and clemency. Ignored.

The switch hit against his already-swollen body more and more until Paris just could do nothing but scream and cry as he was smacked and stung time after time. His flesh was twitching and burning and he could only imagine how red he was. Huge welts no doubt covered his ass and even the cleft between the globes of his butt.

After what seemed like hours, the switch stopped smacking him and he didn't know whether to sigh with relief or worry about what was in store for him next. Knowing these two evil men, it could be practically anything and he found himself shivering with fear at what could possibly be done to him now.

"I think he is ready," commented Menelaus to his brother. Paris was only able to move his legs a few inches apart. And he saw them getting undressed. This was why they had entered his room wearing only robes: they wore nothing underneath them. He was going to be raped after just having been flogged.

Struggles renewed and Paris pulled at his bonds as much as he could, ignoring the pain and the blood that ran down his limbs. He could not let them rape him. His opening was so small and from what he could see, Menelaus and Agamemnon were well-endowed and they would surely tear his tender body asunder.

The tears pooled fresh at the corners of his eyes and his heart thumped wildly in his chest. This could not happen to him. He was royalty. And then it hit him: he was not royalty any longer. He was nothing to these men but a personal sex slave for them to do their own wanton bidding with. This was what stealing Helen had cost him. His pride and his self-worth would be chipped away by these two evil men until he was nothing but a groveling pathetic man.

His legs were held apart so that Menelaus could run his fingers up and down Paris' hot cock, stroking the flesh that began to grow rigid between his large fingers. Paris tried so desperately to get his body not to disobey him, but he could not control the way that his dick rose up and touched his taut belly, smearing the pre-cum over his abdomen. His face burned in mortification as his member was toyed with like some possession of theirs.

But he could not force his body to ignore what was happening to him. His balls were being massaged and Paris moaned at the streams of pleasure coursing through his body. Though unwanted and provoked, nonetheless, his balls tightened and his penis grew even larger. Paris was well endowed to begin with and aroused he grew even larger. Menelaus and Agamemnon were moaning now as they stroked themselves and Paris at the same time. Paris gasped through the gag in his mouth and then he felt a finger invading his opening.

The hands left his cock, painfully aroused and jutting upwards to his stomach. They were at the end of the bed now, probing deep inside of him with hard, calloused fingers, scissoring the tender flesh and making Paris cry out in pain. Hands moved over the welts on his ass, holding him still as he struggled. The welts seemed to be afire and Paris felt the tears leaking out of his eyes and mixing with the sweat on his face. He was saturated with sweat by now, his damp curls sticking to his face and hanging in his eyes. He shook his head to get them out but only succeeded in making sweat drip into his dark eyes.

The fingers continued to invade him and poked around until they found the sensitive bunch of nerves inside of his body that would make him a helpless, moaning creature. Sobbing loudly now from both arousal and pain, Paris nearly came off the bed, bonds and all, when he felt the finger bumping his prostate. His cock grew even larger and he watched as the fat head of it leaked semen out of the slit and covered his dick, dripping downwards to his tight balls.

The finger continued to flick his prostate and Paris threw his head back and let out a long, almost animal-like cry. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. And he knew there would be much more to come. Menelaus and Agamemnon, meanwhile, were having a great time stroking themselves with one hand and fingering Paris' virginal ass with the fingers of the other hand. He knew they both had their hands inside of him and he twisted and turned as best he could on the bed.

Fingers were removed suddenly and Paris knew it was going to happen. He tried to squeeze himself shut but to no avail. They had opened him up to receive whatever they might decide to stick up his ass. His skin glistened with sweat and tears and the semen leaking from his head dripped down his sides to land on the bed and make him cold, wet, and uncomfortable.

Agamemnon had somehow decided he was going first and he stood up on the bed, looking between Paris' spread legs at the helpless young prince in front of him. "I think you will rather enjoy this, Paris," he sneered, taking his thick, weeping cock in one hand and opening Paris up with the other. But before he could do anything, Menelaus moved to Paris' side and slipped a cock ring around his thick penis, making sure he could not achieve release anytime soon.

Paris cried out loudly and felt the cold ring keeping all his semen inside. It hurt so badly and his balls were tightening all the while. Agamemnon's dick probed the outside of his anus, and then thrust in roughly without warning. The scream that erupted from Paris could probably be heard throughout the palace. It felt as if he was so full and his ass did nothing to help expel the penis that was inside of him. It was large and Paris could feel how it plowed into him with no regard for his comfort or satisfaction. Agamemnon was going to take what he could get and plunder and hurt Paris the whole while.

He could feel the tip touching his sensitive spot and felt white waves of pleasure combined with the aching pain in his balls and cock. It felt almost good to have his prostate being stroked like this but at the same time, his wide open ass was aching and throbbing where he had been violated.

Agamemnon settled inside of him for a moment, then began to move, brushing up against Paris' already-sensitive prostate with each movement he made. It was almost more than the young man could take, as Menelaus simply stood there watching him being raped. His face burned with mortification and he didn't even care he was crying and begging for them to stop. His own cock stood proudly out, though it was now turning purple with the cock ring restraining his release.

His balls were so tight he could feel the pain they caused, but also the wonderful pleasure in having been this aroused. He felt t Agamemnon moving and brushing up against his gland. It was the strangest mixture of pleasure and pain that he ever could have thought would happen to him. Agamemnon was moaning loudly.

"Hurry up, brother," Menelaus said impatiently. "I want to have my turn with him."

A knot formed in Paris' stomach as he realized that he would no doubt be taken again and again by these two foul men with their ideas of torture and infliction of pain. Agamemnon did not seem to heed his brother's warnings and his imploring and kept moving inside of Paris as though it were just the two of them in the room.

Wails of pain broke from Paris' powerful lungs as it began to just hurt him now. There was no more pleasure involved and he could feel the blood dripping out of his body. He had been torn so much that he now bled. It was hurting him so badly, this giant cock moving in and out of his body.

Just when he thought he might bleed to death, Agamemnon stopped and achieved his release inside of Paris. The hot semen intermingled with the blood leaking out of Paris, dripping onto the bed and down to the floor. Paris felt filthy, disgusting and most of all, ashamed at the blatant violation that had just taken place.

Now, it was Menelaus' turn and he was definitely not going to give Paris any time to compose himself. He knelt on the bed before the young man and took his own cock to Paris' messy entrance, laughing at how tight Paris still was, even though he had just been raped. "Look how filthy he is, brother. He's just begging for more. The Whore of Troy, no longer the Prince of Troy."

Anger suddenly filled Paris' soul as he heard himself being degraded in this manner. He resumed his struggles but a sharp smack to his cheek made him cry out with pain as Agamemnon smacked him as one would a small child who has just cursed or said something truly vile.

"Try anything again, boy, and I'll smack that tight little ass of yours. I'm sure that would feel very good against your welts, now wouldn't it?" the king rasped in his ear, standing beside him. He noticed Paris' nipples, dark little round pieces of flesh against his golden bronze skin and reached over to yank on the one closest to him. Paris cried out loudly as his tender skin was pulled and tugged at by Agamemnon's unyielding hands.

Menelaus thrust in suddenly as his brother had done and Paris heard the scream come from his mouth. Menelaus was even larger than his brother and Paris could feel himself tearing even more with this new intrusion. It felt as if a white hot poker were being shoved up his ass and he saw stars as the king immediately began to move within him. The thrusts were hard and fast, jabbing at Paris' prostate with precision, making his cock swell even more and his balls tighten painfully against his body. Meanwhile, Agamemnon continued to play with his dark nipples, turning the little round nubs into hardened points.

The tears were still pouring down Paris' face and he knew he was bleeding even more than he'd already been bleeding. No one seemed to care, though. The ache in his ass was fast becoming an insistent stinging pain as Agamemnon moved to cover Paris' mouth with his. This was the first time either of the two rulers had tried to kiss Paris and he felt revulsion as the king's lips closed over his. He tried to move his head away but to no avail. Agamemnon's tongue swept inside Paris' mouth and all that could be heard from Paris were soft moans of protest.

The young prince felt so good, his tongue on Agamemnon's while the king's hands played with his hard nipples. No one cared about the pain that Paris was experiencing so long as they got their pleasure off of the young boy. Menelaus continued to move within Paris hot, warm body, stroking the backside of his thighs and marveling at how tight and wonderful Paris felt closing in on his erection.

Menelaus finally came to his end, shooting his own load inside of Paris' body, leaving the young prince filthy from the mixture of semen and blood on his ass and the sweat that clung to every crevice of his body.

Pulling out, Menelaus came around to join Agamemnon beside the shivering, naked prince on the bed. They both laughed when they saw how aroused he was but made it plain and clear to him that they had no intention whatsoever of removing the cock ring. Paris realized he would have to beg and plead for release and his still-proud heart would not allow it, no matter how much pain he was in.

His cock was as thick as it could probably get and was still smearing semen over his flat stomach, leaving a sticky trail against his bronzed skin. His nipples were small pebbles, extremely aroused and just waiting to be touched, poked and prodded. Sweat glistened in every crevice of his body and his legs were still up in the manacles, hanging from the ceiling. Blood coupled with semen leaked from his ass and dripped down the bed to fall onto the floor.

"Call a servant and have him untied. I think it's time our brothers had a look at this."