The Torture of Paris

Paris was groggy when Menelaus and Agamemnon entered his prison the next morning. They had instructed the guards to force feed him some sleeping potion and the guards had obeyed their orders, however, not with a caress to Paris's cock and balls. The guards had wished they could fuck him senseless, but they knew that to do so would mean castration immediately by their kings. So they resisted, opting instead to caress their own heads and watch Paris moan in his sleep as they stroked his balls with their rough fingers.

"Well, well, look at our fine prize this morning!" Agamemnon crowed as they approached Paris, whose eyes were half-open and lidded heavily. "It seems our little potion worked."

Menelaus's lips curled back from his teeth to reveal an evil smirk of satisfaction. He glanced at Paris's half-erect cock and knelt on his knees in between the prince's spread legs. "What do we have here? It looks as though you've been having some fun without us!"

Paris glared at them both, not believing he had been yanked from Marishka's soft, comfortable bed and thrown down here, where it was freezing at night and hot as Hades in the daylight. He immediately sprang to attention as Agamemnon joined his brother on the floor and eyed their captive's hardened penis.

"Where is Marishka?!" Paris demanded, his heart thumping madly in his chest. If they had killed her, he would find a way to murder them both himself. No matter what.

"She is unable to come to you at the moment, my dear boy," Agamemnon jeered. "She has drank a dangerous poison. Oh, she's not dead, but she is gravely ill. She may die yet." The tone of his voice told Paris that he did not care for what the young princess's fate might be.

Paris's eyes filled with tears. Not his Marishka! He remembered her intense green eyes and the lovely fragrance of jasmine that emanated from her long black hair. She couldn't die! Why would she have attempted suicide? Perhaps she thought him dead.

"You vile bastards!" he spat, not caring about the sour looks they gave him. "You have forced her into death!"

"Shut up, Paris!" snapped Menelaus, backhanding the prince across the face. "Your insolence will not be tolerated!"

Still glaring, Paris spat blood onto the floor and shook his unruly russet curls out of his eyes. "I will kill you both for this one day. If not in this life, than in the next."

Agamemnon rolled his eyes. "Enough talk. You are not in a position to do anything to us, Paris, so I suggest you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut!"

"Besides, " Menelaus continued, "we come here to receive pleasure from you and nothing more." With that, he yanked a gag from his robes and stuffed it into Paris's mouth, tying it tightly around the back of his head. He could see the fire and anger burning in Paris's eyes and it only excited him more. He could feel himself hardening at the thought of his cock buried deep inside of Paris's still-virginal opening.

"You first, brother," Agamemnon said, seeing the lust in his kin's eyes. "I will gladly take seconds with this young man."

They were going to rape him again?! Paris began to struggle, his heart thumping a mile a minute as Menelaus disrobed, revealing his aching cock, dripping with pre-cum, bobbing excitedly as he situated himself between Paris's legs even closer to his body.

Lifting Paris's thin legs, he positioned his cock below Paris's body. The young man was now being held in the air by Menelaus, who did not seem to struggle with the light weight of the prince.

Before Paris knew what was happening, Menelaus lowered him onto his cock and Paris screamed into his gag as he was impaled by the large cock inside of his tight channel. It felt as if he were tearing in half as Menelaus emitted cries of pleasure. The tightness of Paris was making him see spots and he pumped harder.

Sweat ran down Paris's tanned face and he begged through his gag for Menelaus to stop, but to no avail. The king would not stop, short of death. He loved the feel of Paris's twisting, wrenching body moving up and down on his thick penis. He thought he would burst from the pleausure coursing through him.

Agamemnon watched the entire time, intensely stroking himself, but not allowing completion. That would have to wait until he had his turn with Paris. It wouldn't do at all to come now and miss his time inside of Paris's hole.

Paris was crying, the pain in his body so intense he thought he might be dying. It didn't help that Menelaus was lying on his back on the dirty floor, moving Paris up and down on his cock as it twitched and jerked inside of his body. Paris's cock was hard, but he had a feeling he would not be allowed completion.

Menelaus seemed to be coming to his end and, with a loud roar, he spent himself inside of Paris's body, the semen dripping onto the floor around him. Easing himself up and retying his robes, he set Paris down on his aching rear end on the cold floor. Chest heaving and eyes red and unfocused, Paris looked up to see Agamemnon approaching him. He would clearly receive no rest in between rapings.

"No...no...no," he plead through his gag, thrashing his head from side to side. "Please."

"Shut up!" Agamemnon roared, grabbing Paris's cock and squeezing hard. "You already are going to receive no release; I wouldn't compound your situation by pleading. We feel no mercy for you, let me assure you of that!"

Paris moaned at the unwanted pleasure that shot through his loins, almost killing the pain he felt from Menelaus's large cock. It felt as if it were still in there.

Agamemnon turned Paris around so he was now facing the floor with his arms still tied to the post in the middle of the room. Paris's backside was exposed to them all and both men felt the familiar arousal flushing their cheeks as they looked at Paris's channel, bloody and semen covered. And tight...still so tight.

Agamemnon knelt in between Paris's legs and spread them apart even further. This was most painful to Paris, whose cock was touching the floor, the cold surface rubbing against his sensitive head. He attempted to move to get some kind of friction to allow a release, but Agamemnon's hand found its way to his balls and began to knead the tender sacs. Paris's eyes rolled back into his head, but he became angered that his body was betraying him so.

Agamemnon plunged inside of Paris as suddenly as Menelaus did and he was rewarded with a loud cry of anguish from Paris's swollen lips. It felt as if a giant spear were embedded in his body. Agamemnon stopped suddenly and didn't move. It was excruciating for Paris as he tried desperately to wiggle against the cock inside of him but Agamemnon stopped his movements by continuing to massage his balls. The sensation shot through Paris and rendered him completely helpless to Agamemnon's ministrations.

Loud moans escaped Paris's mouth as Agamemnon finally, mercifully, it seemed, began to move inside of Paris's hot channel. His legs shook from the awkward position he was in and his arms were aching from being high above his head. He turned his face so that the side of it rested on the cold floor, giving him some relief from his sweat.

Agamemnon release quickly and then he stood up, wrapping his own robes around himself and joining Menelaus. Paris still lay on his belly, and he could feel the semen dripping out of his hold and onto the floor. And it was mixed with blood.

He closed his eyes and wanted to die, right then and there.

He was whipped around onto his back by Menelaus and his eyes grew big with fear when he heard Menelaus say:

"I think the soldiers need some release from their long day ahead."