"What will it take to loosen your tongue?"

As with all previous questions, this one was answered with silence. This test of endurance and resolve had only begun for our hero Achilles, as the high priest of the temple of Poseidon taunted him.

The Greek warrior had desecrated the temple, arriving on the shores of Trojan territory long before the rest of the Greek armada. Achilles and his Myrmidon fighters beached their ship and attacked the first building in sight - the temple, standing alone on a high hill overlooking Poseidon's waters. All had been destroyed - sacred documents, servants, worshipers and even the fearsome statue of Poseidon himself. But the high priest had survived by hiding like a coward in a secret compartment underneath the temple floor.

Now, Achilles belonged to him. He found himself chained to the wheel of woe, a 12 foot diameter, circular wooden frame. Achilles was suspended upright, with each wrist and ankle individually chained to the rim of the wheel. His body was helplessly stretched in the shape of an "X". All clothing had been removed except for the "V" shaped loin cloth, which barely concealed his masculine genitalia.

The priest continued his torment of the powerful man. "You must repent for your foul desecration. The mighty Poseidon sees all. He knows what you have done."

Achilles flexed his bulging chest in a manly pose of defiance, but still said nothing.

"Whip him."

The prisoner was struck with animal hide straps two inches thick, two from behind and two in front. Four Trojans - muscular, naked and drenched in sweat, mercilessly assaulted Achilles. Standing one on each side of the victim, the brutes viciously laid leather onto his back, chest, buttocks and belly. As one strap made contact with the backside, Achilles would react and arch his back, thrusting the chest forward and exposing it to a frontal assault. The leather was aimed at his pectorals, causing him to retract and curve the back in the opposite direction, there greeted by the third blow targeted for the lower back and buttocks. Flinching from this strike, Achilles thrust forward the pelvis, receiving the fourth whack into the center of his stretched belly.

The pattern established, Achilles arched forward and recoiled back, taking the four-strike cycle of blows again and again with manly resolve - never crying out, never begging for the punishment to stop.

The tormentors cast their stinging leather with ferocious strength and, although the straps were too wide to draw blood, red lines and welts began to form on the surface of the prisoner's skin. The intensity of the beating forced Achilles' pores to open and soon he was bathed in sweat, which highlighted the glorious muscles of his stretched and tormented body.

After countless cycles of savage whipping, the priest was certain of victory. "Enough!" he shouted and the beatings stopped.

Achilles now hung limp with his chin resting on the chest. He gasped for air and every inch of skin on his upper torso burned from the taste of leather. The priest resumed his interrogation.

"Now will you talk? Poseidon is ready to forgive you, but you must beg him for release."

Lifting his head, Achilles glared at his tormentor, flexed every muscle of his stretched and stinging body, then spit directly into the face of the priest.

Recoiling in disgust, the coward frantically wiped the lathered saliva from his face and eyes, then ordered the torture to resume.

As the cycle of blows began anew, Achilles closed his eyes, totally focused on withstanding this punishment. His mind drifted to recent events - of how he came to be captured and brought to this dungeon of suffering.

Achilles was a reluctant warrior, feeling that the cause of this campaign against Troy was over a private issue and the mighty Greek army was being exploited for the personal gain of one man - Agamemnon. Only with the persistent persuasion of his good friends Odysseus and Patroclus had Achilles joined the battle.

Once there, Achilles established himself as an unbeatable warrior. Among his other exploits, he captured 23 towns in Trojan territory, including the town of Lyrnessos, where he took the woman Breisis as his war prize. Agamemnon, the leader of the Greeks, was forced by an oracle of the god Apollo to surrender his war prize, a woman named Chryseis. As compensation for his loss, Agamemnon took Breisis from Achilles, enraging him beyond sanity.

Thus, Achilles refused to fight with the Greeks, abandoning his armor and wandering aimlessly about the rocks, caves and cliffs of Trojan territory. He was soul searching, attempting to prevent himself from killing Agamemnon, which he knew would throw the Greek armies into rebellion and chaos.

Alone, dazed and unarmed, Achilles was easily taken prisoner. The priest had tracked the man's every movement since the destruction of the temple to Poseidon and when he found Achilles vulnerable, he struck.

With ten volunteers - all strong, male disciples of Poseidon, the priest captured the Greek hero and took him to the Trojan controlled city of Dardanus, where now he is chained and tortured, but still unrepentant.

Achilles was awakened from his dream state by a commotion in the dungeon. The whipping of the leather straps stopped, as a stunningly armored Trojan warrior entered the room, followed closely by four soldiers. This man immediately raised his sword to strike the priest, who cowered on the floor at the man's feet.

"You fool! Did you think you could keep your prize a secret? You have captured the greatest Greek warrior ever to grace the battlefield, but you did not send for me? You are no Trojan. You are a traitor!"

The swift sword fell upon the head of the priest, splitting it open from the top to the chin, instantly killing him. Now, this man approached the chained prisoner.

"So, the mighty Achilles, we meet at last. I am Hector, son of Priam, the king of Troy. My questions will be of much more significance than the ramblings of a foolish priest. Tell me where you have sent your fierce Myrmidon warriors. They are the only ones we fear. Tell me and I will set you free. You and I will meet on the battlefield where we belong. Only here can two magnificent warriors honor the gods and do battle."

Suddenly, everything had changed. No longer was Achilles the prisoner of a fearful, superstitious disciple of Poseidon, but instead, a gallant warrior like himself - worthy of respect, even though an enemy.

"They are well hidden and no threat to you. They will not attack without my word."

"I do not believe you. They will grow weary of your absence and rejoin the battle. This we cannot allow. Where are they?"

"I will never tell you."

"I am sorry you have chosen this path, Achilles, but you leave me no choice."

The ten naked disciples of Poseidon knelt trembling before the Trojan prince, four of them still clasping the leather straps used for torture. One by one, Hector struck the four down with his sword, leaving six alive and at his disposal. Pressing them into his service, he ordered Achilles released from the wheel of woe, only to be placed on the alter of agony.

This was a smoothed stone pedestal standing four feet high. The top was five by five feet square, with two metal rings attached to chains, each containing four links imbedded into the stone.

Achilles was laid chest up on top of the pedestal and his wrists clamped into the metal rings. The ankles were then secured into metal rings attached to chains bolted to the floor, leaving his feet four inches above it. The edge of the stone pedestal made contact with Achilles' back just below the rib cage, which forced his chest to rise on top of the surface, while his stomach and belly hung over the side. Stretched tightly with his wrists flat on top of the pedestal and parallel to his neck, the only other body parts touching the stone were his head, shoulder blades and middle of the back.

The mighty chest rose high into the air, while the stomach and belly were stretched and flattened to capacity, draped over the side of the pedestal. Achilles gasped for air. His stomach dropped like a cliff at the end of the rib cage and, because of the forced compression on his diaphragm, it took every ounce of strength he could summon just to bring air to the lungs.

Hector approached. "Don't make me do this, Achilles. Tell me about your Myrmidon warriors."

With one mighty intake of oxygen, Achilles gave his answer. "I will never talk."

Standing on either side of the prisoner's hideously stretched belly, two of Hector's soldiers held wooden clubs, three inches thick at one end and tapering to a one inch diameter at the hand-held end. Alternating blows, they brutally swung the clubs at full velocity, driving them into the man's tightened gut - one from the left, another from the right.

Achilles filled his lungs with air and flexed the abdominal muscles with all his might, as the relentless pounding pulverized the vulnerable mid-section. Countless blows punished him, striking anywhere from the middle of his stomach to the lowest part of the belly just above the pelvic bone, but Achilles remained firm. Huge droplets of sweat flew in every direction from the powerful impact of the clubs, while the victim clenched his face and tightened the brick wall belly with incredible strength.

Having seen enough, Hector raised his hand and stood over the prisoner. Achilles valiantly exhaled and sucked in fresh air. His mighty chest rapidly expanded and retracted to bring rejuvenating, oxygen-rich blood to his tortured belly muscles.

"Why don't you talk? Your men have surely given you up for dead. They will not wait for you."

Between gasps, Achilles remained defiant. "I will... never... betray them."

"Then your suffering will continue."

Once again, the clubs pulverized this man's belly to a pulp. He tensed his solid abdominal muscles with amazing strength to receive the beatings, as the two men expertly drove the blunted wood home. They swung with all their might and Achilles began to emit manly groans and grunts.

Hector sensed victory was near, so he motivated the tormentors to intensify the torture. "Harder, men. Give him everything you've got!"

Ungodly thuds, grunts and groans echoed throughout the room. The men sent the clubs into his belly with such velocity, that the strap holding his loin cloth snapped, sending the small covering to the floor below.

Suddenly, both men stopped. The sight of Achilles' genitalia shocked and amazed, causing both tormentors to gasp and step back. Hector and all the others also stood motionless, wide-eyed with mouths agape.

All stared at the penis in wonder and awe, as they instantly knew this was a gift from the gods. Powerful, menacing, perfectly sized and shaped, everyone in the room was intimidated and overwhelmed by the mighty tool.

Achilles lay helplessly gasping for air, but sensed that something had weakened his interrogators. He felt the open air cooling his testicles and then he knew. His manly cock was a weapon to be used against them. Immediately he began to stimulate his mind with orgasmic thoughts, causing the heavenly organ to expand. Blood rushed into the penis and the glorious head soon protruded out of its foreskin. Once it was revealed, the tormentors again were taken aback.

Above all others, Hector was most impressed - and more than a little envious. He stood in a daze and stared at the phallus, hypnotized by the incredible strength and beauty of his prisoner's manhood.

Despite the agony of his horrendous stretching and nearly-broken back, Achilles felt the power of his magnificent cock, as it pointed forward horizontally and oozed pre-orgasmic fluid.

Healthy beads of it formed on the slit, increasing in size and weight, until thin strands started slowly dripping towards the floor. This mesmerized his tormentors even further, so he manipulated the tool, seeking to further intimidate his captors.

Achilles clinched his scrotum and caused the mighty phallus to lurch upwards. Holding it there for several seconds, he then relaxed and allowed the hardened spear to return directly horizontal. Achilles repeated this pattern again and again, flinging orgasmic ooze in all directions, while dangling his tantalizing cock in front of them as though a giant worm used for bait.

Hector began to lose control of himself. He had watched this powerful man endure unspeakable punishment with amazing strength and defiance - never begging for release, never crying out in surrender. Now, upon seeing the focal point of Achilles' manhood - gloriously potent and the purest form of masculine beauty, Hector desired to be a part of him. He wanted to ingest the seed of this magnificent warrior into his belly, incorporating its mesmerizing power into his very being.

He took the bait. Hector frantically removed his armor and clothing, then slavishly buried the incredible organ into his mouth. With no hesitation or fear, the Trojan prince took this intimidating tool as deep into him as it could possibly go - past the back of the throat and down the curve entering the portal to his esophagus.

The intense praise heaped upon the prisoner quickly brought the desired result and he released his sperm. But this was no ordinary man - his seed jettisoned from the powerful penis with such incredible velocity and volume, that the Trojan was violently cast off of the organ, choking, gagging and collapsing to the floor.

Humongous volumes of life-giving, manly sperm continued to fire from the amazing rod. Like magnets, each gob found Hector and pelted him, planting themselves into his hair and onto his face, while he helplessly gagged and gasped on the floor below.

Achilles smiled, knowing he had achieved a small victory. Using the only weapon available to him, he had thrown Hector off of his game. For one brief moment, his masculine superiority and strength had defeated the enemy and rendered him a useless rag, which caused the mighty cock to remain fully engorged despite being thoroughly drained.

Some of the soldiers and other men moved towards the penis, as they also wanted to taste this man's power, but Hector quickly recovered to order them aside. Now standing, he approached Achilles and leaned over the top of the pedestal, gazing into his prisoner's eyes.

"I beg you, Achilles. Don't make me torture you."

The Greek warrior was distracted by the glimmer of shining metal. As Hector had leaned over him while still naked, a medallion attached to his necklace dangled beside the prisoner's head. Achilles turned to look and instantly recognized the metal piece.

"Where did you get that medallion?"

"It was taken from a Greek."

"Who?"

"I don't know his name. He was wearing your armor. I thought it was you and was jubilant when I ran my sword through him. Then, I removed his helmet to see not Achilles, but an inferior warrior. My men stripped him and I kept this as my reward."

For the first time since his capture, Achilles cried out in anguish. The owner of this medallion was not some inferior Greek fighter, but Patroclus, the life long friend of Achilles. He himself had given Patroclus the medallion when they were children, a gift to his friend for victory in their wrestling match.

Overwhelmed with grief and sorrow, Achilles' anguished moans and screams reverberated throughout the room, seeming to nearly cause the stone walls to crumble.

Hector was confused and noticeably shaken by this outburst. "What is it? What is wrong with you?"

The prisoner's sorrow was quickly replaced by rage - anger at himself for abandoning his friends in the middle of the war, but more importantly, rage towards Hector for taking the life of his dearest friend and desecrating the body.

Soon, his anger knew no bounds. Every cell of blood began to boil and he struggled against the chains binding him. With incredible, other-worldly strength, the muscles of Achilles bulged to capacity, as he stretched the chains to the ends of endurance. Then, there was a snap. The chains imbedded into the pedestal cracked the stone surface and simultaneously broke loose from inside. Achilles' arms were free.

Hector and the other Trojans were dumbfounded. They stood mesmerized by this amazing feat of strength, sensing that the gods themselves were giving the man this power. With furious kicks forward, Achilles broke free the chains securing his ankles and soon both feet were released.

Immediately, he lunged for the sword of Hector and with a savage fury assailed the soldiers one by one. None of them managed to strike one blow against him before he cut them down and rendered them lifeless.

Now, he turned to the six naked tormentors, who were unarmed and defenseless. With no mercy or forethought, Achilles severed heads and limbs, spinning in frantic circles to hack anything in his path. Within seconds, Hector was the only Trojan left alive.

He stood motionless and defenseless, naked except for the medallion around his neck. Achilles approached him with sword in hand, gently removed the necklace from him and issued this declaration.

"You have taken the life of my dearest friend. You desecrated his body and disrespected him before the gods. For this you must pay - but not here."

Hector stood at attention to receive this challenge, not with fear, but with awe and respect.

Achilles continued. "I will fight you to the death. When the sun reaches the apex of the next full day, I will be at your city gates. Do not make me wait for you."

"Agreed."

Both men dressed and Hector escorted his foe outside the walls of the town. Then, they went separate ways to rejoin their armies.

They did fight to the death in one of the most gallantly displayed battles of Greek history. Achilles won the day and, just as had been done to his friend Patroclus, the body of Hector was desecrated before the gods. He stripped the corpse naked and dragged it behind his chariot for many hours, parading the heroic Trojan warrior before the outer walls of Troy itself.

He kept the body in his own tent with the army of the Greeks, until Priam, the king of Troy and father of the slain prince, secretly came to Achilles and pitifully asked for the body of his son. In one of the most moving events of the entire Trojan War, Achilles relented and received Priam graciously, allowing him to take his son's body for proper presentation to the gods.

As the Greeks fought the Trojans on the earth, the gods fought for each side from Mount Olympus. The god Apollo was again not kind to our hero Achilles and favored the other Trojan prince, Paris.

It was his arrow, guided by Apollo, that found the only spot of Achilles' magnificent body not protected by the waters of the sacred river Styx. Here, as an infant, Achilles' mother Thetis dipped him in the water, making every inch of him invulnerable except one - the heel from which his mother held him. Here is where the arrow struck. It was a wound from which the heroic warrior never recovered, so ending the life of the mighty Achilles.

The End

Copyright ©2005