Previously



Previously -3683029337000Jase had been a devoted fan of his Uncle Bob since forever. Not his real uncle. A family friend, buddy of Jase’s Pop. Both Special Forces operatives. Pop never brought work home. Jase never got to know what he’d been up to when he returned home from a mission. But there had to have been mishaps. Plans did not always turn out right. But never a word was spoken. Which only made the teenage Jase more curious. That silence only aroused his imaginings.“Uncle Bob” was Jase’s role model. More than anyone else in the world, Jase wanted to look like him. Those hard-packed bulging shoulder muscles.. The flat stomach rippling with a ten-pack of steel. What young guy couldn’t want to look as great? The breadth of that back, plated with iron. If only …. Uncle Bob was Jase’s teenage goal.It was Uncle Bob’s physique that kept Jase going in the gym when his body was screaming for him to stop. Uncle Bob wouldn’t stop, Jase knew, he’d never let exhaustion fail him. Uncle Bob would keep pushing at the limits. Jase soooo wanted to be as tough-minded as his Uncle Bob.Was that a betrayal of his Pop? That Jase ached to be like his Pop’s friend and not like his old man? But Jase’s hero-worship went beyond gym inspiration. He’d spent teenage years ploughing his way through action-comics. And every comic-hero had fused into his idol. Pop’s friend had evolved into Jase’s own comic-book action-hero. Tough motherfuckers like his own Uncle Bob tackling the insurmountable. Those comic-heroes came up against ferocious foes, faced ruthless treatment. Conan got nailed to the Tree of Woe. Kull faced the threat of the branding irons. In Jase’s day-dreams, Uncle Bob had stared those threats down. Wasn’t it a son’s natural unwillingness to think of his own Pop under that kind of duress? Was that why Jase had switched his admiration to Uncle Bob? Because for Jase Uncle Bob was the mother of all motherfuckers. It was out of admiration that Jase's imagination wanted to see Uncle Bob put to the test, tortured. Not to be broken. To admire how he endured. To hero-worship the guy that nothing could break. Jase had imagine him ferociously Interrogated. Pushed to the limits of human endurance. And he knew .. Jase was convinced … whatever evil actions Jase’s fantasies threw at Uncle Bob …. his role model would come out of his ordeal stronger for it. The experience hadn’t broken him. And Uncle Bob was all the mightier. That would be something that Jase would want for himself.Jase was no longer a drooling kid. He’d put his teenage years behind him. He was in college. He still had some way to go to match his role model. But with hard work and bloody-minded dedication .. his studies at Physical Science …. Jase was determined to develop a physique worthy of his admiration for Uncle Bob. No longer a kid. But fantasising had become a way of life. When Jase hadn’t got some cheerleader eager to join him in bed …. a strong grip on himself took Uncle Bob through Jase’s imaginary exploits. His hero’s encounters with rough treatment still pleasured Jase’s hand. That fantasising about putting his hero through situations of extreme distress had become a habit. And it was never a chore.Recently the thought had crept into his mind …… If Uncle Bob under duress… tortured, beaten, interrogated …. if that so pre-occupied his mind ….. was Jase wondering how he himself would cope? Was he wishing those ordeals on himself? Would Pop take it as a compliment if Jase followed him into the military? Exposed himself to the same manly risks? But it would be the model of Uncle Bob that would get Jase through Hell Week. When Jase had got himself the Greek-god-statue look of his role model .. if Jase himself had to face the same exacting demands of his idol ….. .. the things that Uncle Bob took on .. part of his everyday pattern of risks …... was Jase wondering whether he himself was actually up to it? Was Jase willing on himself those same tribulations? To test himself. Whether he himself was worthy of his hero? To find out if Jase endured like the guy he hero-worshipped? Contents TOC \h \u \z HYPERLINK \l "_Toc60388554" Previously PAGEREF _Toc60388554 \h 2The Captive PAGEREF _Toc60388555 \h 5Perfect PAGEREF _Toc60388556 \h 6Raiding PAGEREF _Toc60388557 \h 9The escape PAGEREF _Toc60388558 \h 12The Ritual PAGEREF _Toc60388559 \h 15Candidates PAGEREF _Toc60388560 \h 16Ritual PAGEREF _Toc60388561 \h 19Chosen PAGEREF _Toc60388562 \h 22The Bride PAGEREF _Toc60388563 \h 25Scrutiny PAGEREF _Toc60388564 \h 26Donor PAGEREF _Toc60388565 \h 29Implants PAGEREF _Toc60388566 \h 32Conflict PAGEREF _Toc60388567 \h 35Lusts PAGEREF _Toc60388568 \h 39The Deity PAGEREF _Toc60388569 \h 42Wasted PAGEREF _Toc60388570 \h 43Weighty thoughts PAGEREF _Toc60388571 \h 47The Pit PAGEREF _Toc60388572 \h 51Suspense PAGEREF _Toc60388573 \h 54Baalok PAGEREF _Toc60388574 \h 57Prospects PAGEREF _Toc60388575 \h 1end PAGEREF _Toc60388576 \h 2The CaptivePerfectThey'd been rough with him. But only as much as needed. He'd have been rougher on them given half the chance. All the time on this river journey, he'd been planning. They'd have to release him from their craft, they'd have to free him from these ropes. Once they'd beached their craft, he'd time his moment right. Did they really think he'd come passively? They'd tricked him, they'd taken him prisoner, for no reason anyone explained. And they'd allowed him a day tied up in their craft to fume. Once untied, it had taken him all his control not to lash out at the first instant. But he waited. Alert for the best moment.He thought he'd fooled them, he'd offered no resistance. Going quietly. Then he struck, unexpectedly. Three men guarding him. Plus that young leader of theirs who'd betrayed him. An elbow to the gut and a hard shove bowled the nearest guard over. WildWolf had grabbed his club already. The second had to swerve out of the way fast. The club coming straight for the top of his skull. There could be no messing around.WildWolf had no idea where the blow came from. He didn't know someone was behind. A massive blow to the back of his neck threw him forward. The guy whose head he'd been about to cave in threw out a leg, tripping him up. A second ferocious blow to his backbone drove all the wind out of him. He nearly blacked out.Stunned, WildWolf’s brain was aware he was being dragged by the arms. But his body wasn’t finding the strength to fight himself free as they dragged him half-lifeless across the floor of some cave. A cage was opened and he was thrown in. He'd under-estimated these men. They'd not mistreated him, they'd used minimum force. But they had worked effectively on him together. Unusually, they'd turned the tables on him .. and in a flash. A fact he'd have to bear in mind for the next time.WildWolf looked across the cage and glared at the speaker on the other side. He couldn't see there was much to smile about. He scowled."I reckon we're in the clear, guys," the other guy joked.It had taken some time for WildWolf to come back to himself. And the other four guys in the cage with him hadn’t come to help. They’d shown no interest in him. Head still thumping, he asked aggressively what-the-fuck this was all about. The talkative one had explained. Cynically WildWolf had scoffed at the idea. And the other guy just nodded to the others grinning at WildWolf."This one's just made for the job. We're off the hook, I reckon."The three others in the cage gave him a happy-hearted grin."Baalok, they say, likes them spirited."He gave a poor imitation of WildWolf's protestation."No one's making a human sacrifice of me!"Good-naturedly he grinned at the scowling WildWolf."I reckon that's not up to the likes of us. SHE decides."WildWolf looked away. Again his eyes went over the iron cage in which the five of them were housed. He'd already tested it for its strength. But with this news of a sacrifice he got up and tried the bars again. And discovered there was no way of breaking free. The warning from that man opposite still rang in his ears. He’d demanded to know what the hell they had brought him here for. The guy on the cage had enlightened him. Human sacrifice. What had he got caught up in?Once a month a raising party went out, he was told .. five candidates were brought back. Men in their prime, good workers, well built. One was selected, honoured to be offered in sacrifice to their god Baalok. The four reprieved then stayed a month providing services to the temple. With the arrival of the next month's batch, they were freed to return to their homes. The one selected, the CHOSEN ONE, was long since dead.Apparently, a spirited aggressive sucker like WildWolf was just the kind that went down well. He was prime for getting selected for that honour of being sacrificed to their god. Over his dead body!"And you accept this?" WildWolf was surprised at the men's lack of backbone .. mildly accepting this as their fate. "You don't fight back?"The men had frowned."Baalok brings us rain. His magic makes the crops grow.”The talkative one explained passively.“The cattle are fertile. Baalok brings us prosperity. One man sacrificed for the greater good. Since the Snake-Men arrived, it was ever so."It was WildWolf's frustration at their lethargy that had brought out that outburst. And he'd meant it. No one made a human sacrifice out of him. RaidingJase couldn’t exactly say when his own original bedfellow-hero emerged into the birth. In time, in his fantasizing, exposing his comic-book heroes to ever more exacting duress in ancient and violent times, in the privacy of his bed they had fused into his own original hero. WildWolf.As a kid, Jase had devoured his action comics. They gave him a taste for what became a permanent and secret pleasure to his life. Reading over and over those dog-eared copies of Kull fighting for survival against cruel enemies who ached to deny him just that. Sticking back together again his beloved copies of a lawless Conan falling into torturing hands. He couldn’t get his hands early enough on the latest publications with Thor and other fantasy heroes. Finally, these heroes of his fantasies merged. WildWolf was born out of their wildness. Muscled, tough, ferocious and wild, WildWolf was everything his other comic-book heroes were. He was a dead ringer for Uncle Bob, too .. no coincidence. Over time Jase put WildWolf to the test in ever-more exacting conditions. Like his fantasies with his Uncle Bob, there was nothing Jase wouldn’t inflict on his own personal hero. And yet, amazingly WildWolf always won through. Wouldn’t Uncle Bob?He never set out to crush his hero. Defeat was not the point. Jase was exploring the resilience of the men he admired .. and Uncle Bob was always at the pinnacle. The character of the tough-guy enduring the near-unbearable. But to find that fine line .. between still enduring and suffering the inevitable .. Jase found himself twisting the screw ever tighter. What happened when his hero .. Uncle Bob or WildWolf .. when they were faced with the unbeatable? When there was no way out … What then?Jase had spotted the stranger earlier, scouring the town for suitable candidates. On first sight, Jase was convinced. He had a nose foe this. He’d sent one of his men to keep an eye on him. He was camping down by the river, he was told. Hardly coincidentally, Jase ordered his men to make camp for the night there too. When Jase saw the target heading off for a piss, he wandered off in the same direction. And, as men do at times like that, he’d struck up a conversation. In his mind, Jase could not imagine anyone better to suit his goal. As leader of the temple guard, he was again on his monthly search. He knew what he was looking for and this stranger exactly fitted the bill. Jase was experienced in tracking down the kinds of men who were chosen for sacrifice. He knew precisely the kind of men SHE went for. The physique .. broad hard chest, muscular arms, flat muscled belly, back defined with hard muscle ….. this guy was right up HER street. When finally those rugged good looks were revealed …. They wouldn’t go down bad either. Perfect for the job. In the guise of WildWolf, in the fantasy times that rugged tough-guy inhabited, Jase would grab all the means he had for pushing his hero Uncle Bob to the limit. Searching out that elusive tipping point.Jase’s ideal CHOSEN ONE accepted his invitation. You alone, Jase asked as they pissed? We bought in at the market. Got roasted goat. Interested? Why spend hours hoping to catch a fish to eat? Not when their goat fat was already sizzling over their fire. And you tried the spirits they brew here? Fiery. A real man’s brew. An evening in the company of like-minded men with stories to tell. What’s not to like? And flagons of strong liquor to wash down the meat. The stranger was up for it.WildWolf sensed something was wrong when his head started to swim. He'd had plenty to drink. But so had the others. It was good stuff, knock-out strong. They'd all been knocking it back. But the other men were still laughing and joking with him, swapping stories of adventures and women bedded.Suddenly his head went into a spin. Too late he realised he was passing out. He'd blacked out before his head hit the ground. And the other men rushed over to bind him firmly.His head would not recover. It couldn't make sense of what was happening. His head thumped. His neck was cold, wet. He was moving forward .. strange jerky movements. It was dark, only a strong moon lit up the blackness.He was bound. On his back, rope around his throat kept him pinned down. His hands too. By his side, tied so he couldn't move them. He pulled to stand up, his feet wouldn’t move, he felt something around his ankles. Bound with coarse rope. A surge of spirit drove fire into his brains. He pulled, he tugged, he fought to break himself free.He yelled out in anger. He knew they’d taken him prisoner, the guys he’d been drinking with. He bawled at them to tell him why. Confused, bleary-eyed, he looked to one side. He feared the worst. Three men were paddling a canoe. On the other side too, more men. The men he’d been boozing with. A set-up, they’d drugged him. He recognised the young man who'd invited him to supper. Yelling at him, young, strong muscular body on him … he saw the guy drive his paddle into the water with strong flowing moves, in perfect unison with the others in the canoes.WildWolf was stretched out on a platform strung between the two canoes. The river flowed beneath, splashing him as the canoes were powerfully paddled down the river?"What's going on? What the meaning of this?"He'd been drugged. He’d been taken captive. They’d tricked him, they'd been feeding him spiked drink all evening. Angrily he pulled and tugged at his bonds. He felt his struggling unbalancing the canoes a little. Jase and his men paid the captive little regard, though. They had this every month, no surprise. They drove powerful strokes into the dark water. Ignoring his cursing. Unmoved by his struggling. Six well-built warriors, ploughing their paddles in perfect unison, driving their canoes through the ink-black water. On a mission to return with the perfect sacrifice. Jase had him captive, illuminated in the light of HER sacrificial moon. The escape0635With the arrival of the stranger Jase had brought in, the monthly complement was reached. Selection could begin. Jase saw his stranger glaring at him through the bars of the cage. To be expected, a spirited action-hero didn’t take well to capture and this unexplained incarceration. Could he even guess at what Jase had in mind for him? One thing Jase could be sure about, this stranger would give difficulties, he’d do his best to fight himself free. But that wasn’t an option for him. The other four candidates in the cage were now also-rans. His selection was a foregone conclusion. So Jase had come well prepared. The five temple guards who’d captured Jase’s nominated CHOSEN ONE were stood-by, ready for anything."One at a time."His men stopped the candidates from rushing out and making a break for freedom. Most likely to try, Jase's CHOSEN ONE. And that was the one Jase did not intend to lose. He was a perfect match. Jase was determined he’d not be given a chance. He knew his character, he knew Uncle Bob's skills. In the guise of WildWolf, he’d be the same. And Jase was equally determined that his CHOSEN ONE should not evade his shock fate. The first one out of the cage set the pattern, was made to show what to do. The trap-door was low, he had to come out on his hands and knees. Stopped in the entrance to prevent the others from breaking free, his hands were bound together and temple guards led him away.Jase’s CHOSEN ONE was the third out. He'd seen what happened. Jase knew he'd have made his plans. Still bent coming out of the trap-door, suddenly he launched forward. Fast and with force. Deftly his skull dealt a crippling blow into the groin of a temple guard, winding him. The CHOSEN ONE was on his feet before any could blink. In a flash another warrior had taken an elbow in the nose. Another was brusquely barged aside tripping over his own feet. The CHOSEN ONE was rushing for the entrance to the cave.Jase had stationed his giant there. How soon the CHOSEN ONE spotted the barrier to freedom in the gloom was hard to say. Jase's giant had been ready for him, though. His massive breadth almost blocked the exit. The CHOSEN ONE had to go through him to make good this escape.Jase saw him hesitate, a slight slowing down. He had just spotted the muscled mountain blocking his way to freedom. Spear held almost casually in two hands in front of him. The CHOSEN ONE had to evaluate his chances fast, in a split second he needed to come up with a plan. Whether he had .. or whether WildWolf’s temper was just going for it .. Jase couldn't tell. But that split-second hesitation was fatal. The sight of that human blockage denying him the outside … it had taken an instant too long to decide. From behind, a guard threw himself at the CHOSEN ONE, he wrapped his arms around his legs and both dashed hard into the rock floor. A moment later, a second warrior ploughed in in top.The CHOSEN ONE was a fighter, he was not giving up. He was a skilled fighter, athletic. In the blink of an eye he was in his feet throwing punches at his attackers, kicking out at them. One got in a retaliation. Knocking the CHOSEN ONE backwards. Unsuspecting, he was being backed up against the giant. Unseen, massive arms wrapped around his chest. Before he knew it the CHOSEN ONE back was crushed to the giant's chest. The man-mountain squeezed. He crushed the fight out of any escape. Again he gave a massive squeeze. Arms bone-breakingly crushed tight around his ribcage .. squeezing the stranger’s muscular back helpless a monstrous giant front.Effortless, the giant lifted his victim up off the ground. He squeezed. The CHOSEN ONE tried to struggle but his face was contorted with the pain. His legs flailed around helplessly. But it took no effort for the guards to secure his hands.Once secured the giant dropped his victim to the ground. He reeled, his legs wobbly. Without pausing for breath, the giant swung his arm out. His forearm slammed across hard-plated might of the CHOSEN ONE’s chest. He crumpled, he flew. The CHOSEN ONE was knocked off his feet. A bawl of pain painting the air. Landing with a hard thud on his back onto the rock floor. Knocking the wind out of him.Jase had known this nominated CHOSEN ONE would make a break for it. Like his Uncle Bob, he was the type to try something on. But who'd been better prepared? The RitualCandidatesWildWolf was still getting his senses back as they yanked him out of the cave, his escape attempt foiled by that mountain of a man. And still the giant accompanied WildWolf out. Hands-free, it’d been impossible. Nervously he eyed the formidable brutish strength. One single blow into his chest had robbed him of all his wind. And the might of that strike had him worried. With his hands bound, a warrior yanked him forward … and with that monstrous brawny might breathing down his neck … WildWolf admitted he didn’t stand much of a chance. For now.He was bundled none-too-friendly out of the cave by two of the angry guards he'd shown up. They were not going to allow anything like that to happen again. Wrists tightly tied with leather cord, yanked by his arms. And their giant on his back. No escape route out of this mess. Yet.Jase saw his CHOSEN ONE lift his head and pause at the sight awaiting him. A circle of five sturdy stakes set out in a ring. The two candidates who’d been brought out from the cage were already set up. Backs to a stake, hands tied above their heads. And a sack over their heads to preserve anonymity.He hesitated, curious at the sight. But his escort was not having any more trouble. Jase saw one yank on his leash, the other dug his grip into the hard-packed muscle of his upper arms and shoved him forwards into the ring. Was Jase’s CHOSEN ONE still intimidated by the crushing power of bear-hug that had left him gasping for breath? Was he going to try anything else on with that giant gripping on to the scruff of his neck? As the men roughly twisted him around and, hands pushing on his injured ribs to back him up against the stake, Jase did not miss the wince of pain. But no, the fighter in him was not so easily suppressed. Jase was pleased to see the resurgence of spirit when he thought his hands were going to get even more disabled. That was what Jase recognized in the guy. It was not just that shredded physique and knotted muscle that made him Jase’s nominated sacrifice. He had guts. He’d been winded, the might from that blow from the giant had sent him flying. Yet he didn’t lie down.He struggled when a guard started tying his hands to the stake above his head. He wriggled, squirmed, his knee kicked out. The guard was having difficulty to secure him to the stake. But Jase's giant soon settled him. Jase saw the look of concern from his CHOSEN ONE when the giant loomed over him and decidedly pushed his back up to the stake. He tried to free this bound hands to fight him off but the others already had them secure, out of the way above his head. A massive hand totally enfolded the CHOSEN ONE's throat. It closed. A giant forearm knotted as it squeezed on the windpipe. It took no effort to lean forward and crush the neck into the post. And cut off the CHOSEN ONE's air. He tried to struggle, his head swished from side to side. But there'd be no shaking of that crushing hold. Desperation entered into the eyes. He couldn't breathe. Had the realisation dawned, there'd be no way of taking a single breath till the giant’s grip allowed it?Hands were secured above his head, feet were tied firmly either side of the post .. before the giant released his grip. Convulsions shook the muscled frame they’d tied inescapably to the stake. Ears burning, red in the face, the CHOSEN ONE was noisily heaving in air. The giant gripped his hair in his hand. He lifted his face. And gave the candidate a punishing slap across the face. The sound of the slap zipped across the courtyard to Jase. A bellow of pain cut the sound short. The candidate’s face tore to one side, his body twisted under the force. His legs slumped under the power of that blow, stunned. He was in no position to give the temple guards any more trouble putting the hood over his head. RitualWhat did he have to be thinking? After his attempt to make a run for it had failed. After he had seen the might thrown up again him? The giant. Any punch WildWolf threw at him was water off a duck’s back. One blow from that hammer fist could break a man’s back. What was going through his head?Jase viewed him, stood, his back sweating against the stake, tense, listening through the bag over his head. He thought he had heard the other two men brought out from their cage. The others seemed passive, they'd accepted their lot. As that man in the cage had explained at WildWolf's frustrated outburst …. What was one man’s sacrifice against the greater good? Not an idea that appealed to him at all.But WildWolf cared nothing about their god, he didn't worship their deity. Baalok, he’d said. Never heard of him. And he certainly wasn’t going to be his sacrifice. That giant had foiled his escape. But WildWolf would try again. None of the other men had resisted by the sound of it. That reminded WildWolf of that man's taunt. Their god Baalok liked his sacrifices "spirited". Had WildWolf's attempt to escape .. had his resisting when the men were pinning him to this stake .. had WildWolf already sealed his fate? But he stuck with his pronouncement. No one was making a human sacrifice out of him. He'd fight them back. Every inch of the way.He jerked when a drum started up. A regular thud of a stick against a deep sounding drum. Quickly a second drum beat joined in. A third too. This one sounding a hard thump every fourth beat. Behind, in unison, WildWolf heard men's voices join in. A chorus of deep manly forces. A wordless grunt in time to the fourth beat. The voices started moving. Moving around the circle of stakes, behind WildWolf. He imagined male warriors pounding out a dance in a ring around the candidates. Circling them with strong manly voices. Prowling. Pounding out the beat. Another sound joined in. A hard thud. Again in time to the thud of the men's fourth beat. Like the men were stomping a foot in time to the beat?Powerful drums pounded out the beat. Strong men's voices encircling the circle of stakes. Like weaving an inescapable net around the intended victims. Despite himself, WildWolf could not suppress a growing sense of menace. On and on the mysterious stomping went, circling behind him. Unseen, threatening. Loud and forceful the male grunts. Around and around the circle of helpless men tied inescapably to their stakes. The fourth beat pounding an aggressive foot at the ground. A reminder of the manly force that had committed these victims to their stakes.Silence. Suddenly. Nothing. Drums stopped. Stomping stopped. Like someone had thrown a switch. Some power had turned the noise off. A power stronger than the menace of pounding feet. Silence. An ear-splitting silence. A silence more threatening than the dance. To WildWolf that sounded worse. He felt his heart-rate lift. If only he could see …. He held his breath. Nerves. He listened through his hood. His ears pricked for signs. That sudden silence felt more potent that the troop of warriors encircling him in their war-dance.Nothing. WildWolf could hear nothing. Nothing was happening outside the bag over his head. But something had to be happening! That dance had been the opener. Heralding the real event, a ceremony. Somehow, somewhere .. the main act had to be starting ...WildWolf was holding his breath. Listening. Head over to one side, straining to listen for sounds. Nothing. He was aware his heart was pounding. The pulse in his ear was thudding .. making it harder to hear. Wait! Was that something? Had he heard a movement? Was that a gasp? Was that an intake of breath? The thudding of the pulse in his ear drowned out any clues. Or was he beginning to imagine things? Was that the ritual dance of sacrifice? Has he missed his chance? He was seeing pictures of warriors carrying long murderous knives in his mind's eye. Was this already the moment of sacrifice? Was one going to be selected now? Trapped up against the stake? Bound hand and foot. Helpless, no escape. One chosen. The most "spirited one". Was it already too late? Chosen-8254675640Jase nearly laughed out loud when HER hand reached out and touched his CHOSEN ONE's chest. He visibly jumped. Probably he had been concentrating so hard on the long silence that he was caught completely off guard when HER hand stroked lightly over his chest. SHE'd done the four other candidates before moving around the circle of stakes and getting to him.Jase knew SHE would. It was like HER. He knew SHE'd decided from the first sight .. as soon as the drumming stopped to summon HER to make HER choice. SHE’d come out of the shrine and HER eyes would have scanned the circle of candidates before SHE’d taken a step. It was just like HER .. to approach HER selection last. Jase knew HER type, he knew SHE'd to fix on his own choice. Uncle Bob, in the guise of WildWolf. Why else had his night-time fantasies constructed this scenario? SHE was destined to select the right one. There could only be the one.SHE was good at the stealth thing. HER hooded candidates never knew SHE was there until HER hand reached out. Even the ever-alert WildWolf was caught off-guard. He’d jumped like a frightened mouse. Time had dragged on, SHE’d done the other four before him. In eerie silence. The only sound he might have detected was the surprised gasp as HER hands sought out HER prize. But Jase had spotted HER gaze returning to his own proffered choice. He knew what SHE was going to decide. It was fated.And just like HER …. To approach him last. It was almost like SHE teased HERSELF. SHE'd spotted HER choice immediately, Jase’s instincts were spot-on. But SHE toyed with HER emotions. HER choice was left towards the end. SHE toured the ring. SHE played HER game, playing these helpless male torsos. SHE knew the emotions this ceremony aroused. Men expertly touched up by a women. But fearing SHE’d decide for them. Fearing the sacrifice.This slow-rhythmed game with men in fear of their lives … that would get HER going. SHE'd already have HER juices flowing before that first touch of HER hand on this spectacle of WildWolf’s muscular body. Jase read HER like a book. After all, this ceremony happened at the height of HER moon every month.HER hand spread out, HER fingers splayed on the CHOSEN ONE's left pec. Lightly dusting his skin. What must he be thinking inside his bag? He had to know this was a woman. That soft silky touch of a woman on him. Like a hot breath. A touch that reached down into his manliness. Testing him, filling him out. It wasn’t the giant’s mauler on him. It wasn’t some peasant’s calloused hand. It was a mystical woman's smooth fingertips lightly caressing his skin. HER little finger was stroking lightly over a nipple .. repeatedly. SHE’d moved it away, stroking seductively at the hard-plated dome of his chest. And then the finger was back. Stroking, flickering. At a nub that was growing increasingly hard under HER touch. At the same time, HER other hand had lowered and had cupped him between the legs. Jase couldn't see HER stroking him there to arousal too. Jase had seen it all before, every month. Jase knew HER skills. A man would have to be a block of wood not to respond. And his own penchant for tormenting this CHOSEN ONE … interesting, HER handling of his candidate had Jase aroused as well. HER hand moved from his chest .. a signal to Jase that SHE felt his nipple fully aroused. The fingertip traced a downward path .. sliding in a trail through the nervous sweat that glistened in the furrow of his chest. Around each hillock of muscle in his defined belly the fingertip slowly glided. From one side to the other, from one trough down to the next. Taking HER time. Working him up.And he was getting aroused. Jase spotted the hood lift, his head going back against the stake. Inevitably he was responding to HER. What male would not? Head back, breathing in deep, chest rising and falling as HER touch filled him out. And all the time, HER other hand was in his groin .. lasciviously working on his emotions .. rightly place to judge for HERSELF how strongly he was responding.And then SHE stepped away. SHE looked him over. Down the panting of his chest, the gleam of emotions glistening there. HER gaze wandered over the belly muscle pulled in by arousal. And settled on his groin. On the evidence poking at his breeches. Eagerly Jase noticed the strength of his CHOSEN ONE’s response, how firmly he had reacted to HER stroking. The CHOSEN ONE was rising to the touch. Not fully worked up. But strong pressure was pressing against the thickness of his breeches.Satisfied, SHE left him. SHE left him aroused. SHE’d done HER best. Jase was confident SHE had decided. He smirked as he heard his Uncle Bob moan. Horny-as-fuck. But he’d been left hanging. The BrideScrutinyIt had to be clear to WildWolf, Jase reckoned, that that he was the CHOSEN ONE. Jase’s creation, his fusion of fantasy action-heroes .. Jase had conceived of a guy that was tough, resilient .. and smart. Although blinded by the hood, circumstances could leave him in no doubt. Jase had looked at HER to confirm HER choice with a thumb in his direction. HER nod silently confirmed the choice."Take the others back to the cage," Jase had ordered.He would have heard the other men being released from their stakes. And he was being left behind .. Jase’s dude was not dumb. Sounds of men shuffling away had penetrated his hood. And he was still stood there. What was he thinking? Was his heart pounding at the idea that it was him selected? He was chosen for human sacrifice? Was he wondering whether they were already sharpening up the knives?But there were still five days before the day of sacrifice. And that muscled strength would be put to plenty of exacting work before then. His fine muscular body had not been selected for no reason. And first, here and now, SHE would have him tested to see that he was not fooling. That he wasn't all ripped muscle and nothing more.Jase saw the CHOSEN ONE twitch when the warrior stepped forward at Jase's command and sliced away his breeches. A murderously sharp blade that made quick work of stripping him down to nothing. The CHOSEN ONE had twitched at the hand pulling out his waistband. He had to have worked out for himself that only a blade murderously sharp could effortlessly slice up the waistband, cut down his leg through the thick cloth. A blade to be wary of. Knives and human sacrifice .. they had to go together in his head. A sharpness like that … what could it do plunged into his vulnerable gut? His brain had to be racing to make sense of this. His heart thudding in that broad hard-plated chest .. Working out what were his chances still?Jase grinned to himself. He always wondered if every month's victim assumed that exactly this blade, something this fatally sharp, would end his life. Like the others before him, this special CHOSEN ONE was in for a surprise about that.Before SHE finally settled on HER choice, SHE took to checking them out. Five days before the Sacrifice to Baalok, five days when SHE would use the CHOSEN ONE's virility to the full. A testing time when days would seem to stretch into weeks. Baalok would take this body in sacrifice .. chosen for a perfect specimen of manliness. And before, the CHOSEN ONE would reproduce himself after Baalok's fashion. Implanting his man-seed in HER, Baalok’s female CHOSEN ONE.Jase had seen his hero's appendage often enough. In the showers after sports. And it would be unnatural for a young guy with his growing awareness of his own sexuality not to fantasize about the guy he looked up to .. imagine him performing with a woman. He had to be good. His hero would be the best.A guy who looked outstanding like him .. he'd have no problem in getting laid. As and whenever. Off on a mission, away from home .. it had to happen. With Jase’s old man too? Jase had always shied away from that thought. But now when Jase perused that taut ripped torso stood up against the stake .. blindfolded and wondering, nervous at any sound .. muscle-tight, defined in every ridge .. Jase again imagined that body at it with a woman, he would outperform most males, it went without saying. And at last, Jase had engineered a scenario to see it for himself.The CHOSEN ONE visibly jumped when a hand groped in-between his legs and hauled his nut-sack out. Not teasingly, not a girl's prelim to some sex game .. a business-like hand that deftly looped wet leather cord around the back of his nuts and crossed it over the top of his shaft. The sacrifice called out in protest, he wriggled to escape the callous male hand. He cussed when no amount of writhing failed to stop what was happening.Like Jase he had to have had a woman into that kind of tool-bondage. But this wasn't foreplay. The temple guard tugged each loop tight around the shaft. He had to know those calloused fingers belonged to a man. He had to know what that tightness was going to do to him. Of course, he didn't know why. Was his brain pounding .. putting one and one together and making three. An enforced hard-on and that razor-sharp knife …. Obvious connection.SHE stood slightly to one side. Her eyes eager and attentive, full of the sight. Scrutinising HER choice's response to having his blood imprisoned in his shaft. Judging the strength of his response. After all, SHE had five days to make full use of that virility. Many of HER previous CHOSEN ONE's had failed to implant their seed. Would this one be Baalok's choice?He was still only half-firm when SHE stepped forward and went down on one knee to speed up the task. Was SHE so taken SHE couldn't wait? Had HER impatience at the promise of him got to HER? Taking his growing strength in HER hand, SHE fed him to HER tongue. Snake-like, HER tongue flickered over the tip of his hardening head. Jase saw that shredded torso twitch. In his head, he heard the man in his hood gasp. Surprise? And excitement? Uncertain? Yet his male instincts were rising to the prospect?What had to be going through his head? A moment ago he'd feared the touch of the sacrificial knife. Now a woman was toying with the tip of his cock and arousing him to full manhood. Jase smirked to himself. Poor WildWolf. Like his Uncle Bob, a guy who prided himself on being so much in control. Had he got a few surprises coming! DonorAll CHOSEN ONE's tended to put up a fight when they realised their situation. Out of fear. Fearing their end was near. When released from the stake, they thought they were being sacrificed immediately. It was natural to resist. From WildWolf Jase anticipated even more of a struggle.So he’d ordered even more intense precautions. His bound hands were in the grip of a guard and unseeing he was being pulled in the direction of HER shrine. The CHOSEN ONE did try to wriggle himself free but he was still hooded. How was he going to get far? Especially with the giant keeping a murderous hand crushing into the scruff of his neck guiding the way to his fate. A crippling grip on his neck that announced the giant breathing down his neck. A hold that was capable of crushing every bit of resistance out of him. WildWolf did not know what to anticipate. He was a fighter, though, he didn’t take kindly to being shoved around. He had to know he’d not stand a chance with his mountainous guardian on his back. But fighter-instincts didn’t die easily. And each time WildWolf tried something, the giant swung a massive fist into his side that nearly knocked him off his feet. At least, this CHOSEN ONE was getting a lesson in what a uphill struggle he had to save his skin.He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what was to happen. And Jase had expected trouble. And planned accordingly. Next to HER altar in the shrine, suddenly the two temple guards bent and grabbed an ankle each. Ambushed, the CHOSEN ONE missed a valuable second. Before he knew it, in synch with the grips on his feet, the giant upended him. For a split second, he was held in the air. Then the giant slammed his back down on the altar stone. All his wind puffed out into the hood over his head.Quickly the guards set about securing his feet. Before the sacrifice had caught his breath, Jase’s giant had his hand around his windpipe, crushing the back of WildWolf’s head to the marble stone. Pushing down. Pinning his back to the altar. Cutting off his air.Jase was surprised .. and admired … how quickly his victim got his wits about him. Bound hands went to the stranglehold. But what chance of breaking that hold.? Jase’s giant had gravity and his weight on his side. He could afford to let the sacrifice uselessly grapple against the chokehold. Increasingly desperate as he was running out of air.The giant let him struggle. Then, once the sacrifice’s feet were strapped down, the guards turned to his hands. The bonds on his wrists sliced through .. and overpowering his weakening strength, quickly they had his hands strapped to the stone by his side. Ready. Displayed. The CHOSEN ONE lay firmly laid out for HER. Effortlessly the stranglehold was finally replaced by a leather strap to keep his head and neck firmly pinned to HER altar stone.Ready. The CHOSEN ONE was laid out for HER .. proudly unveiling the muscular plane of his torso for his first offering. Jase cast an intense look over this ripped torso of muscular helplessness, still struggling against his bonds although it was futile. His boner had deflated a little in the change-over. But as his body heat soared during the offering, the wet rawhide would dry and tighten. And as SHE worked his offering out of him, he'd quickly be back to full strength.Jase removed the bag over his head. Ensuring that his own face was the first thing the CHOSEN ONE saw. As he took in his predicament, he recognised the man who’d out-manoeuvred him at the river and taken him captive. He cursed loudly as he tried to squirm himself free, itching for payback. In anger and frustration, he cursed even more furiously when he recognised how well Jase had him hopelessly trapped. Of course, he thought he was damned for sacrifice immediately. Desperation kept him trying at the bonds. His outspread legs, strapped down at the ankle, gave him no budge. Waggling with his knees would give a false sense of freedom. But it was an illusion. He could lift his hips a little off the stone .. soon he’d be driving himself mad to do that again and again. Looking at his predicament from any angle, though, the CHOSEN One had to see it was hopeless, he was trapped. Pinned down by the leather across his neck. Wrists and ankles inescapably bound to the marble under his back. When he forced up his head up against the strap and looked down over his chest …. he was mocked by the sight of his manhood still bound into this semi-stiff hard-on. A man who was so used to being in control ….. every shred of self had been robbed of him.What did he think? That it would be taken now in sacrifice? Those symbols of his manliness in their sack .. he'd see them cut off? Castrated? His hard-on sliced away by that evil knife. If only he knew ….! But it was not for the CHOSEN ONE to have his fate explained to him. For five days, his task was to sacrifice his man-gift to HER. This last ambition in his life was to duplicate himself anew .. in honour of Baalok. Implant a newly-created duplicate of himself within HER. The bride of Baalok. Start of new life. His own life ended. A new himself living on. His lasting tribute to a god. His last gift in life. Before this supreme figure of manliness was finally erased. Offered up. Sacrificed to a god.But that wasn't for Jase to explain. He’d soon have his role made clear to him. When SHE re-appeared. After SHE had donned HER raiment for HER first implanting. ImplantsJase attended HER implanting every month. He'd seen it innumerable times before. There was little to keep him fascinated in HER lengthy extraction of male seed. Men reacted differently. Those who were pleasantly surprised to see HER womanhood being offered rather than the knife of sacrifice soon learned the error of their ways. SHE wasn’t offering them a good shagging. That wasn’t how SHE ever intended to proceed with things.This CHOSEN ONE showed signs of being more of a problem. He was spirited. And even though he was wisely cautious of the giant and his power, he wasn’t cowed. He could still try things on. Jase usually remained in the shrine with his guards, anyway. Just to attend HER. They all watched work HER “intended” over every month. But HER escort rarely paid HER much attention.This CHOSEN ONE might be more strong-willed, He was no danger to HER, however, he was securely fastened down. Jase doubted that he’d be in any position to refuse his gift. It wasn’t his to give anyway. SHE’d extract it, willing or not.Normally Jase withdrew to the sides, slightly bored with the monthly duties Jase performed at HER ceremonies. But today this CHOSEN ONE held a special hold over his attention. Here was the answer to one of Jase's long-held question. Just how virile was Uncle Bob? What was his hero like with a woman. And how did he play it with a woman who could and would best him?Jase positioned himself to see. Looking down the length of his hero stretched out on a marble slab, intent on observing closely his CHOSEN ONE. SHE did not linger. Earlier Jase had noticed HER interest in Jase’s choice at the stake. He had made a perfect choice for HER. Over the months Jase had learned from observing those SHE selected each time. Her knew the type that got HER juices flowing. And he’d procured WildWolf because he exactly fitted HER greedy bill.To Jase SHE seemed exceptionally impatient to start working him over. SHE was straddling the CHOSEN ONE's chest .. facing his feet. HER sex was close to his mouth. Jase had seen his eyes open wide when SHE appeared, they all did every month. Clothed in a covering of swishing beads. Her short skirt was dozens of strings of beads hanging off the waistband. As SHE mounted him, they parted with ease revealing tantalising glimpses of intimate flesh. Which just as easily disappeared from view as SHE moved. A real prick-tease.Jase was an old hand. He'd seen HER like this many times. But still, his spirits could lift as a breast swayed into sight and disappeared again under a swish of beads. Just now, his cock had given an involuntary twitch at a nipple cheekily winking at him from through the beads before it coyly withdrew back inside again. SHE WAS enticing. SHE knew exactly how to work a male.However often Jase attended HER implanting, the bride of Baalok could still remain a fascinating woman. Breath-takingly alluring. The fascination on the WildWolf’s face was plain to read as SHE threw a leg over his face, spread HER thighs wide over his chest and started to caress his bound hard-on neck back to full life. What senses pumped up his loins? Was it his eyes? His gaze was rooted on HER backside, inches away from his mouth, only partly covered by HER swishing beads. Was it HER scent? His nose was full of the fragrance of HER sex. Tantalisingly close to his tongue. But he'd never get close. Not unless SHE chose and shamefully rubbed his nose in HER wetness. He wasn’t expected to have any choice in this. He wasn’t allowed.Her first ointment contained a mixture of herbs, a combination that was secret to HER. Once Jase had stolen a small vial and tried it on himself The silly smooth oils seemed to penetrate to the core of his shaft when he rubbed it in. Some stimulant that seeped into his organ and magnified the arousal of his already full-grown cock. No magic that could increase his hardness. It wasn’t some aphrodisiac that gave him extra inches. It swelled out his nerves, though. His body seemed to vibrate with his sex. His sexuality pounded like a raging surf. Those emotions swelled out over his whole body. As if his whole self was transformed into one over-virulent prick. The state of arousal had him overwhelmed. Breath-taking. He’d never again known such a kick.Jase remained close-by .. fascinated how this CHOSEN ONE, so special to him, his hero .. how he would respond to this arch-temptress' designs on him? SHE was more that an expert seducer in bed. SHE was Baalok’s bride. Bride to a god. A generous dose of the simulant was being gently worked over the length of his hero’s cock. Already it had responded. HER practised hands made it impossible for a virile male not to be standing at full mast.Down the full length of him, SHE gently massaged in HER oils. Her thumb worked over the full thickened cockhead working its secret stimulant deep into the flesh. From behind HER back, Jase heard his first moan. HER finger circling the head, the oils coating his ring of fire, a fingertip caressing the arousing oils over his firing pin. And SHE was only starting.The donor's moan intensified. A combination of HER practised touch with males. And the simulating oils that were permeating his over-sensitised man-flesh. Flooding him. Billowing emotions swelling within his blood. When he’d tested out that stolen vial, Jase had been surprised how deeply his senses had become aroused. Almost hard to gather breath. Soon SHE’d have HER seed-donor moaning out of his head.Jase had pondered the question often …. in the secretive depths of his fantasies he’d wondered what Uncle Bob was like with a woman. Had he ever had sex as intense as HERS? ConflictJase watched intently. His hero’s shaft sticking straight up, grossly engorged with his male blood. Amused that the tip visibly trembled. Shuddering under the power of HER oils. Jase risked a glance to one side, looking over HER back. Uncle Bob had his eyes closed. His face taut with strain as the power of HER touch drove him towards the point of ejaculation.SHE decided he warranted more manual stimulation. So SHE upped the stakes. SHE began pumping on him. Her oiled hard squeezing on him, pushing down on him, with every stroke harder. Jase heard him to moan .. louder with every stroke. He began vocalizing his need. Coming out in a stream of incomprehensible moans. The half-voiced "oh"s breaking from deep within his throat .. seeing his rise to ejaculation rising in his blood.It struck Jase as curious. That a sexually potent male who spent his waking hours on the prowl, searching for a likely female for mating …. When a potent female was going to extract his male life-force from him ..…. even though they’d otherwise grab every opportunity to showcase their sexual prowess ….. When SHE was robbing it from him …. When SHE was extracting it on HER terms ….. as often-as-not, the male tried to refuse. Wasn’t it natural to go with it? Sex was sex under any terms, wasn’t it? Yet how many CHOSEN ONE’s …. How many of them had struggled not to give it up? And this time? Uncle Bob, What ya gonna do? Jase had attended numerous implantings. There tended to be a pattern. And Jase's assessment of this CHOSEN ONE's powerful male virility dictated his responses would be all the more extreme. First the shaming. This was a powerful male, this was a sexual creature who was used to dominating, he was the one who called the shots. Sexually he was the Predator, he went out on the hunt. He tracked down his female prey, he lured them into his lair. He was the one whose overpowering male personality, his moves and touch broke down all barriers. Leading HER along by HER lusts until the female was willingly surrendering herself. He had no sustained interest in the female except as a release .. and a means to showcase his sexual prowess. And once finished, he might discard HER and go out in search of other goals. And here ….? That overpowering personality, that proud male virility. HE was the prey. HER victim. Helpless. Used. This act of sex was not anything he'd wished on himself. He’d been taken captive, he’d been assessed for his looks, for the prospects of his virility. And in a very real sense, he had little part in it. And this act of sex was being forced out of him. Against his will. He was being raped.Ironically that which defined the super-male identity of Jase’s action-hero … the act of shedding seed …. When it was being stolen from him ….. taken against his will ….. when he was the victim of HER rape …. How many CHOSEN ONE’s in the past had also tried to resist? So many before had struggled against their male nature. When it was forcibly extracted from him he fought back. His hero’s male being was being made to battle against the very nature that made him male. Wryly Jase saw that mental fight being written on his hero’s face. He was the object of sex with a sexually alluring woman. SHE was a figure of many men’s wettest dreams. SHE was a sexual potency his hero might have encountered only a few times in his life. Yet his features said he was torn. A choice. Take it. Objectivised. Used for the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever craved. Or resist. Fight back because he was fucked if some female bitch was going to abuse him like this. Jase wondered at the emotions that flooded that ripped male torso. Glistening with his sweat. Strung-out on gleaming white marble. He’d be used, he’d not play any active part. A THING. An object. His sole purpose to service HER lusts. His maleness would be forcibly extracted from him. There’d be no hugs, no kissing, no personal warmth. He was a thing .. the object on which a sexually alluring woman would work .. exclusively for HER own benefit. Using his tool, for HERSELF, in HER own way. He had no say in this. Was THAT so bad, Jase wondered? Wasn’t there a pay-off? The sex would be the best he’d imagined. After all, these would be the last times in his life when he’d get his rocks off. Why not go out on a high? Yet Jase reckoned his hero was seriously conflicted. His natural male urges to domination were battling against that which the sexual predator in him madly craved. Shedding seed was what defined him as a male beast. But he wanted it on his terms, not on HER’s.Jase was reading his mind from the features on his face. With unaccustomed reluctance, his hero saw himself being dominated .. by a female of the species .. stimulated to orgasm. Forcibly. Made to surrender his maleness. Raped. His maleness extracted from him by force. Mentally every cell in his male-domineering body shrieked at him to resist. He was a fighter, he’d fight back.Resisting was pointless, anyway. But his hero could not know that. Summoning up that mental strength to resist would have little or no impact. SHE’d take him, anyway. He was in the best hands. Oiled and strong on him, gliding down to his root. Setting him alight with HER thumb circling around the crown of his dome. SHE was a seductress of the highest degree. No male was going to win against HER skills. SHE’d play him like a salmon in the stream. He could fight back, he could squirm, struggle. But like the fish, he’d only be exhausting himself. SHE’d win. SHE’d toy with his hopes for the smallest gain. SHE’d play him for as long as SHE judged. Keeping him dangling on HER line. Numerous times he’d trick himself into thinking it was going to happen. Again he'd brace himself for what he fooled himself into thinking was the inevitable climax. Time-and-again, brought to the edge. Tottering on the brink of freedom. Bracing every fibre in his muscle- male-proud being. Fooling himself he could win. Time-and-again SHE’d tease him there … tickle him, toy with him. Each failure only storing up more of his male life-force within his nuts. Concocting within those man-eggs the most powerful implant SHE could stir.His orgasm would never occur. Not until SHE willed it so. SHE was skilled at detecting the impending rush of man-seed. SHE'd read him through patterns in his beating heart, his tortured breathing, the quivering on his sweat-drenched skin, his ragged respiration, the increasing male desperation as his whole being could not stop itself craving to burst free.Countless times he’d fool himself. He’d persuade himself he could trick HER. As SHE played him another failed time, Jase would hear his CHOSEN ONE cry out. In frustration. In male anger? Futile fury at being used. Tugging at his bonds, muscles knotted as he strained to break free. Convinced that ripped physique could not be beaten by something this weak. Yanking, twisting, his thighs straining with muscular effort.Jase had seen it many times before. There was a pattern. As time went on, overpowering levels of frustration would set in. This dominant male-predator refusing to condone that he could not rise above this and conquer. And yet he couldn’t, that wasn’t HER plan. Frustrations that would turn into dismay. Dismay seguing into despair. Sensations so powerful that .. under the seduction of HER ministering hands .. they would tear at the knotted power bulging in each-and-every etched muscle of a ripped body like his. Despair and desperation that deepened and weakened even the toughest, battle-hardened dominant male like him. An intriguing thought …. Would Jase hear his hero beg? LustsIt was understandable, Jase mused .. he wasn’t sure there was any scientific evidence for this … but if you kept edging a male .. if you kept him tottering on the verge of cuming … and then drew him back … not once, a half-dozen times … wasn’t it reasonable to think that all frustrated might accumulate in the nuts? Grew in strength with every denial. So that when finally release was granted …. Fuck, what power had been accumulated in the jizm by then! Could some less cultivated, more primitive cultures .. couldn’t they believe in the magical power that severe edging could produce?His gaze swept down over WildWolf .. who would have no say in this at all. When would he realise that SHE was not going to let him cum? Not till SHE judged it right. SHE’d torture him. SHE’d toy with his cravings and need. Building up the power of manliness in his bloated nuts. Till finally, SHE would implant him inside HERSELF. SHE’d do it. Impregnate HERSELF with the most powerful ejaculation of potent man-seed. Impregnating Baalok’s bride. Not though, …..not till SHE judged him right. That delay would drive him out of his mind. He could curse and rave. He could drive himself mad with overwhelming frustrations. SHE’d calmly ignore him, SHE always did, every month. SHE’d heard it all before. Undeterred SHE’d torture him to create the most powerful potion of man-seed he’d ever made.Jase had spotted when his hero had first started leaking. At first, a few single pearls peeking out of his quivering tip. Then joined by more. Deftly his temptress circled HER thumb around his bloated dome, mixing the stimulant with his own involuntary dribbles. Reinforcing the power of HER oils over his manliness. A gasp broke from behind HER back. The whole torso quivered. A slippery sheath of HER hand held his shaft still. SHE gripped softly his engorged shaft, HER touch soothing the bulging veins that ran bloated down its length.A restless thumb, though, took on numerous parts. Vibrating the stiff rod. Tingling the constricted blood flow. One minute a soft brush, the next the flickering of a snake’s tongue. Till his body consisted of only one part. Every nerve-ending was erogenous. He probably saw in his mind’s eye that his manhood was huge. But mockingly, it no longer belonged to him. This most virile of males.Had he vainly thought at first it was him to be pleasured here … that SHE was arousing him to bursting point for his benefit? Some CHOSEN ONE’s got the stupid idea that SHE was compensating for their sacrifice with the best sex they’d ever had. Wrong idea. Unwanted moans, unwelcome unspoken pleas shimmered through the muscles of his trapped torso. The sounds Jase’s hero-donor was making .. he thought he was near again. His body ached to reach the orgasm that had eluded it for so long .. five or six times denied already. Eagerly he was lifting his hips into HER oil-slick massage .. helping HER along. Fool! He wasn’t here to give, it was HERS to take. And a paltry gift such as this was nothing as yet. There was much more to be worked on before SHE’d judge his strength worthy and take him in to HERSELF.He groaned. In dismay and agony. HER hand had let off his trembling shaft. His hips lifted as need searched in frustration for touch again. He was to achieve an intense arousal level higher than that of the average male. SHE’d have him there tortured before the emission phase of orgasm. Put simply, he had to be more than ready to cum. His whole being ached for it. He began thrashing, crazedly pumping his buttocks in the air. He was trying to rub his precum-slicked glans against anything. Madness had him thrashing at anything he might reach. Anything within reach to continue the stimulation. He was zinging within mere moments from orgasm …. if only he could make touch. Panting and shaking like crazy. Fool! That wasn’t his choice to make. He had no say in this.His aching cock was a sight to behold as it thrust powerfully to find something to touch. Oozing precum liberally, reinvigorating the stimulant that glistened sparking along the length of his bloated cock. His own drooling seed mixed with HER secret oils was spiralling him to heights of arousal he might never before have known. He HAD been within mille-seconds of exploding before SHE let him go. FUCK! Agonisingly letting him down, decreasing the speed of his arousal. Denying him climax yet another agonizing time. Leaving him thrashing, grunting like a pig while saliva dribbled down his chin. Those powerful manly urges to shower HER with his man-seed left screaming with frustration and need.HER fingers, meanwhile, had coated themselves richly with the oil again. They were moving around the stiff searching rod towards his balls. Full with need, tight with lust. Gently again, SHE impregnated his man-tools with the arousing oils. In no time, at the other end, he was moaning, his blood was racing. Futile, his hips lifted and searched. SHE swayed on top of his torso as the desperation of the male-beast under HER sought for release.His cock-dome was drooling copiously. His cock shuddered with aching need. The stimulant of the oils swelled in his over-sensitised balls and emitted animal-like moans of desperation from his mouth. His head swishing in despair from side-to-side as if that could somehow bring him the release. Jase thrilled at this vision of Uncle Bob .. a marvellous effigy of male virility tortured by his own cravings and lusts. Unspoken in every cell of his trembling torso a despairing tortured cry. Begging HER to let him cum. The DeityWastedNo one owed the CHOSEN ONE an explanation. No need to know what this was about. Or where it was heading. He’d been CHOSEN, that was his fate. He'd started out blurting about having no right, he'd cursed Jase for putting him through this. But who gave a shit?Once he'd got used to the seductive sight of HER and the tantalising swish of beads around HER flawless body .. after realising he was playing no part in this .. he was here to be used ….. he had first struggled at being used by HER so uncaringly. He was used to holding the whiphand, being in charge. Maybe he'd still harboured some vain thought that SHE could be seduced into succumbing to him and he'd willingly stick it to HER. But that delusion hadn’t lasted long. He was missing the point. SHE didn't need a sacrifice who aimed to take over, to take control. This wasn't about the female submitting to the might of the dominant male. This was rape. This was extracting the male life-seed from him by force. He was sacrificing his life-force.This was torturing the male life-force within him .. denying his own right, subjugating his male will. In the name of concocting the most potent man-seed his nuts could formulate. For HER to implant that in HERSELF, bride of Baalok. This was about building up the power of his seed in his raging nuts … until, once permitted, he came with such overwhelming power of surrendering to HER his life force itself. Extracted by pain and his suffering, robbed from him. Extracted with such potency that he was sure to implant a replica of the powerful himself inside HER womb. A child worthy of Baalok's line.Endless, agonising times SHE’d edged him. Three times only SHE’d extracted the raging potency in his nuts into HERSELF. He’d gone mad with sexual frustration. He’d yelled, he’d cursed. But his dominant masculinity had coldly been dragged through an agonising eternity of weakening abuse.Then, careless of the object of aching maleness under HER, SHE’d thrown HER leg over his drained torso .. and SHE'd left. Without a backward glance. SHE'd emptied HER sacrifice. What did he matter?. He was spent. Drained. Physically, emotionally. The maleness in him had taken a battering worse than any fight. He was not the last man standing. Even this muscled male of such obvious muscular power lay drained. The predator in the male psyche wasn’t used to being abused like this, sustained, ruthlessly maltreated. Shattering, psychologically. Wearing. How many times had he desperately prayed that THIS time it would happen again? That SHE might show him mercy and let him cum. Hoping against hope. SHE was a master at this, SHE excelled. It was what SHE shone at. SHE grew the potency in HER sacrifices and extracted it out of their spiralling emotions every month. Jase had watched HER drive WildWolf mad with HER tormenting. And secretly, Jase was pretty sure, SHE’d enjoyed breaking in this supremely sculpted model of the male form. SHE’d seem to have dragged out this implanting over an extraordinarily sustained length of time. He must have thought he was turning on a wheel of sexual torture for an eternity.When finally SHE chose to abandon him and Jase's guards released him from the birthing stone, Jase did not expect the CHOSEN ONE to be in any position to give any trouble. But just to be sure … it was the giant he'd ordered to raise him and conduct him to the next stage in his downward slide to sacrifice. The giant was a force the CHOSEN ONE had learned to be wary about.WildWolf cursed. That giant hand had gripped him by the scalp and twisted in his hair, hauling him upright. Like he was being dragged back to a tortured reality … when his emotions were already spiralling down to a hellish abyss. Jase could see he'd not really taken it in that this hands were now free .. he was so drained by that lengthy edging. But the pain yanked out of his scalp had him fighting back at the hand dragging him back to his feet. The grip was mercilessly tight. Jase’s hero could always find something to fight back. WildWolf winced as the powerful hand pulled him into sitting upright by the hair. Furious WildWolf yelled back. Like a madman he started bashing at the grip in this scalp. Trying to break himself free. Tired of his stupidity, Jase’s giant gave a hard tug, lifting the muscled torso off the stone. WildWolf struggled, he fought, he wriggle and squirmed. The giant threw him, throwing him off the stone. Landing him on the gritty ground. A giant foot loomed over the outspread legs. For a second Jase feared the giant in his anger was going to stomp down on those precious CHOSEN balls. Swollen, aching, exhausted,But the giant was as experienced at this ritual as Jase. He stomped his heel down on the writhing CHOSEN ONE’s lower belly. He bawled. He doubled-up. He fell back against the stone bashing his head. Gasping for air, fighting for air. Like he’d never be able to refill his lungs again. Any thought he might once have had of breaking free and running for his life had been robbed of him. He hadn't the strength in his legs, he'd never make it. Not to mention that half bloated hard-on still bound up at the tops of his thighs. It ached, it ached like hell. SHE had drained him empty, it felt. She had extracted his famed male potency from his whole aching body.Suddenly he was being dragged across the rock floor. Two temple guards had a foot each and were dragging him across the floor of the cave on his back. At the pit, the giant joined the captive again. This time, his giant foot was pressing down in his windpipe. Pinning him on his back to the ground till the others had secured his hands. The CHOSEN ONE still fought for breath. Instinct had WildWolf trying to prise the weight away from the throat. His body had been robbed of its fighting strength, but the warrior spirit would not give up. But Jase’s men were experienced at this, his hands were quickly disabled, grabbed by the guards and hauled up over his head. The giant brute would not be prised away. Yet WildWolf was struggling to breath. Increasingly desperate for air, increasingly light-headed. Something beyond his head was happening with his hands. But he had this one over-riding priority, he had to breathe. He HAD to breathe. His fighter-spirit had to get that weight off his windpipe, throttling him.The giant released him. Instantly he bent forwards and grabbed WildWolf by the head, a crushing hand on either ear. Squeezing agony into his skull, the brute was pulling WildWolf to his feet. His arms fell forward. The hands were tied, spread to a wooden bar. But WildWolf had no time to think. A hammer blow behind slammed into his lower back. He yelled out. The giant brute had slipped behind him. WildWolf, struggling to come-to—terms, struggling to stay on his feet …. He’d not see the giant move, A massive blow to his lower back. That damned giant had kidney-punched him. Like a sledgehammer from a giant fist. The pain collapsed his legs under him. But before he fell, the giant grabbed him. Wrapped his arms around WildWolf’s chest. His back crushed in a mighty bear-hug to the giant’s front. A mighty squeeze. A force that threatened to crack ribs. To crush the fighting-force out of him. In pain, his head went back. WildWolf felt the giant’s head against his. Sheer vindictiveness had him bashing the back of his skull into the giant’s face.He squeezed back. The brute increased the crush around WildWolf’s chest. The pain was excruciating. The crush seemed to drain every last ounce of strength out of him. His feet left the ground. The giant had leaned back and lifted him up in the air. WildWolf howled. It was like any last vestige of his strength ran down his muscled legs and drained in a rush out of his feet. He threw his head helpless back, eyes looking up at the roof, mouth open-wide in his pain. Bands of steel encasing him in agony. His head resting back against the giant skull. No longer fighting back, he couldn’t. Mouth gaping open in a soundless cry of crushing tortured agony. Expecting to pass out. Weighty thoughtsJase stood on the other side of Baalok's pit and eyed his CHOSEN ONE. Clearly struggling from the heavy-handed treatment dished out by Jase’s giant guard. The extraction on the birthing stone had taken a lot out of him. He’d briefly found strength to hit back. But clutched in a body-crippling squeeze from the giant had pretty well finished that off too.On his feet again now but he was swaying with exhaustion. His knees breaking under him as he swayed. Only his instinctive athleticism saving him from collapsing, managing to right his stance as a leg gave way. There’d been one final try at defending himself. The pair of guards had used his weakened state to secure his legs for his ordeal. They’d moved to tie his ankles to a wooden pole, spreading them to match the one spreading his hands. He was up in the air, crushed in the giant’s grip. But when he felt this fresh danger going for his feet, he found the strength to kick out. Jase had to give it to him. He didn’t give in easily. It was second-nature to him.By luck his kick got one guard in the face. But no harm done. It was no targeted kick, just an anxious man’s wild desperation. The giant squeezed. WildWolf howled. Steel-bands of torture enfolded his chest. An agonising crush squeezed the strength out of his will. His legs dangled, his torso hung, crippled in an excruciating squeeze. No fight in him, the guards quickly got his ankles trapped in the spreader.Jase observed his CHOSEN ONE. Stood on the edge of Baalok’s pit. Legs and arms in a mirror image, secured to poles spreading his limbs. The wrist pole was tied to a rope dangling down from the roof above his head in case he collapsed. Jase was pleased with his choice. He had fared well. Jase was pleased his confidence in the man had been well placed. He had stood up well up to his first implanting with HER. SHE had rightly identified the exceptional fighting spirit in the guy. Her treatment of him had been exceptionally demanding. She had really worked him over, emotionally, sexually. Jase did have a knack in identifying the ones who suited. The men SHE'd select. The sacrifices he'd lead to their god. And then .. despite his exhaustion .. unusually demoralised by seeing his outstanding strength robbed from him …. still he’d shown spirit. Still he’d done his best to hold his own. Fighting back when the giant raised him off the stone. Except what chance against a man-mountain like that? Why else had Jase designed him into this scenario?A curse from the other side of the gaping hole brought Jase’s attention back. A guard had gone down on his knees. It was when his hand had grabbed at the CHOSEN ONE's nutsack that the sacrifice had tumbled out of his tiredness and jerked back to full awareness. So he hadn’t lost hope! His hero hadn’t submitted. Deep down, he still recognised danger. And despite everything, he could still fight back. Jase had to give it to the guy! He didn’t know when to lie down.WildWolf protested afresh when the bastard under him grabbed him by his balls. His aching over-worked nuts. He was still half-hard thanks to that cord around the base of his shaft. He was taking no more! He was exhausted there. He was having no more of their shit! That bitch had worked all the strength out of him. The grip on his balls only confirmed it. One touch and his whole body reacted. It screamed back. No more of their shit! The hand circled his nut-sack squeezing his overloaded nuts downwards. He'd never ached there so much. The rough grip of the calloused hand on him there had WildWolf cursing. That fucking hurt. He wiggled with his legs, he shook with his knees, he fought to fend that hand off. He was so exhausted down there. He couldn't believe how. Dismayed WildWolf had to recognised how they'd got his fighting strength tied down again, disabled him while he'd been out of it. He couldn’t kick out with his legs, tied to a pole keeping them spread. He breathed deep, taking in restoring air. Dispelling the tiredness. It was like he'd gone up against an equally matched fighter and slugged it out for hours. He’d never given up in a fight. All his will said he wasn’t giving up now.Any hope of fighting off that grip on his nuts, though, was stolen by the bar tied to his ankles. With bloody-minded frustration, he saw he couldn’t do much. This was practised. They did this to some victim every month. He did what he could. He made it hard for the guy. He wriggled with his knees, he showed him he was no push-over. Not taking this lying down. He circled his hips away. In response, the hand on him squeezed. In retaliation the man crushed a nut between finger and thumb. A long persistent squeeze. Shit, he hurt down there. He yelped. He yelled back abuse down on the guy roughly fumbling with his aching nuts. Shit! He didn't need any squeezing on his nut-sack. No more bad moves down there!The guy was going to do whatever perverted trick he was playing on him. But no way was he giving in. Seeking some way out of this shit, WildWolf looked up. Arms too neutralized.. Like his ankles, hands tied spread to a wooden pole, kept there by rope for hanging down from the cavern roof.He looked up, looking more intently, his brain recovering. Looking to understand what was happening to him, looking to detect the dangers .. seeking some chance way-out. Thinking he wasn't stood here, tied like this by chance. This was part of some sick plan.Hands above his head tied to a wooden bar, that had a thick rope tied to it. It snaked up to a sturdy wooden beam. WildWolf looked along the length of the beam. It looked like those instruments at a water-well, a pivot near the middle so the end could be raised and lowered. A primitive crane.Mysteriously he also spotted he was stood upright on the lip of a giant hole in the floor of the cave. The crane. The hole. Him spread-eagled. That had to be some plan. WildWolf then spotted the young guy who seemed to supervise this whole set up. From the start tricking him, drugging him. That display outside, getting "selected". And then that edging on the stone slab with that horny bitch. This cocky young stud, he was behind all of this."You some fucking pervert?"WildWolf cursed him across the gaping hole. "Enjoy the fucking show, did you? What's up? Can't get it up yourself? You have to watch?"In reply, the man just nodded. He agreed? The prick only got hard from watching? WildWolf hadn’t been ignoring the fumbling going on around his nutsack. He’d kept up the jiggling, the twisting away. His attempts to fend the guard off had made no difference, though. He'd been tying cord around his nuts, several loops tugged tight. WildWolf had learned long before to spend effort only fighting something he could win. Every step to make things hard for the man had failed. More important to understand his situation and get his hide out of this mess. Fuck! What was that? Fuck! That nod had been a signal. The stud hadn’t been agreeing. He’d issued an order. WildWolf's cursed outburst had betrayed that he'd got his consciousness back. That he knew what was going on. That there was now a point in his suffering continuing. Fuck! What the fuck was that. Something dragged on his nut-sack. That guard had just gone and hung something heavy off his balls. WildWolf tried to look down. But that fucker underneath him .. his head hid the problem from view.It was like his guts were being hauled out of him through his nuts. Some weight was dragging down on his balls. Inside WildWolf howled. Hearing in that sound an edge of despair. What more was he supposed to take! The tiredness he'd managed to fight came thundering over him like pounding surf. WildWolf could almost have sobbed. Some weight pulling on him. On his aching over-worked nuts. Down there … where it hurt so fucking-much! How much more? Was there no end to this? The PitHe had to feel it was one fucking fight after the other. What he’d been put through .. for most men .. impossible, will-breaking. Not all Chosen ONE’s were subjected to such harshness of treatments. Most men wouldn’t have been able to take them. But then …. There was only one Uncle Bob.THIS sacrifice was exceptional. He held a particular interest for Jase. That treatment over the birthing stone .. exceptionally demanding, she hadn’t played at it. This whole fantasy was seeking to answer Jase’s long-held query. How good was his hero with a woman? How virile was his Uncle Bob? A reasonable question. Jase had spent a lifetime hero-worshipping this guy .. from a kid up. As Jase had become more sexually active .. only reasonable to wonder …… how exceptional was he? As good as Jase imagined .. up there on his pedestal? Were there any limits to what he would do?In the guise of WildWolf, Jase had had HER drain his nerves dry. For seemingly endless hours tortured out of his head .. edged dozens of times. Till every fibre in that super-manly torso had been shrieking. Had his hero ever been tested so much? Control so ripped from him? By a woman? A woman who had acute insights into how he worked. How to turn his manliness against him ….. SHE’d really given him the works.And then, spiritually weakened, his manly psyche stretched to breaking point … Jase’s giant had dealt this CHOSEN ONE’s confidence body-blows. Raising doubts in his own strength and resilience with body-battering hits. This champion-among-males was not one used to submitting easily. Or getting beaten. He was dogged, Jase knew. His hero was tough-minded .. and he’d kept on battling. Even when the odds seemed insurmountable. And that man mountain had dealt him blows that knocked the wind out of him. He knew he couldn’t win in any direct fight. He had to be thinking of ways of getting out of this and evading any direct confrontation with a giant he could not win against .. narrowing his options. Jase wondered if getting tightly boxed into a corner like that .. how was that working on his normal confidence in his strength?. Were those narrowing options giving his indomitable spirit hard knocks that were just as hard to recover from? Weakened in spirit as a male predator. Up against a foe he could not physically beat ….. And still Jase hadn't revealed the true shock yet. His ultimate test.Jase noted his CHOSEN ONE had ceased his cursing now. The strain of the weight pulling down on him had begun to concentrate his mind. Like all those CHOSEN ONE's before him, fear of too much moving around had his captive standing as still as he could. Not wanting to swing that weight between his legs. Naively fearing too much agitation would pull things apart. Na?ve fool! As if Jase would ever make that mistake. He still had four days of implanting to go. This CHOSEN ONE still had to fulfil his labours under HER and only then would he go to meet his end in these jaws of Baalok. This prick didn’t know that, though. He feared for what any sharp movement might do to him. This hero wouldn’t have given up hope, however exhausted he was feeling. He’d still be planning to come out of this in one piece. And he’d be needing his nether tool-bag then again.That weight was manageable, Jase knew that. He’d not tear apart. But Jase wasn’t allaying his fears … WHY? He knew his hero was faced with the unaccustomed pressures on his junk …. fear of irreparable damage down there .. the dread of moving too violently and ripping …. Such fears did the work for Jase. He wouldn’t be taking any chances. They kept him calmed.Tear? Castrate himself? Out of the question. Jase wouldn't fail. This sacrifice would fulfil his sexual promise. This CHOSEN ONE .. Jase would see this through to a successful implanting. Before he was offered in sacrifice … his hero would serve his term servicing HER. There could be no damage to his tackle. His sexual prowess would yet hits heights of copulation this hero had not attained before. Before he met his end, Jase couldn’t deny him that. And then ….. after the best five days of sexual madness .... what more fitting time .. when that experience could not be topped …. Best time to meet his greatest test in life. His encounter with Baalok. Jase knew that weight was not as bad as it felt, he was tired, his confidence had taken a severe knocking. He wouldn't tear. But his hero could not be so sure. It had calmed him, it had brought him to a state of passive awareness .. a state more suitable for him to be made aware. To see for himself the challenge his redoubtable toughness faced.The CHOSEN ONE was glaring over at Jase. The gaping hole of the shrine stood between them. Jase read the strain on his face. Biting on his bottom lip. Eyes creased. Aspects of the strain on his nuts and his extreme nervous exhaustion .. all shifting in the flickering changes on his face. He thought that weight on him was ponderous, unmanageable. He feared he’d rip. Unmanned. But Jase knew he had nothing to fear. It was his nerves edging him. A male’s fear for his nether equipment. But what was there to gain in re-assuring him?Jase nodded at his guards Moving over to the other end of the crane, they seized the rope and pulled it downwards towards them. The CHOSEN ONE was caught unawares, feeling a pull on his hands, looking up to see his end of the crane rising up in the air. The pull straightening his arms, his feet were lifted, he swung off the ground. It was starting again. WildWolf threw that smug leader of this band of sadist perverts a questioning look. The young stud stood examining him closely on the other side of this gaping hole. Was this the sacrifice? Was he being lowered into this pit? To what? Would he be swung out over the lip and then dropped into some bottomless hole? Something was happening. But what? WildWolf felt a fluttering in the pit of his stomach. Was this the end?. This was certainly nothing he would have associated with the idea of sacrifice. Where was the altar? The mad priestess? The sacrificial knife?WildWolf sensed the presence of the giant looming over him behind .. before he felt the touch. He quickly twisted his head round to see. Just as a hand dug in between his out-splayed legs. The grip in the scruff of his neck was murderously tight. Seemingly effortlessly the monster lifted WildWolf further in the air. He was being thrown. Flying out into the gaping hole. He was being thrown down into the pi. Shock jangled with a rush of fear as he flew through the air over the black gaping abyss. SuspenseThe guards on the crane had synchronised this dramatic move with every monthly CHOSEN ONE. They let the end of the crane swing out following the trajectory of the shredded sacrifice. Then as his heavy muscled weight began to drop, they used their rope to halt his fall. And slowly, controlled, they lowered him further into the pit.WildWolf yelled out in surprise. Unexpectedly thrown down into this gaping hole. And with such seeming ease. Thrown out into the black gaping unknown. Slung out over the massive black hole. Flying, bound helpless into this X, through the gaping air … dropping. Another sharp cry was ripped out of him. Broken to sudden halt. He stopped dropping suddenly? Pain was wrenched sharp out of his shoulder joints. A sharp screaming pain. His whole body shook .. yanked to a sudden stop. Another yell broke free. Born of a male primeval fear. A sharp tugging on his ballsack. It took less than second or two to remember that weight bound to him there. His mind's eye saw it swinging and swaying between his legs. He tried to still himself. But his legs were trapped wide apart. His body was swinging wildly off the overhead rope. He was sure the weight was going to tear. Rip it off. He'd drop to his death unmanned. Male desperation tried to make himself hold still, control his body from swinging. Stop that dread weight between his legs from swinging so wildly on him.Jase watched him intently as his guards slowly lowered the CHOSEN ONE. This ritual was repeated with every monthly CHOSEN ONE. This one's initial reactions of shock had been the same as usual. But it was remarkable how in seconds this sacrifice had taken hold of his panic. His face was again controlled, biting on a lip with concentration .. controlling his swinging, getting his emotions back under his control. The rope on the CHOSEN ONE's hands slowly and controlled lowered the CHOSEN ONE into the utter blackness of the pit. As his head reached the level of the lip of the hole, Jase saw him raise an angry gaze up to him. Was he thinking he’d curse his tormentor? The last defiance before he crashed into the pit? The CHOSEN ONE had been peering down into the gaping blackness beneath him. What was Jase’s amazing hero thinking at this moment? His CHOSEN ONE, muscled, not easily scared, tough dogged fighter … swinging over the blackness of the pit, bulging shoulder muscles knotted as he sought to control his swinging, the hang sharply defining every muscle in that ripped physique … what was he thinking as he looked up from the pit into Jase's eyes? Curious? Scared? On edge? Wondering what lay down there in the pitch-blackness? Wondering if this was the moment of sacrifice? Was he being fed to the monsters of hell down there waiting for him?His gaze fixed on Jase. Jase had to feel a sense of admiration. Looking up at him .. a look of strength. Not a trace of fear. He had to be thinking these were the last breaths he'd take. But there was no sign of fear. Not even nerves. Here was a man more than used to dangers. Whose life consisted of putting his life on the block. It was a questioning look. What the fuck was this young man up to? What kind of devilment was he planning? Jase had put him to exacting challenges in the last hours. Was this more? Or was this the end? But fear? No, his hero showed no fear in the jaws of death.The strains pulling down on the appendage between his legs had been pushed aside. The question on his lips .. not even asking .. What are you up to? Who gets off on this? A strong look that questioned what motivated Jase to do this? What was he getting out of this of charade? Or maybe he was wondering what was keeping Jase? He was ready, he did not fear death. Why wait? Why didn't he just let him drop? A strong look. Reflecting a strong presence of mind. He’d faced sudden death many times, it held no doubts for him. A fearless will every bit as sharpened as the muscle etched into his magnificent suspended body. No fear that he was drawing his last breath. Or any panic to get this over with it before he lost his nerve. A calmness in the jaws of what he must think was his impending doom. A man in control of that great overwhelming emotion. The conscious threat of death. Moving his hero’s awareness one step closer to the truth, Jase ordered the ring of torches lit. The CHOSEN ONE hung suspended. His head level with the lip of the hole, no longer swaying. Like time and emotion too were suspended. The two guards went around the hole setting light to the dozen torches on the rim. Calmly he watched. Calmly he hung. Aware that these probably were the last moments of his life. Facing his end with a control over his emotions that Jase had to admire. Most others had no shown such manly equanimity. One by one the torches illuminated the blackness that prowled menacing below the CHOSEN ONE's feet. Suspended. All fears as controlled as the muscle suspended over the gaping pit. BaalokThe way the torches were lit, WildWolf knew he was supposed to see something being revealed below. He glanced down into the receding blackness below. One by one the torches around him threw some light on the secret. He had been hung out here for a reason. And the answer lay down there in the blackness of the pit. Three torches burned, WildWolf looked down below his splayed out feet .. only now remembering the weight that hung off him and pulled on his balls.Was that movement? WildWolf thought something down there moved. Something large, something that shifted itself ponderously. He peered down, he blinked to clear his eyes. Two more torches threw out more light. Was that a pair of eyes that looked back at him? Yellow eyes, wide apart. Whatever lived in that pit .. its skull was enormous.WildWolf gasped. It moved. He heard the pulse in his ear thudding. With his nervousness. The eyes moved. Massive, rising towards him. Slowly. It was taking its time. Two more torches had been lit. And lit up an enormous head. A giant skull. A snake. An enormous snake. And still, the head was rising. Up from the base of the pit. Yellow lifeless eyes eating him up. A flickering tongue. An enormous tongue the length of a forearm. It was huge.The circle of torches around him was complete. WildWolf could not believe the sight that rose up beneath him. His heart thumped. Snake was not the word for it. More like a serpent. But such things did not exist. And neither did a snake this size."Baalok is hungry."WildWolf recognised the young man's voice. That stud who'd tricked him and taken him prisoner. He’d supervised this whole procedure. Leading to THIS?. That name WildWolf had first heard in the cage. “Baalok likes them spirited”."Never fear.”Easier said than done with that gigantic monster rising and devouring WildWolf with those eyes.“He cannot rise up out of the pit.”The words from the stud above did not reassure. This thing just kept on rising.“We have to lower you to him. His sacrifice."WildWolf didn’t look up. He sensed the stud gauging his reaction. He couldn't take his eyes off the horror that stared up at him, though. That flickering tongue. That colossal skull. They were going to lower him. Sacrifice him to that monster down before his feet. But ….. how could it consume a full-grown male?As if in answer to WildWolf's unarticulated question, the brute opened its mouth. Gaping wide open, as if preparing to swallow him up."It takes hours …..”The stud on the rim of this pit elucidated for him the ritual …..”“ ….. before the muscles are stretched enough to take in the human chest. Aided by crushing the bones within his jaws."That was how this brute could consume a man. By crushing its victim as it swallowed. In his fervid imagination, WildWolf saw the horror of the image for himself."You go in feet first. Legs and hips help stretch and loosen the muscles and swallow more down. Crushing through bone as he goes."A chill consumed WildWolf. He was suspended off his arms, they’d not help him fight He might be able to kick and thrash with his legs. But once the brute’s jaws had seized hold of one leg, it would be over. There’d be no escaping that crushing grip. The thought was body-crippling, will-breaking. Eaten by a monstrous snake. Eaten alive? Fuck, yes. Of course! Devoured by their god. Sacrificed to the jaws of a monstrous snake. Nothing any man could ever fight against. That most chilling thought. Would they kill him first? Surely? They couldn’t be that perverse? But didn’t that man in the cage say, Baalok liked them spirited? Didn’t that mean a sacrifice that could fight back? The idea chilled him. When WildWolf looked up to find answers, the young man had gone, the giant and the guards too. Just him and this massive serpent. Its massive jaws gaping open. Hungry. Tongue flickering. Eager to receive the sacrifice.Jase had known CHOSEN ONE's who started to piss themselves at this point. Bladders loosened, no holding back. Sheer terror as they stared down into the fathomless emptiness of those enormous eyes. Jase was leaving his hero suspended staring down in abject terror. A test to challenge his power to conquer insurmountable fears. The pull of the weight on his nuts would seem like nothing compared to the horrors of the mental torture his imagination would be inflicting on himself. This CHOSEN ONE’s head was full of the vision of him slowly being swallowed by a giant snake .. jaws crushing his bones to slide his body down. Being eaten alive. Taking hours over the sacrifice. Entering those gaping crushing jaws feet first. The agony of bones breaking .. the horror of shattered limbs squeezed down into Baalok's throat. His eyes were full of the sight. His hero’s imagination painted the image. Consumed slowly, devoured over several hours. Dreading the moment when his chest was squeezed and the ribcage agonisingly crushed. And still, his head almost in line with those jaws, screaming when his crushed-in chest was swallowed down. Till shrieking his guts out, alive, Baalok swallowed him whole.Jase left him there with his terrors. He'd spend a few hours there, painfully hanging off his hands .. psychologically tortured with thoughts of his doom. Baalok could not reach up to him. But that wouldn't allay the terrors. WildWolf did not know he had five more days. The time of sacrifice was not here .. he had five more days sacrificing his man-seed to HER. Daily SHE’d nurture his seed in his tortured nuts. On that birthing stone SHE’d take his potent concoction and implant fresh life into HER. Five days’ reprieve. Used, toyed with. SHE’d torture his manliness to exact the strongest seed SHE could implant. Five days of torture in the hands of Baalok's bride. Creating new life out of his seed, a new-born duplicate of this hero. Five more days before he’d done his duty by HER. When the bride of Baalok would release him. For Baalok to swallow the old life whole. Alive.Jase grinned to himself. Get out of that one, Uncle Bob! ProspectsIt is the irony of Jase’s fantasies that he doesn’t want his hero to fail. What would be the point of feeding Uncle Bob into the serpent’s jaws? That would mark the death-knell of a fascination that has endured for years and has not yet run its full course.He has left his hero dangling off a rope .. only feet away from those gaping jaws. Of course, his CHOSEN ONE will be scared. Of course, his imagination will be running wild. But will those raging fears be the end of Uncle Bob? Enough to break his will? Jase is not out to finish his hero off. But he IS dedicated on pushing him to the limit. And beyond.Will the prospects of that agonising death crush his fighter’s spirit? Will his hero accept there is no escape and give up hope? He does not know Jase had granted him five days of enforced copulation with HER ahead of him. Dangling in the jaws of a fantastical death, how does his champion react? Is this enough to crush his manly will?Five days to effect an escape from the inescapable. Jase has no doubts, he will not give up. The shock of his rapes on the birthing stone …. he will work through that, that shock will evaporate. Replaced by anger. Augmented by rigorous planning. Even giants slip up, his hero will make best use of any mistake. Jase will see that indomitable manly spirit rise out of the ashes of his fears.And maybe … if Jase has provoked Uncle Bob sufficiently …. If he is feeling vindictive enough …. Maybe, if the situation presents itself …. Maybe it will be a cocky young stud’s naked hide that is Baalok’s next meal.end ................
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