“Fuck you,” he groaned at no one in particular. He did not believe the emperor wished him worked into the ground here. To starve him to death. Vologases had other plans for him. Hard to keep up that belief with a stomach that ached for food, though.
He was right. The emperor wanted him kept alive. But Nightmare continued to put him right as another agonising swipe of cruel leather bit into his stomach .. knocking him backwards. Making him yell out. His balls on fire.
Of course, the emperor would not want him starved. Nightmare kindly explained .. ignoring another stinging blast from the strap. The emperor wanted to oversee his execution himself.
Force jarred Maciste backwards, his heavy-muscled weight grinding on his balls made him hiss out.
“There is a way. To sustain that muscle for the demands demanded of it ….”
Maciste cursed loudly. The strap was again smashing up his muscled belly already pockmarked with reddening welts. And his reaction ground agony into his groin. Shocks like lightning sizzling down his legs.
“There’s meat. Meat to feed exhausted muscle …. If you want ……”
Maciste eyed his whip master. He’d stopped, he held his weapon idly out to the side. Now listening in. As if waiting for Nightmare’s signal to continue.
“End of the day .. freed from back-breaking work .. before getting locked in your hole, you have the chance to change things for the better ….”
Maciste was wary enough to know nothing came without a price.
“Earn yourself something better ……”
Maciste had been tempted out of his hole .. hoping for some food to keep him going. There it was on the barrel .. out of reach.
“Only have to do one thing …..”
Suddenly .. for no reason other than mistrust .. Maciste cast his eyes back to the guard with the strap. Gone. Maciste twisted his head around his upraised arm. There he was .. behind .. the strap outstretched .. the guard’s body was twisted round .. poised to let loose a strike. Wary Maciste kept his head twisted round. Keeping an eye on the danger. But still Nightmare prattled on.
“Simple. Earn yourself some meat to feed that beef.”
Maciste tensed. Without warning, the guard had twisted himself round. Raising his strap above his head. And still Nightmare prattled on. Like Maciste’s back wasn’t about to get a taste of leather.
“Go down on your knees.”
Maciste held his breath. Instinctively he thrust his head away. The strap was heading straight for his face.
“Crawl to me ….. “
Still Nightmare was ignoring the bite of the strap sizzling down Maciste’s back. He jabbered on.
“ ….. on hand and knees .. crawling .. like a dog ….”
The end of the strap bit at the muscle of his upraised arm. The leather tore down the breath of his muscular back. Stinging. Smarting. The force drove Maciste’s bodyweight downwards .. pounding himself in the balls. His mouth tore open. A sharp gasp of shocked pain broke free.
“On your knees. Take my cock in your mouth ….”
Maciste was barely listening. He tensed at another sound of leather already rushing at his back. Struck. On the exact same point. Pain rammed his muscled body downwards. His balls burst into flames .. Maciste’s body writhed to escape the pain. Grinding torture into his balls.
He was panting .. hard. But he HAD heard. Suck you off, fucker? Like hell I will!
He froze. At the sound of evil pain cutting up the air behind. The strap exploded across his lower back. Leather bit into the soft flesh of his side. Astride that torture wedge Maciste twisted. Pain twisted his hips around. The tree trunk tore agony out of his balls. A tortured cry broke free.
Nightmare continued. As if oblivious to the ball-torture going on.
“Suck till it is hard. Suck till it is released ….”
Fuck that! NO! Maciste’s thoughts were broken by a cry. The strap returned to the searing welt burning on his shoulder muscle .. inflamed, under the snap of leather bursting into tortured flames. Pain drove his body forwards .. doubling him up. Driving all his bodyweight into the wedge. Punching himself in the nuts.
“Swallow every drop. Your belly full of mighty Parthian seed ……”
Maciste was shaking his head. Not refusing that offer. A mindless shaking of his head .. a response to these agoniesy .. his body refusing to take in the anguish that was being mercilessly clawed out of his balls.
“Not much to do. For a ration of meat.”
Maciste bawled out. A swipe of leather tore pain out of his lower back .. clawing torture out of his side. In the middle of his cry, another blow bit at that welt on his shoulder. Driving him bodily forward. Momentum working with bodyweight to slam his balls into the edge of the wedge.