Invasion

A tyrant’s voice

“What have you done with my friends?”I felt a rumble of annoyance at the scornful tone this princeling still spat out. But then his eyes adjusted to how he was situated. The macho bravado had an underlying edge of fear to it. I smirked back at him, I shrugged. I felt his confidence wilt like a balloon with a hole. I shouldn’t have graced this cocksure little prick with an answer. But I did. All the more to wind his useless royal-dick-ness up.

The regal brat had resisted of course. Sight of the wedge did that to a man. After all, this used to be his father’s own dungeon, he recognised the implements of torture. Had he seen men suffering on this wedge himself? Had he come down to these dungeons to gloat over an enemy caught?He’d struggled when the guards were ripping him out of his clothes. Fought like a she-cat when they were lifting him up onto the wedge. Held-down by a half-dozen men, bare legs thrashing out. Hardly the indomitable warrior he purported to be by this invasion he’d led. The self-styled saviour of his people fearfully evading grinding pain .. where was the brave hero of the nation now?But then .. he knew what was coming .. the agonies he’d feel. He’d grunted like a stuck pig when deliberately they’d slammed his royal crutch hard onto the leading edge. Crashed his torso down. Brought a tear to his spoilt royal-brat eye. Failing to cope with the sharp pain, his princely teeth biting on his bottom lip.

“You mean that mercenary scum you landed with?”I could see the discomfort had already started to set in. He was starting to squirm. Trying to find somewhere in the universe that was going to be more comfortable for a pair of princely balls . But surrounded by men eager to see him hurt .. he had no escape from the torment of the wedge.“Friends,” he retorted sharply back. “My friends…”

His bravado was cut short. His answering-back stopped in his royal gullet. In an instant my man had grabbed hold of his hair. A giant, a brutish-looking oaf, a favourite of mine for jobs like this. Bare to the waist, evil-looking muscle-head. Nothing between the ears but a heart of pure black. Did he like hurting! Got a rise out of it, I guess. Got the blood going watching him. He yanked the royal scalp back. His other hand closed down on the princeling’s exposed throat. And squeezed. Crushing his royal windpipe. Cutting off his air.Interested I watched. Dispassionate as the boy tried to defend himself .. forced to stop using his hands .. trying to relieve the weight pressing down on his crutch. His hands grabbed at the

stranglehold. Feeling the pressure building in his head. Feeling even more now that pain digging into his balls. As he squirmed, the prick was digging the sharp wedge into himself. His fingers clawed at the vice squeezing the life-force out of his body. His squirming scraped pain through his crutch. Such a prick. Torturing himself. What a royal delight.

“SHUT IT!”The bald ogre snarled.“One more word out of you … and …”Forcibly he lifted the young prince up by the neck. Physically lifting his royal princeling-ness up by the neck. Strangling him and stretching him at the same time. Lifted until the manacles on the prince’s ankles would let him go now further.“And you get this ..”

Forcibly my ogre slammed the prince’s body back down. Hit by lightning in the balls. Smashed by a battle-axe between the legs. The prince bawled, coldly I felt his cry echo off bare walls. Pain shot up into his guts. Is there any pain like a kick in the balls? Slammed down, crushed in the nuts. A knee in the gonads - that distinctive pain crashed through his royal body .. A pain that seats itself in the back passage and grinds eye-watering pain out of every fibre. Hard for a princeling to look tough when agony is being drilled out of his arse. Eagle’s talons scraping tears of pain out of him.The pained cry was so crippling he was nearly tipping off the wedge. But my bald giant still had him by the scalp.“Or else ,” the shaven-headed oaf snarled into the suffering prince’s ear. Like something that had just crawled out of the primeval slime.

“They are being taken care of ..”Dispassionately I continued our conversation as if nothing had just happened. “These friends of yours …” Answering his concern for the scum that had joined his invasion. But he seemed to have other interests now, this prince was paying little attention. Too much preoccupied with his balls. Well, that’s young men for you ..

Farewells

“But I thought you’d enjoy a simple farewell party …”The prince threw me a look of hatred from his uncomfortable face .. the wedge was getting to him. Frowning. Knowing he could expect no kindness here.“They are being taken to the galleys .. your friends, I mean .. “I was pleased to see he was giving me more attention now. Pleased also to follow the trickle of pain running down my dumb prisoner’s cheek. I mean, .. organising an invasion .. planning to take his father’s kingdom back .. when he couldn’t organise the proverbial piss-up in a brewery. He had earned every teeth-clenching moment of hurt grinding into his balls.“To work at my pleasure .. to serve me .. to spend the rest of their miserable lives at the oars … as befits mercenary scum …”He looked away quickly. Getting transfixed by my gaze .. it does that to some men. Even brave men. Not foolish royal pricks like this one. Thinking a few of his spoiled noble friends could overthrow a coup.

His friends, the prince’s young friends and countrymen. Trained in the noble school of fighting. Fools such as himself had rallied to his cause at the success of my takeover. Fearful of what was happening to their families. More likely .. unsure of what was happening to their wealth. They needn’t have been in any doubt. What was happening was crystal-clear. After all, what does happen to the old regime under a conquering tyrant’s heel?

But my guest was proving a poor communicator. The pain between his legs seemed to be keeping his mouth clamped shut.“At dawn tomorrow .. ,” I explained. “I’m having you taken to the galley. To let them bid you a fond farewell.”I could see it on his body, written in the trembling in his flesh. The tremors of pain from the wedge. Gritting his teeth. Veins standing out in his neck straining with the effort not to show it. I spotted another tear of pain release itself down his cheek. But these signs of physical suffering were now joined now by a princeling’s sense of foreboding. A fond farewell from his friends? Everything he thought he knew about “this evil tyrant” had taught him to watch out for my tricks. Rightly so ..

“They won’t be dressed for the occasion of course. Not suitable to appear in your royal presence ..”He did not seem to share my sense of humour. After all, a princeling about to undergo torture had precious little need of clothes himself.“What need has a galley slave for clothes? How could they piss while at the oars?”

I sniggered. “Even men as noble as your friends have to shit …”

I enjoyed his look, bristling with futile anger, gloated at a naked prince’s pointless scowl. But noticeably he looked quickly away. Evading my gaze. Fifty foolish men had landed with the prince. Betrayed, of course, .. sold-out. Money can buy most things. After the ambush barely twenty had survived, my soldiers had orders not to suffer fools gladly. The slaughter they’d wrought had been fitting .. to repel these naïve invaders. And to deter any others who might be dumb enough to try.Now the miserable rump of his noble fools had been condemned to slavery. Chained at the oars until fate was kind to them and released them from the taskmaster’s whip. Already regretting listening to this dumb princeling’s rants about an invasion. Soon to be regretting they had not died of their wounds after the fight.

He was struggling to control his discomfort. Any movement was only intensifying the grating anguish choking up the muscles of his body. Those sharp claws of agony digging in around his nuts threatening to trip him out of control .. grind him down in a maelstrom of weakening torture.“Dressed in leg irons. Only .. Nailed in perpetuity to the deck. Never to leave that bench for the rest of their miserable lives.”I registered his shiver of anger at the thought. Or was that guilt?“Eat there. Piss there. Shit there.”Yes, maybe that was a tremble of shame that he had brought his friends to this?“THAT is what you have gifted them .. your friends ..” What a pleasure to rub his nose in the bitterness of his failure.

“But they will be saved that final indignity .. nailed in place .. until you have met. ““The evil tyrant” .. that was how his rumour-mongers had characterised me .. I returned the princeling’s scowling look. I smiled.“Party-time .. a fond farewell ..”My heart lifted, I didn’t bother not to gloat. After all, who held the upper hand? This time he did manage to hold my gaze. But my look soon froze him out.“But not chained to the deck .. not yet .. not until they have had the chance to bid you a cheery goodbye …”

Should I leave it at that, I wondered? Just with a hint of threat hanging? Letting his suspicions read the cold glistening in his enemy’s eyes?

Where destiny leads

The grill above his head slammed shut. A firm resounding sound that offered no hope. Stuck in this hole underground. Arms still bound behind his back. The only light disappearing with their torches. Casting him into blackness. And with it the threat of the onset of dismay.

He hurt like hell. That burning between his legs. How long had they left him astride that wedge? Pain digging into his groin. Agony torturing his balls. Weakening his spirit.

Back on the wedge he’d fought like crazy when he’d realised .. that things were moving up a level .. when that bald-headed brute had started tying cord around his wrist. It hadn’t taken much to stop his struggles. A pair of stunning blows thrown at his head. An elbow driven into the back of his neck. When he’d come round, - head reeling, confused, lost - his arms were tied high behind his back, each wrist bound to an elbow. And still sitting astride that fucking wedge. Arms no help, feet manacled .. no chance of relieving the fucking-awful pressure.

“Tomorrow .. at sunrise …,” his captor had moved next to him gloating. That murderer who had wiped out his family. Risking being close now his prisoner was no danger ..the coward ..“.. your friends will bid you a fond farewell …”.He knew better than to trust anything this tyrant had to say. But … he feigned disinterest. Not difficult to concentrate his mind elsewhere .. pre-occupied by the swelling of pain between his legs. But deep-down curiosity was still getting the better of him ..What was all this fond-farewell crap about?“When they get to their galley .. you’ll be waiting .. the host .. welcoming long-ling friends ..”Friends condemned to misery on a slave galley .. because of him .. some final farewell to friends! Not out of any concern .. not any friendly gesture thrown his way by this tyrant .. it wouldn’t be. Suspicious he listened .. even though his appearance feigned disinterest.

It had been hard keeping eye-contact anyway. The cruel usurper was stood next to him on the wedge, his face only a pace away. But he found it hard to return his look. He had eyes .. eyes that froze .. a look that had no soul. He felt like trapped by that gaze .. like putting your hand on ice . ice that could burn. And that grinding in his crutch .. forcing tears to his eyes .. tears he was not willing to show. But to look strong he had to keep throwing the murderer disparaging glances.

He saw a smile on that smug face .. this bastard was enjoying the discomfort that was forming around the prince’s features. Put there by their agony between his legs. But no sign of pleasure

here. Here was a man who could kill without a thought .. this usurper, this tyrant who had wiped out his family .. in the most vicious ways. Because, as far as he was concerned, it had to be. No insane killer .. no mad dog foaming at the mouth. A cold heartless killer. Any captive could look forward to no mercy here.

The prince looked straight ahead feigning indifference. But in truth evading those chilling eyes.“We’d do it sooner,” the tyrant explained gloating. “But it will take time to get your fool-hardy friends riveted into leg irons,” he shrugged. Describing them as if they were the most natural apparel in the world.“And to shave them of body hair ..”The tyrant caught the scowl of anger that flashed round at him.“A kindness .. to save them from the lice, you know ..,” he explained. Looking as if he gave a damn ..

Shaved .. his friends .. to humiliate them. To shame everything that was manly about his friends. He snarled. He put his every feeling of contempt into his glare. But seeing his anger countered by the tyrant’s indifferent shrug.

“One-by-one, they’ll shuffle their sorry selves aboard. Finding you pinned at the mast.”The tyrant was painting the picture for his victim. To wind him up. A picture of his failure bound at the mast .. a final meeting with those who had failed in this mission with him. A meeting to make him feel small. To shame him for his failure. But .. the prince was sensing no sign the tyrant was getting pleasure from this. Tormenting .. torturing .. playing with his mind .. all second nature to this monster who had conquered his father’s lands.

“Can you see it? What joy at this reunion! Don’t you think?”The prince rankled at this usurper rubbing his nose in his own failure. Meeting with noble friends .. naked .. shaved of all dignity .. leg-irons rattling over the ship’s deck .. “Bid farewell to the prick who had lead them into this. Who got them condemned for the rest of their miserable lives hauling on the oars. The whipmaster hovering never far away.”The prince felt anger. His blood boiled. He was itching to get his hands around this cocksucker’s throat.But he also felt weakened by shame. Tormented by guilt. That his just efforts to drive off this usurper had brought them all to such a calamity.

A night in this hole before having to face the men who were condemned to slavery because of him. A night burning up. With guilt. With the pains from the wedge. And aching like hell from that last vindictive move from the ugly bald-headed coot. Cinching cord around his agonised crutch. Loops of tight leather around his shaft and ballsack. He’d thought he’d faint, the rough handling on his already agonised manhood took his breath away. The pain .. another assault on his strength of will.Dumped in this hole, hands tied behind his back, his cock trapped in an infernal hard-on. Fires ablaze in his tortured balls. His aching cock like it was being kissed by a branding iron. Pains gnawed ravenous at his guts, the heat consumed his body and tormented sweat poured down his face.There’d be little or no rest this night. Robbing him of any strength for when he had to face his friends. And confront failure.

Farewells

Cast into this pit. Held captive by that grill above his head. His balls on fire, his guts aching like hell. Exhausted. He had no idea how long he had endured that wedge. It had hurt, the pains still drive him mad in this hole. Hands helplessly tied behind and that boner forced on his aching nuts. Fearful of the next hours.. fearful of that meeting at dawn.

What sight was going to meet his eyes? Hailed by the sounds of the slow clanking of iron being dragged by dispirited legs shuffling on to the galley ship. His friends naked, shaven, in dismay. Looking like slugs, like disgusting creatures from a nether world .. stripped of every shred of manly dignity .. this degradation their reward to answering the summons to his cause. The hair on their heads roughly shaven off .. legs, arms, the enemy’s blades had brutally shorn them of any mark of manly worth. Heavy-hearted, in the filth of their degradation they’d drag their leg-irons aboard the slave galley to which they had been condemned. And meet him tied at the mast. The cause of their misery. The rest of their lives chained at the oars .. slaving under the blinding sun in their own filth. And there he was to greet their shame .. the man who had dragged them into this.

Ugly in their shaven nakedness .. not a trace of manly worth in their degraded lives .. the air would be prickling with fiery emotion. Anger, resentment , bitterness .. at best a brutal sense of hopelessness .. strong passions would greet him stood captive at the mast. How were his eyes going to face their condemnation? Their denunciation that he had dragged them down to this.

“Going to get the chance to express their gratitude. To their prince. To the fool who is condemning their nobles arses to life-long slavery.”Back in that dungeon, his balls burning from being astride that wedge .. wanting like hell to show nothing to this tyrant smirking into his face. But busting like crazy to get that agony from digging into his crutch.Gloating his captor had paused. From his look the prince knew more was coming. The coldness in his eyes seemed capable of freezing the prince’s soul.“They’ll be given the choice. To give you a present .. or get one themselves.”He chortled to himself. A chilling laugh that matched his eyes.“Give you five lashes across the chest. A fond farewell. An expression of their feelings.”The young prince saw the image painted for him. In ice-blue tones. First light .. chilly air .. near-naked. Hands tied above his head, back to the mast. The whip being placed in his friends’ hands. He did the arithmetic. About twenty had survived the ambush.

“Laid on hard. A fitting fond farewell.”The usurper nodded in satisfaction to himself.“Either that .. or … get twenty lashes themselves ..”The prince saw the trick. A few would refuse, take the punishment themselves. Putting loyalty and friendship above all else. But most ..? What did they owe him? What had he got them into? The burning resentment they felt .. the crushing need to lash out and burn off their self-pity .. the raging anger they were driven to vent .. lashing out, any object for their hate would do.

Already the aching between his legs was getting painful. No way he could relieve himself, hands tied high behind his back. He saw the tyrant nod. That bald-headed coot approached. A bag was thrown over the prince’s head. A drawstring around the neck pulled tight. Thrown into darkness.“Incidentally .. that big brother of yours ..how ‘d you put up with him?”The prince gave up any idea of trying to dislodge the hood that had cast him into blackness. He listened trying to steel his resolve through the sack. Helped by the rush of anger at being reminded of his brother’s cruel murder. His feelings for this oppressor powered by the pain driving up between his legs. Set alight by his hatred for the cruelty of this man.“Mouthy fucker .. he couldn’t stop his gob .. wouldn’t let up.”

He had hero-worshipped his courageous older brother. Eight years his senior. All his childhood he’d wanted to grow up to be just like him.“This wedge, though .. that did it for him .. would you believe how a grown man can whimper like that?”The pains starting to cripple the young prince between the legs more than convinced him. No shame at such tears of pain.“Took him a couple of days .. sitting here like you .. but eventually the motherfucker stopped shouting off his fucking mouth.”

His idol, his big brother .. everyone knew what had happened. Taken out to the market place. Nailed hands and feet to a cross. Hung naked for days. Reports had come to him in a far-flung land. The cruelty of his brother’s execution. Slaughter. Butchered. Crucified while the market was supposed to go about its business. And when no strength was left .. when death must have been his brother’s only desire .. the monsters .. these animals .. They’d slit open his gut. Hauled out his viscerals .. let his insides flop to the earth. He’d prayed his brother’s end had been fast. But his dreams had tortured him with the agonised screams of his brother. Having no effect on the street dogs who fought over snatching the meat at his feet.

What had that tyrant hissed through that sack over his head? The only heir? The last-born child? With him gone .. no survivors to claim the throne.In the darkness of his hood he saw those eyes chill on him. Those killing eyes .. that soulless gaze. He shivered. If this cocksucking tyrant had gone for his older brother like that … publicly viscerating him .. what now did he have in mind? For the end of a royal line?

end