Monday, February 1, 2021

Pankration - match 9: Thicker than water (1) (written by Harry)

This is a new episode of Harry's epic series Pankration that is set in Ancient Greece. It's so huge that we split it in two. You won't have to wait for long, though: Part 2 is coming tomorrow. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did!

Previous parts:
Match 1: Tallus vs. Amun 
Match 2: Nico vs. Pollux
Match 3: Lysander vs. Ali
Match 4: Theaetetus vs. Amun

Match 5: Karma
Match 6: The barbarian vs. the seven plebes
Match 7: Secret friends
Match 8: Cat and mouse

The Princes’ Palace lurched into frenetic activity like a faithful dog spooked during a still night — wary and ferocious and posturing. The halls and galleries were inexplicably crowded. Whispered conversations bubbled up with more excitement than content. The summer night was swelteringly hot, and the dull black sky flamed to life every now and then, revealing anxious faces and wide eyes.

Theo stared at the ceiling above his bed with glazed eyes. For once he regretted that he was not alone. His mind was whirling after his recent fight, and his body was… How was his body, exactly? Hurt. That much was certain. His lip was busted, his ribs felt like they were broken, and his pitiful, empty balls throbbed hot and swollen between his legs. Even a tiny shift in position brought fresh tears to Theo’s eyes.

And Theo didn’t want to think about his ass. He looked sidelong at his nearest companions, cocking his ear to hear what they were saying about him. Did they consider his violated ass a suitable subject of conversation? Or were they too polite and just privately curious? Theo dropped his head back against the pillow with a thud. He’d been defeated. Beaten at his own game and then fucked in front of most of the young guys in the palace.

Gonna be hard to live this one down.  

Theo closed his eyes. He could still feel Alexander inside of him. The way the victorious blonde had entered him with a single, brutal thrust. From empty to fuller-than-full with no transition, no preparation. His first time had been nothing like how he’d imagined. Certainly not who he had imagined. Nothing kind, nothing sweet. Just hot and hard and implacable. But nevertheless Theo now felt emptier than he had ever been, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Alexander. About that full feeling.

Theo glanced again at the silhouettes that were milling around his room.  

You all would have nutted just like I did, he thought defensively.  

“Theo, did you say something? Do you need anything?” A shadow leaned over him, and Amun’s deep voice washed over Theo like a slow wave. The brunette relaxed and shook his head. Something in the Egyptian prince’s voice struck a chord in him and pulled him out of his reverie about Alexander. Amun’s dark eyes were hidden. Only the outline of his angular silhouette was traced by the torch light, which danced over his smooth, copper skin. Theo peered up at the prince as if he was noticing him for the first time.

“Are you hurt?” Theo asked. Without thinking he reached up and touched the young man’s cheek, gently caressing the swollen knot that had formed just below his right eye. Amun clenched his teeth but didn’t pull away. Theo’s fingertips ran down along Amun’s firm jaw as the Athenian’s memory returned in bits and pieces.

“Did you…” Theo wasn’t sure what to call it. He remembered hearing a loud crack when Alexander was pulled away from him. And then later that Amun and Alexander were fighting.

Why would Amun have been fighting?  

“It’s nothing,” Amun said with a husky voice. He looked away as if he was embarrassed. Then he looked back  down at Theo’s bloodied face and swallowed slowly. “Actually, when you were in the arena...and when that animal kept…”

“Hey, Theo! You’re awake!”

A raspy voice interrupted Amun as another familiar silhouette came into view. Wide, serious gray eyes hovered just inches from his own, and Theo groaned aloud.  

“Man, and I was having such a great day up until now, too.”

“You were?” Lysander asked. He sounded perplexed, but then relieved. “That’s awesome! Sometimes it was hard to see from where I was sitting. But you were amazing! I mean, I figured you were having fun since you…” he lowered his voice, “…you had a boner most of the time.” Lysander nodded knowingly. “And you wrestled better than I’ve ever seen.”

Theo’s mouth hung open.

If this Spartan kid is talking shit, I’m going to squeeze his…

But Lysander’s face glowed with genuine enthusiasm. “You would have submitted him three or four times!” the teen warrior babbled on, “Except he’s such an unfair fighter.” He paused and looked at Theo sternly. “You know, I could have warned you Alexander was a dirty fighter if you asked. I’m…um, I mean we’re friends, right? A little bit? So I would totally…”

Both boys were shocked into silence when Theo reached up and pulled Lysander into a hug. “We’re friends, Sander.” Theo said into his ear. “Period.”

Then, feeling the moment get awkward, he pushed the young Spartan away. “But only because I lost a bet. The other Lost Princes got the cooler friends first, and I had to take whoever was left,” he huffed dismissively. Not even Theo’s sarcasm could stop the proud grin that threatened to spill over the edges Lysander’s face. Then a heavy arm draped over his shoulder.

“Sander, give us a minute, please.” The familiar baritone had an edge to it, and Lysander quickly made himself scarce.

The Prince of Thebes was unmistakable even by candle light. Nico’s familiar scent of musk and oil and salt drowned Theo and set his mind at ease. Nico leaned over his injured best friend, his hazel eyes shining with concern and curiosity.

“You’re okay?”

“Of course,” Theo scoffed, trying to sound steadier than he felt.

“Great,” Nico flashed a brief, relieved smile and leaned down so close that Theo could feel warm breath tickle his neck. He closed his eyes and tilted his face up. “Because you have some explaining to do.”


Theo now wished he had exaggerated his injuries instead. He forced a look of pain onto his face, but it was too late and Nico wasn’t buying it.

“Why was Alexander in the Princes’ Palace?”

Theo grimaced. He had tried so hard to handle the problem of Alexander without Nico needing to get involved. Unfortunately his brilliant plan had misfired in several ways—not the least of which involved Alexander literally fucking him into submission—and now it seemed that the whole endeavor was just sparking a bigger conflict. He had to come clean.

“Umm…I invited him.” Looking into his best friend’s eyes, Theo saw bewilderment and anger, but also hurt. Seeing Nico hurt was more painful to Theo than anything Alexander had done to him.

“Why would you do that?”

“He…well, he…” For once Theo was at a loss for words. Alexander had bullied and baited his way into the Pankration. Against Nico’s explicit wishes. He’d played Theo every step of the way, but it seemed impossible to explain without making excuses. “Because I’m a dumb ass. I’m sorry.” Theo mumbled, looking away.

Nico ran his rough hand down Theo’s jaw and raised his chin back to look at him. “You’re not a dumb ass. You’re my best friend. But this is what Alexander does. He hurts people. It’s why I wanted him to stay far away.” He stood up abruptly, and his voice lowered into a growl. “Now I won’t give him a choice.”   

Nico was halfway out the door before Theo called out.


The other Lost Princes turned their heads in surprise. Seldom was anybody bold enough to get in Nico’s way when the passionate prince had determined to do something.


“You said I’m your best friend.” He glanced around the room. “We are all your friends. We deserve an explanation of who that guy is.”

Nico’s brawny hand clenched the door handle, making the muscles of his forearms dance under the candlelight. Amun shuffled his feet. Castor and Pollux leaned forward, cocking their ears. Lysander was biting his lip as his eyes darted back and forth between Nico and Theo. Then Nico hung his head, so his blonde curls hid his eyes.

“Okay. You’re right.” The assembled teens started to breathe again, until they heard what he said next: “I didn’t want any of you to know. Alexander was the first of the Lost Princes.”


Nico’s tale started with a cute childhood memory: two young boys who happened to sport matching mops of blonde curls, using the palace as their personal playground. It didn’t matter to either kid that one of them was the son of a king, and one the son of a servant. They were both energetic and competitive and enjoyed playing pranks. So once they noticed how their elders couldn’t tell them apart from a distance, the boys began to wear matching togas and olive laurels, adding to the confusion and creating endless opportunities for mischief. They spent glorious afternoons tearing around the palace, with one boy playing a prank, and then the other swooping in from the other direction to make amends before they got in trouble. The adults of the palace wondered if they were losing their minds. As time went on, the boys even adopted some of the same mannerisms as part of the game.

“He was my best friend,” Nico said nostalgically. “My first friend.”

“So…Alexander’s not really your brother?” Lysander’s confusion was shared by many of the other Lost Princes in the room.

Nico looked at him incredulously. “Huh? Of course not. That was just part of the game. It was how we played pranks and got laughs.” Nico looked around the room. “Did you guys think I wouldn’t introduce you to my own brother?”

Thunk. Theo banged his head against his headboard. “Fuck me,” he whispered, cursing his own gullibility.

“It’s okay, Theo,” Lysander said, patting his shoulder. “Alexander fooled me, too.” Theo looked up at the Spartan’s innocent smile and ridiculous colic; then he banged his head even harder.

But as the boys grew older, their characters did not mirror their appearances. Nico matured into a cheerful, loyal, and open-hearted young man. More and more, he disapproved of Alexander’s increasingly reckless and damaging pranks. Nico struggled mightily to change Alexander’s nature. He even made his best friend swear not to steal; not to set fires; not to hurt horses. But although the young Alexander was willing to make promises, he always seemed to find loopholes that Nico hadn’t thought of. Every time he did something cruel, he pretended that it was just a funny joke. But Nico knew better.

Things came to a head when they were twelve and had started wrestling training in the main palace courtyard. Nico discovered Alexander bullying a soft, kindhearted boy named Lippo. He listened in shock as Alexander taunted the boy and threatened to have “my father the king” exile his family from Thebes “for being such a lard-ass.” But when Alexander raised his fist to strike the cowering boy, Nico stepped between them. Twisting Alexander’s arm painfully, Nico made him swear that he would never again impersonate him, nor would he hurt any residents of the palace. Gnashing his teeth in anger, Alexander bit back bitter tears but swore as he was commanded. Nico released him. As a sign of their break, he pulled the olive laurel off of Alexander’s head.

When he arrived at wrestling training the next morning, young Nico surprised the other kids with his new haircut. Overnight, he had hacked off his own blonde curls with a hunting knife. The other kids howled at the sight of Nico’s ragged, choppy hair, and they swarmed him to tease and rub his head. Nico dared them all, boastful but welcoming even back then. Watching from a distance, Alexander pulled at his shining curls and sneered. His former best friend looked like a sheared sheep, but Nico was still the center of attention. Now he himself was nobody. Could he apologize? Maybe. Nico would accept him back. But to humble himself in front of that ragged boy? It was too much for Alexander. He was too smart for that, and too proud. Without anybody noticing, he left the palace.

“We didn’t have a name for it back then. But I always thought of Alex as a Lost Prince,” Nico confided to his friends. “I’m sorry he’s so lost, but that’s why he can’t be one of us. It’s easy to be cruel and selfish, and he takes the easy way.”

Hearing Nico’s story everything was clear to Theo now. And it made him feel like the worst best friend in the world. Thunk, went his head against the headboard.

Nico straightened back up and squared his shoulders. “So I guess I’m overdue to…”

Just then Nico’s story was interrupted as a distant scream was lifted by the wind and carried into the hushed room. The tension in the room boiled over as the Lost Princes looked around to see which of their number was missing. By time they worked through the head count, Nico was already long gone.


In the Princes’ Palace, the last twilight had been snuffed out, leaving amorphous clouds revealed by the occasional flash of lightening. Irregular gusts of wind menaced the torches that lit the central courtyard, threatening to quench the ruddy glow. But enough light remained to show two figures in the center of the courtyard.

Alexander was unmistakable. Bare and bloodied from his victory over Theo, he stood proudly in the middle of the arena. The shapeless jumble of fabric at Alexander’s feet didn’t have many distinguishing characteristics, but he gave a keening moan each time Alexander’s foot stomped him into the dusty floor. Nico was running at full sprint, and as he approached, the other figure’s shaggy black bangs and crumpled turban came into view. It seemed that Alexander had not been content with his win. Inexplicably, he was now crushing the scrawny Persian Ali under his bare heel.


Alexander paused as Nico approached, but he did not appear surprised. For a moment they were both illuminated by a flash of lightening. The sky was lit long enough for Nico to see a satisfied sneer curl around Alexander’s face. For a moment that seemed to span years, the two pairs of hazel eyes locked. Then the lightening flickered out and a low thunder followed.

Nico finally understood what was going on. He’s not here for Ali. Or Theo. He’s hurting them to hurt me.

“Don’t touch him,” Nico growled, stepping between Alexander and Ali. “Never touch one of my friends again.”

Alexander sniffed, looking offended. “Hmm. What makes you think he’s not my friend, too? You never did like to share friends, brother.”

Nico was incredulous that his former friend was unwilling to move on after so long. “Alex, you’ve got to knock that shit off, man. It hasn’t been funny for a long time.” His voice softened. “And people are starting to think you sound crazy.”

“Wonder who gave them that idea,” the angry young man spat, accusingly. Of course you would turn this into some pity party, he thought. “I’m teaching them to respect me, though. One by one. They’re reluctant—thanks to you—but they will all submit. You’ll see.”

Nico shook his head sadly. Man, that look...he’s lost it. If he’s this far gone, he will only be a danger for my friends. No more second chances.

“Alex, I feel bad for you. But you need to leave.” He paused. The prince of Thebes stood taller, and his voice dipped into his rich baritone. The voice of authority. “After tonight, I won’t allow you back in the palace.”

For a minute neither boy spoke. Alexander’s expression cycled through emotions as quickly as if he was leafing through a book. Finally, he gave a wry smile. His eyes were hard and glittering. “Well. If this was my visit to the place, I’m glad I gave your little brunette a night to remember.” He winked mockingly.

“What do you mean?” Nico’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing my brother would want to hear about. It was just between me and the silly twink anyway. Or, actually,” Alexander continued slyly, counting on his fingers. “I suppose it was between me, him, and... everybody else who was watching.”

Nico still wasn’t sure what Alexander was implying, but an angry flush crept into his freckled cheeks. He hated the idea of this lunatic hurting Theo, and he was done talking in circles with Alexander. “Get out,” he said coldly. Ignoring the intruder, he squatted to help Ali to his feet. Meanwhile others of the Lost Princes had arrived and were ringing the courtyard, conferring in low voices and watching the three closely.

“Sure,” Alexander raised his voice so that the others could hear him. “I’ll leave the palace for good!” His eyes fixed on Nico but he continued to speak loudly. “If you can beat me like you claim.”

Nico raised his eyebrows. The volume of chatter increased around the courtyard. “What are you doing?” he asked under his breath. He’d issued no challenge.

“But if I win, big brother,” Alexander continued so that everyone could hear, “I think I’ll move into your room instead. And I’ll fight in the Pankration until these pussies run out of tears to cry.” This last statement was received with loud booing by the Princes in the gallery. Alexander glared around defiantly.

Nico clenched his fists. He loved combat and never backed down from a fight. But this challenge—like the unhinged challenger—was too outrageous. It wasn’t right; it wasn’t possible. However, a public challenge was not easy to decline either.

Nico’s better instincts won out and he remained calm. But he couldn’t quite resist subtly putting his former friend in his place. “Not gonna happen, Alex. Anyway it’s not like it was that long ago that I pinned you every day for a month. Remember that? The good old days. They’re gone, and so are you.” Nico’s confidence was not going to be dented by such a low guy.

Alexander gritted his teeth but continued as if Nico hadn’t spoken. “Just one other little detail: You can’t get out of this one just by jizzing yourself like a loser. When you ask me for mercy, I want all my new friends here to hear it. Their ears are sore after all that brunette bitch’s moaning. They deserve a sweeter sound.”  

The atmosphere was turning ugly, and several of the Lost Princes ringing the gallery looked ready to charge the arrogant intruder. Nico’s face flushed with anger, and he stood up stiffly. His eyes locked again with the boy he knew so well, yet understood so poorly.

Nobody wins in a fight like this, Nico thought. This is the opposite of the Pankration. No friendship, no fun, no glory for either of us. What’s the point?

Nico wished he had his best friend’s counsel at that moment. Theo was (sometimes) able to temper his impulsiveness, and part of Nico was reminding him not to be rash. Nobody wins here. But Theo wasn’t there. When Nico turned around, he found an altogether different young man at his side. A little odd, maybe, but smart and worth listening to. Ali pushed his scraggly bangs out of his face and regarded Nico from behind his marvelous blue-violet eyes. For a long minute, each looked upon the other in silence. Then Nico understood what he needed to do.

“You’re on, Alex.”

Nico’s acceptance of the challenge spread a grin across Alexander’s face from ear to ear. It was the moment he’d thought about every day during his exile from the palace. The moment to show his mettle and to step out from under Nico’s shadow.

“Perfect,” Alexander whispered. “Perfect. So when shall we…grphgh…gphgh...”

Alexander was interrupted when Nico’s right hand shot forward and seized him by the neck. He gurgled and looked at Nico in shock.

“You did’t want to delay, did you?” the prince asked. Alexander’s hands clawed at Nico’s grip, but he managed to maintain eye contact and shake his head ‘No.’

“That’s the spirit!” When Nico chuckled, his dimples had never looked more menacing. With an impressive demonstration of strength, he lifted Alexander into the air by the choke and slammed him down onto the sandy floor. Alexander bounced up slightly from the impact, clutching at his neck and back and trying to roll away to safety. The audience cheered the move, delighted that they would get to see the arrogant bully get put in his place.

Nico did not waste time enjoying the applause. The Greek prince loved combat more than anything. And although he did not seek this fight against his wayward childhood friend, once he committed to the match, he would not hold back. He was certain that Alexander would not hold back either. Before he could retreat, Nico was on him. He dragged Alexander back to his knees and grasped him with another front choke.

“Do you remember what you promised? That day when you were bullying Lippo?” Nico pulled Alexander’s face to within inches of his own. The choking teen could feel Nico’s breath on his cheek. They were so close that he could map the familiar constellations of freckles on Nico’s cheeks—patterns that he remembered so intimately. Between reminiscence and lack of air, Alexander’s eyes were far away.

“I know you remember. You promised to show our friends kindness and respect whenever you met them. When you ghosted, I thought that was a shitty answer, but at least you were technically keeping your promise. Did you think I’d forgotten after just a few years? That was a mistake.”

Nico lifted the gasping teen up into the air again and held him quavering above the ground while his own shoulders rippled from the effort. The crash from the second choke slam was louder and more devastating than the first. The resulting cloud of dust reflected the torch light eerily; somewhere underneath the cloud, Alexander groaned in pain.

By now the word had spread throughout the palace and beyond that Prince Nico was fighting his own brother in the Pankration. As the rumor travelled, some facts were lost and others added on, but everyone hastened to watch. Soon the courtyard was lit bright as day with scores of their torches. Princes and sons of noble families were elbow to elbow with stable boys and students. Some believed that they were watching two blood brothers fight for a crown. Others just wanted to cheer their handsome prince on as he knocked down another bully. A few—like Amun, Lysander, and Theo—knew even more of the story, and they watched anxiously. But only two knew everything. And for the moment, they were in no position to tell the tale.

The dust cleared, and Nico stood tall. Alexander reeled from the slams, but he was sturdy and tough enough to recover quickly. Nico peeled off his simple white toga and called for oil. Ali had remained near to the action, and he massaged some olive oil into the prince’s broad shoulders as a traditional preparation for combat. As he explored Nico’s body, Ali was amazed by the heat emanating from the Greek teen’s hard muscles and smooth, freckled skin. The Persian’s deft hands could not wrap around his biceps, not even both together. Nico’s confidence was such that he allowed Alexander to pull himself up and regain some measure of composure. When Nico turned his attention back to his opponent, Ali didn’t bother joining the spectators, he just plopped down on the sandy floor to get the closest view of the action.

Now that both teens were fully nude, their similarities were even more striking. Their muscular upper bodies and quads rippled as they stalked each other around the courtyard. The flickering torch light glowed off the oiled mounds of their glutes and painted shadows in the crevices of their abs and serratus. Nearly the same shade of strawberry blonde curls hung over their ears and curled around the backs of their necks, and their matching hazel eyes focused warily on the other. If they didn’t share the same blood, then the coincidence defied belief. Under the firelight, the only tell that revealed their identities to the more distant spectators was that Nico still wore his usual olive laurel around his hair and brow.


“Hey, Theo?” The long-suffering brunette rolled his eyes. The question was unavoidable, just like the raspy voice asking it. They were seated in the front row of the gallery, just above the arena floor.

“What, Sander?”

“Why is Nico letting Alex get up?”

“Because he’s noble.” Theo closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Stupid, but noble.”

“I thought so.” Lysander watched the prince’s gleaming muscles with admiration. “I want to be just like him,” he added as an afterthought.

Theo laughed. “Which part? Stupid or noble?”



“You know what I mean though. Right, Theo?”

Theo sighed slowly. “Yeah, I do, buddy. But you should think about my question anyway. Stupid or noble. The answer's not always as easy as it sounds.”


“You will regret embarrassing me,” Alexander swore in a low voice.

Nico was startled by the hatred in his former friend’s eyes. Throughout his life the blonde prince had enjoyed competitions. He’d had lots of rivalries and participated in plenty of shit-talking. But Nico had never fought somebody who really hated him. Who wanted him to suffer more than they even wanted to win. He took a small step back in surprise.

Alexander noticed his hesitation and shoved forward with a flurry of punches. The usurper had no intention to disguise their brawl as a wrestling match. Nico was able to block most of his punches, but a couple blows to his chest and ear made Nico rethink his strategy. Demonstrating his wrestling prowess, he shot in and picked up Alexander’s ankle in one fluid motion. Caught before he could sprawl, Alexander hopped awkwardly on one foot while Nico raised his trapped leg. Alexander lashed out with a quick jab, but he didn’t have the range to connect. As Alexander hopped, his cock and balls bounced heavily between his wrenched legs; it was not a position any fighter wanted to be in for long. Nico kept his arrogant opponent in the unsteady hold a little longer. Then he pulled Alexander’s captured leg while kicking forward with a sweep at the same time. The move at the effect of wrenching Alexander’s legs apart while pulling his body down, forcing him to the ground in a semi-split.

“AAAAgghghhhgg!” Unfortunately for Alexander, he was not able to reach a full split. The corded muscles of his groin and hamstrings strained far beyond their limit, making him scream. Nico tilted his head, evaluating the awkward angle of his opponent’s legs. He clasped Alexander by the shoulders.

“C’mon, you can do it,” Nico looked at Alexander solemnly. “Bro.” With that Nico pushed down, forcing the bully into a full split against the strong protests of his own muscles. Even worse for Alexander, his pendulous nuts hit the ground just an instant before they were crushed under the weight of the rest of his body. His pretty eyes twitched.

Nico observed the round organs get smushed into the sand, and he winced sympathetically. “See, I knew you could do it,” he cupped his own crotch comically. “Maybe I should give you a personal moment?”

Nico raised his hands and stepped backward. But his show of good sportsmanship left Alexander in a difficult spot, since he needed to raise his weight off of his own nads using his hyper-extended muscles. The blonde rocked pitifully back and forth a couple times, grinding his own manhood into the sand, until he was finally able to tip over and pull his legs together. His groin and hamstrings and balls all hurt, and this time Alexander stayed down longer than before.


“Damn!” Theo felt a rush of adrenaline watching his best friend dominate his recent rival. “Man, I guess it’s true that sand is stronger than stone. Stronger than his stones at least!” The surrounding princes chuckled at Theo’s joke and mocked Alexander’s slim reproductive prospects.

“Yeah!” Lysander attempted to join in: “If he ever has babies, they…umm, they’re gonna be born with sand between their toes!” He  guffawed loudly at his own joke. The other guys stopped laughing, looking puzzled. The young Spartan looked around sheepishly and tried explaining. “Because, um, remember how Nico pushed Alex’s balls into the sand? And his balls are where babies come from. And so, it’s like…” Still nobody was laughing. He trailed off, looking to Theo for help.

The brunette rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, I get it. Like Nico squashed the sand all the way into that jerk’s nads! Good one, Sander.” Theo forced an overly-loud laugh. His save was successful, and the other guys began chuckling again. Theo punched Lysander sharply on the shoulder and got a grateful smile in return.


Meanwhile, Alexander wasn’t laughing. He hobbled to his knees, wincing as he brushed the sand from his crotch. He cocked his head right and left, as if looking for something. Maybe he was trying to take note of who was laughing at him. But before he was able to hurl any more insults toward the audience, he heard an ominous growl directly behind him. Nico’s brawny arms wrapped around Alexander just below his ribcage, and he was lifted in a reverse bearhug.

As his feet rose off the sandy floor, desperation swept over Alexander. Crushed in the grip of the studly prince, with no leverage to escape, and forced to look into the faces of Nico’s friends—this was his worst nightmare. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe. He’d rather not breathe than see their smug looks. Only one thing could make it worse…

“Alex,” Nico’s deep voice hummed against his ear. “Let’s stop this. You don’t have to prove anything. The guys can see you’re tough.” Nico’s chest heaved from the effort of holding his opponent in the bearhug, but his words were even and earnest. “It would be better for us to part like friends.”  

Fucking condescending prick.

Not only was Alexander living his worst nightmare, but Nico wouldn’t even acknowledge him as a rival. Far better in Alexander’s view to be considered a legitimate threat than to be an object of pity. But the prince wouldn’t even give him that.

Phony respect from a phony brother.

As the hatred welled up in him, Alexander's eyes glittered. His shoulders slumped, but he wasted his remaining breath uttering the most unlikely thing: “Help!”  

The Lost Princes burst into laughter. Calling for help during a one-on-one match was pathetic. But it was also ironic, since Alexander clearly had few friends among the rowdy crowd. Help from them was unlikely at best. Their jeers roused Alexander, who cast his eye around the courtyard angrily and jerked his head backward. Nico staggered momentarily, swinging Alexander back and forth. Then he dropped the desperate fighter back to his feet. For a moment both teens paused, as if stunned. A slow smile hooked onto Alexander’s face.


“Hey, Theo?”


Theo and Lysander looked at each other with bemusement.

“Did Nico let Alex go again?” Lysander sounded worried.

“I don’t think so,” Theo squinted across the courtyard, trying to make out the details of the action. “Looks like Nico got the worst of that head butt though. Bad luck.”


Indeed the blonde prince was pressing his palm against his forehead. He appeared a little woozy, and he stepped back into a defensive posture. Alexander took advantage of the pause and spun around with a heel kick, connecting with Nico’s temple. Nicos’ head recoiled from the blow, and droplets of sweat and oil from his curls sparkled in the firelight. He staggered but gathered himself. He shook his head and squinted to refocus. Alexander pivoted quickly inside Nico’s defenses, clasping him around the waist, belly to belly. Alexander heaved…and nothing happened. The audience couldn’t tell whether he was going for a suplex or trying to mimic the bearhug that Nico had held him in. Alexander flushed and gathered himself, then tried again. Again, Nico did just enough to block the move. Underneath Alexander’s angry grunts, both combatants could hear snickering from the crowd.  

Nico leaned forward and spoke quietly into Alexander’s ear. “That’s my move, Alex. You really need to find your own style, man.”

Alexander could hear the teasing in Nico’s tone. He stepped back, glaring at his would-be brother. The temptation of beating the cocky, popular prince with his own move was appealing, but Alexander had to admit it was a dumb strategy. Nevertheless when Nico flashed his dimples at the giggling crowd, notions of strategy vanished from Alexander’s mind. With surprising speed, he thrust his left hand forward and seized Nico around the throat. The prince stopped smiling and raised his hands to fend off the attack. Alexander bent his knees and heaved upward, trying to repeat the choke slam that Nico had used on him. But as with the bearhug, he didn’t quite have enough power to lift his muscular opponent one-handed. Nico was forced on to his tip toes as he clawed at Alexander’s choking grip. The two pairs of hazel eyes met. Even though Nico couldn’t speak, his old friend knew what he was thinking.

That’s my move, too.

“Wait, did I blink and miss the slam?” called a voice from the crowd.

“Like I said, just a cheap imitation!” came another.

Alexander thought he recognized the second voice as Theo’s. He snarled and bore down on the choke, making Nico’s eyes bulge and his fair face turn purple. Since he couldn’t hoist Nico the usual way, Alexander improvised. He brought his free hand forward so that he gripped Nico with both hands. Except his right hand seized his rival by his cock and balls instead of his neck.

The surprise move drew a small squeak from Nico. A rough, aggressive hand cupping his manhood was naturally alarming. The vulnerable prince looked at Alexander warily.

“Not bad, bro,” Alexander growled. The thumb of his right hand curled around the base of Nico’s flaccid shaft, but it wasn’t able to meet the tip of his forefinger. His other fingers cupped Nico’s saggy sac. His egg-sized balls were hot and slick with oil. They felt firm as rocks. Nico barely even flinched when Alexander tested his stones with a crushing grip. Alexander smiled ruefully. “Must run in the family. I can’t wait to hear you call me ‘big brother’ after you submit to me tonight.”

Nico wasn’t able to verbalize his objection, but he didn’t have time to anyway. Alexander heaved upward again, this time gripping Nico from above and below. Finally he was successful. He raised his rival high into the air, and held him suspended for a couple seconds. He took a half-step, and both fighters’ straining muscles shone in the firelight. Then Alexander slammed Nico into the ground so hard that the prince’s body bounced up before settling on his back, writhing on the sand.

Alexander held his left hand aloft, mimicking the choke and mocking Nico’s fans. They booed the egomaniacal teen loudly. If Alexander had any friends at the start of the fight, he was clearly a solitary faction now. He turned back to his opponent, who was already on his feet, brushing the sand off his bare back.

“Good move,” Nico admitted. He straightened the olive laurel that adorned his curls. The unthinking, habitual gesture infuriated Alexander.

“Good move, good move,” he muttered to himself. “We’ll see what a good sport you are when I’m wearing that pretty crown, and you are calling me ‘Prince’.”

Nico’s eyes narrowed. “Alex, I would have given you anything you asked for. But if you think you’re going to take from me, I will break you in half.” A roll of thunder echoed Nico’s deep voice.

Alexander laughed, high and hysterical. “Ha! Give it to my royal half then! And just throw the other half away. Oh! Never mind, you did already!”

Nico appraised his crazed challenger sternly but with sadness. He valued friendship above everything. And here was a friend so close, but totally beyond his reach.

“Let’s make this quick, then.”  

“That’s not exactly what I have in mind, brother. I won’t be satisfied with just a stupid olive branch. I’m going to take everything from you.” Alexander’s eyes were distant, making him look unhinged.


“Hey, Theo,” Lysander didn’t wait for his Athenian friend to answer. “I hate it when he talks like that.”

“Me too, man.”

“What does Alex want to take from Nico, do you think?”

Theo considered. He’d spent the last few days focused only on Alexander, but something about the angry poser’s motivation still resisted his understanding. “I think,” he said, squinting at the straining warriors, “I think he wants to take us.”

“Huh?” Lysander scrunched his face up in confusion.

“He doesn’t have any friends. And he thinks he can make us be his friends.” Theo hadn’t thought about it this way before, but it rang true to him.

“Hmph,” Lysander narrowed his eyes. “Can’t make me, Alex,” he taunted childishly.

Theo put his arm around the Spartan teen. For once he was appreciative of his company.


Alexander was throwing punches heedlessly, just trying to inflict any damage on his sturdy opponent. His left hand caught Nico below his eye and opened up a small cut. Flecks of blood joined the freckles that decorated Nico’s cheekbones. The punch stung, but Nico found it more annoying than painful. He countered with thunderous body shots that forced Alexander back. He’d already taken damage to the same area of his torso during his earlier match against Theo, but Nico’s blows packed notably more power.

Now that both fighters had taken some punishment, they regarded each other more warily. Alexander was limping slightly on his strained groin, and Nico’s head seemed to still be ringing. He paused a couple times to massage his temples. Alexander scooted forward to attempt a leg sweep, but Nico timed a clothesline just right and sent him back to the floor. But as he moved in for a follow up, Alexander lashed out with a kick to the inside of Nico’s knee, staggering the prince. The next time they resumed circling, both boys were limping.  


Theo’s eyes were fixed on Nico. He had watched his friend fight countless times, but something seemed off. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He turned to Amun but found the Egyptian prince already watching him.

“Something’s not right.” Amun’s deep voice was worried.

“Yeah. Nico doesn’t seem to have his head in it. Do you think he was injured when they clashed heads earlier?”

Amun squinted doubtfully. “I’ve seen Nico hit himself harder than that when I was trying to teach him meditation. Turned out that patience wasn’t his strong suit, but he has a remarkably hard head.”

Remarkably,” Theo mimicked the Egyptian’s deep monotone.  

Amun glared at him. “Or maybe he just doesn’t want to fight an old friend?”

Theo looked skeptical. He’d never known Nico to need motivation to compete, against friends or enemies. And he’d almost buried Alexander with those choke slams at the start of the match anyway, so it’s not like he was going easy.

“Let’s just hope he snaps out of it.”


Nico lunged forward for a takedown, looking to grasp Alexander and set up his favorite suplex or bearhug moves. Those power moves had the potential to finish any opponent. But in the last moment Nico grimaced and clasped his head again, losing his balance. He pitched forward clumsily. Alexander didn’t miss the opening and caught him with a knee strike directly to the side of his head. Nico reeled and spun. He managed to come up in a loose defensive position, but his head was ringing.

Alexander was pissed that Nico refused to fall, and his emotion sparked his offense. His snap kick crashed off of Nico’s well-defined abs. Astonishingly, he barely made an impact. Years of training had hardened the prince’s torso into a wall of rock-like muscle. Alexander threw two more kicks into the same spot, leaving a reddish bruise but not bowing his opponent as he wanted. Nico tightened his defense and seemed to regain some focus. He even beckoned Alexander to take another shot.

Angered by the dare and by Nico’s display of fortitude, Alexander aimed lower and snapped a kick directly between Nico’s thick quads. The smack was audible all around the courtyard, as Nico’s notoriously low-hanging nuts were plowed back up into his pelvis and cracked against his opponent’s bony foot. This blow was finally enough to make Nico double over, as the pain radiated from his testicles and coursed down the insides of his legs. He stared up at Alexander as his body tried to cope with the shock.

“Finally,” Alexander huffed. He paused to enjoy the sight of Nico trying to cradle his big, throbbing balls. He knew he’d scored a direct hit. “Bow, bitch.”

With that he grabbed Nico’s head and wrapped his arm underneath in a side headlock. Alexander stared around the courtyard for a moment, gloating. Then he dropped down with a snap, driving Nico headfirst into the floor with a devastating DDT. Nico slumped face first into the sand, barely moving. His hands were still buried between his legs, and his ass in the air. Alexander stood. As he brushed the sand from his body, his posture was markedly different from the desperate brawler who had stood there moments before. He was back in command.

“I hope you’re all ready,” Alexander taunted, pacing through the arena. “When I’m running the Pankration, you Lost Pussies will show your true colors. But,” he paused, as if looking for certain individuals among the crowd. “But those of you who whose talents have been stifled under this loser,” he jerked his thumb at Nico, who who was slowly scrabbling to his feet. “You will be able to show your quality.”

Alexander’s cold eye fell on Ali. The Persian had been in the wrong place at the wrong time before, and he had remained close to watch his friend fight. Alexander sniffed in distaste. The scrawny teen was a shapeless pile of rags—all wild black bangs and baggy, colorful clothing. The tall Greek fighter stepped toward him.

“Or lack of quality,” Alexander mused. He lashed Ali with a disrespectful kick, sending him tumbling. He grabbed one end of the long silk sash that Ali wore as a belt. One rough yank later and the cloth was in Alexander’s hand while Ali was tumbled head over heels once again. “But I guess everyone has something to contribute,” he hummed, turning back toward the arena.

By now Nico had straightened up woozily, holding his head. He’d been lucky not to be knocked unconscious by Alexander’s DDT, and he wore the mark of the blow on his forehead. He squinted in the direction of the audience. He thought he saw Theo and Amun, but it was hard to tell since the crowd remained in shadows, while he and Alex were lit by torches.

Alex. Fuck. He’s even farther gone than I imagined. But I never would have guessed that...

The silhouettes that he imagined belonged to Theo and Amun were gesturing excitedly. Nico grinned at them, showing a flash of dimple.

Huh? Theo is waving like crazy. What a goofball...

Just then Nico felt movement behind him. A silk cloth wrapped around his neck, cinching tight. Immediately his hands seized it, his fingers desperate to buy space between his windpipe and arteries and Ali’s requisitioned belt. As the blood rushed to his head, Nico heard the menacing voice in his ear.

“I said bow, bitch.”

Alexander brought his knee up between Nico legs from behind, again crushing his balls into his own body. This blow was not as direct as the kick, but it was enough to weaken his hold on the silk belt. Despite his resistance Nico felt the blood pounding in his temples and pressing in on his vision. He trashed forward and back to free himself, but nobody knew better than Alex how to anticipate his moves. He watched the silhouette (that he assumed to be Theo’s) clap his hands over his eyes, just before his own eyes became fuzzy and the Princes’ Palace disappeared into darkness.


“Oh no,” Lysander mumbled as he watched Nico slump unconscious back into his opponent’s arms. Alexander’s face was lit with predatory pleasure. He unwound the silk strap from Nico’s throat as if he was in no particular hurry. Although Lysander had only met Alexander once, he could sense the teen’s satisfaction radiating outward.

Alexander looked around as if he was expecting cheers of adulation; he was met with stony silence. Alexander heaved Nico up so that the ko-ed prince tottered on his feet, sagging back against his gloating rival. Nico’s handsome face was serene, his closed eyes framed by strawberry blonde curls. Alexander pulled one of Nico’s arms back and over his own shoulder. It appeared that they were arm-in-arm—a parody of friendship.

“What’s wrong, guys? Why so glum? Aren’t you glad me and my brother are getting along so well now?”  Alexander tugged on the back of Nico’s hair, making the prince appear to nod his agreement. The shallow stunt plastered a smile across Alexander’s face. Then he stooped and with a grunt picked up Nico over his shoulder. His arms waved loosely in front of Alexander with each heavy step they took.

“Hey, Theo? Why’s he coming over here?”

The clever Athenian had already learned the hard way not to assume that he understood the tempestuous blonde. He swallowed and watched Alexander stomp incrementally closer. His throat felt dry.

“I don’t know, Sander,” he answered hoarsely.

A low wall separated the arena from the gallery, lined with simple stone columns. Seated in the front row, Lysander, Theo, Amun, and any other guy lucky enough to get a good seat usually watched matches leaning forward with their elbows on the top of the wall. They watched helplessly as Alexander approached, bearing their friend. His hazel eyes shone with mean satisfaction. Each Lost Prince held his gaze in turn, none of them wanting to look weak. But inwardly they were nervous. Until now nobody had doubted that Nico would crush this asshole. Now they began to wonder what might happen if he were to lose.  

Alexander broke the silence. “Nico and I agreed that the match would continue until one brother asked for mercy.” He shrugged his shoulder, making Nico’s heavy body sway. “It seems he can’t ask. Since he is my brother, and I love him, I will allow one of you to ask for mercy on his behalf.” Whispers rippled through the gallery, but no one spoke up. The Lost Princes knew that Nico would never allow them to beg for him, nor did any of them feel entitled to speak for the group.

Alexander’s eyes fell on Theo. “If you won’t beg for mercy, I will break him until you do.”

Alexander squatted and readied himself. Then with a roar he heaved Nico up off his shoulder, so that he landed with the small of his back on the stone wall separating the courtyard from the gallery. The sharp impact of the stone ledge on his kidneys roused the prince into consciousness with his back screaming in pain. Nico was disoriented and didn’t understand where he was. His eyes were wide and puzzled. For a frozen moment, he teetered on the top of the wall. Then he began to fall backward, tipping over with his head and neck careening toward the stony ground with increasing speed. Alexander didn’t make a move to stop his fall.

And yet Nico’s fall did stop. His body jerked to a halt before a bone-shattering impact that might have changed him forever. He hung upside down from the gallery wall, his arms dragging down to within a few inches of the ground. At the edge of the wall, Amun and Lysander gripped Nico’s legs and ankles with sweating hands. The two panted in numb relief, as if their own necks had been at risk. They nodded to each other grimly and hung on to their friend.

Alexander’s slow clap rang through the courtyard. The challenger wore a twisted half-smile, and his eyes twitched wildly. Lysander recalled that look. The first time he’d seen it, he’d thought it made Alexander look like a lunatic. Now he was sure that was right.

“Thanks, friends. Do me a favor and just hold him right there. My brother has something to tell us.”

Although the worst had been averted, Nico was still in a bad spot. Suspended upside down, the blood rushing to his head was making it difficult to get his bearings. Not to mention the position left him splayed open and defenseless. As he tried to refocus, Nico found himself face to face with a pair of knees and quads. And above that a pair of testicles that hovered alarmingly close to his own face.

Man, what a fucking day, Nico sighed. It was clear what he had to do.

“Go ahead, Nico,” Alexander was ostensibly addressing the hanging prince, but he was mostly trying to get a reaction from the crowd of Nico’s admirers. “I will consider granting you mer...” Alexander’s voice died and his eyes crossed. “,” he finished lamely.

Nico had used his only option and driven his forehead up into Alexander’s groin. The feeling of a pair of sweaty meatballs smushing against his forehead made him wrinkle his nose in distaste. But Alexander got the worse end of the deal by far. He stumbled backward, tripping and landing on his ass, wondering how his nemesis had managed to knock his nuts into his throat from such an unlikely position.

“Damn bitch! I told you Nico has a hard head!” Amun was uncharacteristically enthusiastic. He looked around to celebrate with Theo, but he wasn’t able to find the Athenian twink in all the tumult.

Lysander however was grinning at him slyly. “That’s a bad word.” Amun licked his lip and hurried to put on his customary neutral expression. “I’m gonna tell Theo you said that.”
Amun’s retort was lost under the deluge of general laughter at Nico’s clever counter-attack. The Lost Princes were all to willing to express their amusement at Alexander’s expense.

“He’s walking like a duck now. I wonder if he quacks too?”

“And I thought his balls couldn’t get an uglier! Guess I lost that bet...”  

And on and on. Alexander gritted his teeth and straightened up quickly, attempting to hide his pain from his mocking peers. He hated them all now, almost as much as he hated Nico.

No matter how much I prove myself to be the strongest, these goons won’t see it. Why? They should be cheering my name...

“Hey, what’s that other guy’s name again? If he’s not careful Nico’s gonna turn his milk sour!”

Alexander narrowed his eyes, daring anyone else to speak. With his right hand he cupped his heavy sac, shaking his bulbous nads at the crowd in a show of defiance. Nobody could hear the muffled groan he made when his tender organs bounced recklessly in his hand.

Fuckers. Ugh, fuck me too.
He released his package before the situation could get any worse.

“You’re funny.” Alexander cast his voice to the crowd. He even forced a chuckle, as if he was joking around with friends. “I’ve been told my milk is pretty sweet, though. You’re welcome to come test it?” He tugged lazily on his girthy cock, and his white teeth flashed. Nobody spoke up to take Alexander up on his offer.

“But today’s not about me anyway! It’s about my brother.” He surveyed Nico, who still hung helplessly upside down. “Look at him. He’s practically begging to get milked.”

Nico’s eyes went wide and he began to flail his arms. He was in an extremely vulnerable position, against an unpredictable opponent. Milking was not the direction he’d wanted this fight to take.

“Alex, this is a submission match, remember? Stop dancing around and let’s fight.” Nico’s words sounded brave, but coming from an incapacitated fighter, they had the opposite effect. Alexander just laughed.

“You’ll beg for mercy one way or another, bro. But your buddies here have been begging me to test the quality of your milk. And the way your tongue’s hanging out, I sort of feel like you’re asking to taste mine.” Alexander thrust his hips forward, and his package slapped forcefully against Nico’s open mouth, stifling him. His nuts slapped loudly against Nico’s nose. Alexander was too busy gloating to notice the pain from the impact. He stepped back, and left Nico sputtering and spitting.

The villain looked up at Lysander and Amun. The two were loyally holding onto their friend and glaring at Alexander in disgust. Alexander blew a kiss to Amun, who blushed angrily. Then he looked at Lysander and mouthed silently: Pussy. No matter how much he taunted them, he knew they would never make a move at him if it meant dropping their precious prince on his head.

Perfect. Where’s that brunette bitch, though? I want him to see this most of all.

“Let’s start the show,” Alexander said to nobody in particular. He snapped his fingers a couple times over his head and stepped toward Nico again. This time he was careful to dodge the inevitable punches and headbutts. Once he was inside of Nico’s range, he brought up his knee and pressed it against the blonde’s throat, pinning him against the wall. With methodical jabs and crosses, Alexander laid into Nico’s wide open abs and ribs. The ruthless beating left no part of Nico’s stunning torso unexplored, from the muscular divots of his serratus to the sloping V of his adonis’ belt. After a couple relentless minutes, Nico’s grunts and gasps audibly punctuated each blow. Alexander found the sounds encouraging but wanted more. Without warning his fist hammered down on Nico’s bare balls. The prince’s eggs hung low and completely open to assault. Alexander’s knuckles bore into the meaty flesh and drew a shriek from Nico.

“Finally,” Alexander sighed, wiping his brow after throwing so many punches without getting a reaction. The Lost Princes booed the unsporting move. Alexander meet their glares, one after another, and each time he looked at a different face, he pounded Nico’s jewels. Alexander knew all their names, even though he was a stranger to them.

You’ll remember my name after this, pussies.  
Tallus. An elbow thwacked with terrible accuracy between Nico’s spread legs.
Pollux. A chippy jab flattened Nico’s flaccid penis.
Mani. An insulting slap made Nico’s testicles bounce in their loose sac.

Nico was squealing loudly now, and the onlookers flinched with each blow.

“Stop hurting him!” came a plaintive, trembling voice from the crowd. The fat baker’s assistant cowered when the bully turned toward him. He remembered Alexander all too well, and the memory made him want to disappear.

“Who’s that? Lippo? Ah, Lippo, maybe Nico will listen to you since he treasures you so much.” Alexander hoisted Nico’s balls in his hand. The fat jewels were too large and spilled over his palm. He removed his knee from Nico’s throat and stepped back. The prince’s arms hung limp and heavy, and his jaw was slack.

“You heard him, Nico. Want to keep being a man? Just ask for mercy.”

The suspended teen seemed barely conscious, but he shook his head adamantly. Alexander looked impatient, but he maintained his composure. After all he was in total control now.

“He’s more of a man than you!” somebody else yelled.

Alexander looked sullenly at Nico’s package. Even dented and bruised, the prince’s manhood was undeniably impressive. Alexander was not lacking between the legs, but nevertheless he couldn’t help wounding how he measured up to his rival. Nico’s testicles were heavy in his hand, and they pulsed lightly with each beat of his heart.

“Do you want to show your friends how much of a man you are?” Alexander growled quietly.  

Nico didn’t bother to answer a second time, he just spit at Alexander. Alexander looked vaguely over his shoulder and snapped his fingers impatiently. “Try harder!” he hissed, casting his voice out into the courtyard. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Alexander was truly sounding like a lunatic now, even talking to himself. But as if on his cue, Nico appeared to lose focus and his head dropped woozily down. Alexander peered closely at his former friend, but he saw no trace of resistance. To test his authority, he ran his other palm up over Nico’s oil-slicked abs before wrapping it around his naked cock. He gave a long, sensuous tug. Nico moaned but barely objected. The villain looked up at the audience with delight.

“I guess he does want to show us how much of a man he is,” Alexander tutted. “He always was a shameless show-off.” He picked up Ali’s silken belt. He had already used it to choke his opponent, and now he could use it for gentler but no less humiliating purposes. He wrapped the cool, smooth cloth around Nico’s bulging scrotum, caressing his fat nuts and testing them with forceful squeeze. Nico groaned. His nuts ached horribly from all the pummeling so far, but this combination of pain and pleasure was different and confusing.

The stands of silk swished down, wrapping like smooth tendrils around Nico’s cock. Suspended upside down as he was, his penis swung freely down over his lower abs. The steady massage of his balls made his tube thicken and swell, and the soothing silk felt like a slick tongue, licking him incrementally closer to a full erection. Alexander stooped and tied the other end of the silk around Nico’s neck. This time he didn’t use it to choke him but tied it just enough to keep the strand taut.

When he stood again, Alexander got his answer about just how much of a man Nico was. The prince’s majestic scepter pulsed boldly, drawing the hood back from over his rosy pink cock head. He’d even leaked a bit, leaving a dark stain running down the silken sash. And despite the full-force blows that they had taken in this fight, Nico’s prodigious nuts looked more magnificent than ever—fat and round and virulent. Jealous that Nico would be superior even in defeat, Alexander punished those precious nuts with a sharp backhand. Before Nico could even register the ball shot, Alex pushed his thumbs into the underside of Nico’s exposed glans, twisting his fingers into the teen warrior’s tenderest crevices and making him howl in shock and agony.

“I own you, brother,” he spat. “Now let’s see how a prince submits his seed.”

A nearby sob pulled Alexander out of his own head. He looked up above the wall into the gallery. Although he had tried to keep a brave face, the young Spartan Lysander was devastated to see his admired idol so exposed and abused. His tanned cheeks were streaked with tears. He still held Nico’s leg to keep his friend safe, and he stroked the trembling limb awkwardly.

Lysander’s unabashed misery made Alexander take a step back. This was not the reaction he’d expected. His eye fell on several other Lost Princes and random spectators who were similarly distressed. Alexander took another step back.

I can accept it if they don’t love me for being stronger. Maybe that was wishful thinking. I can even accept them booing me. That’s not so bad any more. But crying? For this? For him? Who can understand that?  

Alexander sneered up at Lysander, planning to call him a pussy. But the words died on his lips. Instead, he looked over his destroyed opponent. From the more distant perspective, the prince’s golden glow was diminished. Alexander could see Nico’s corded muscles strain and tremble from being suspended for so long. Sweat poured off his body, running down the ridges of his abs, down his lifeless arms, and dripped steadily into the thirsty sand. The veins stood out on his forearms, biceps, and pecs, making his muscles look strong but vulnerable. Nico’s hazel eyes—usually so alert and playful—were glazed over and drifted aimlessly.

Alexander noticed with satisfaction the pattern in Nico’s struggling. Each time Nico twisted or tossed his curly head in discomfort, the silken band around his neck tugged on his nut sac and swished over his cock head. The prince would try to lean upward to ease the pressure on his bound manhood, but each time his strength wore down, he paid for it with the compression of his bruised testicles and the stimulation of his jutting cock.

“You cry when I beat your hero?” Alexander noted quietly. “Very well. I should only use blows on a worthy opponent anyway. I can own this pathetic piece of meat with less effort than that.”

Alexander began to mess with the bound prince in a way that might have seemed playful in other circumstances. A tweaked nipple. A tug of the hair. A couple nut taps followed by goofy flexing. It was almost like Alexander was making one last attempt to charm the crowd, to show he was just one of the guys. But out of the corner of his eye, the sly challenger noticed how every jolt of Nico’s thrashing body piled on just a little more pressure where it mattered most. The teasing was incrementally choking Nico’s nads and polishing his cock just as effectively as if Alexander had been doing it with his fists.

Nico had come to the same realization. He stared bleakly at Alexander, still disbelieving that his former friend would own him so thoroughly in front of the entire palace. The throbbing pain in his balls cascaded through Nico’s body, followed quickly by waves of pleasure from his sensitive cock. The breath hitched in his throat. He was frozen. Any more stimulation and his ripe nads would empty themselves in pathetic submission.

Alexander could see the defeat in Nico’s look. He winked and brought his thumb and forefinger together, aiming his hand at Nico’s slick, blushing glans. He wanted all of Nico’s friends to know that their hero was defeated with a single flick of his finger.

What could be more demeaning? Or more appropriate... Alexander thought.

“Nico’s done,” Amun said solemnly. His dark eyes looked over his friend’s tortured arousal mournfully. “He is as brave as any prince in the world, but no guy could take any more.”

Lysander shook his head disbelievingly. But he looked down over Nico’s racked body. His idol’s wrapped up privates and trembling cock looked ready to pop. He didn’t want to watch Nico submit, especially in such a degrading way.

“Hey, Amun?”

“What, Sander?”

“Where do you think Theo went?”


to be continued


Buster said...

Amazing! Can't wait to read Part 2 :)

Harry said...

Buster, thanks for reading man, and I’m glad you liked this story! Alex is gonna post the second half tomorrow.

GinoJaydenAuthorJimmy said...

Dear Harry,

You are so in the zone now with your writing, and it's been a pleasure to watch you get better and better as the series has gone on.

The buildup to this has been crazy and it's going to be one hell of a finish!

Amazing work Harry, your series is phenominal!



Harry said...

Jimmy, thanks my friend! Your feedback has helped me a ton as I’ve worked on these stories. Hopefully the ending lands ok:)

GinoJaydenAuthorJimmy said...

Harry, the ending is fantastic; and you know it! What an incredible journey!