Praetorian Punishment

"You must be punished," she said simply as she rose from her throne and moved towards him, with no malice or benevolence, just fact.

The Praetorian did not move from his position, a modified parade rest given that he was in the private presence of his queen. Hands curled in at his sides, legs spread to shoulder width--he was the picture of a trim soldier. As she looked him over, she wondered how long he had spent getting ready, his black leather harness polished to a gleam, as was his silver phallocrypt, the shiny metal identifying him as a junior officer. Without warning she reached between his legs from behind and cupped his ball-sack. He let out a muffled moan but did not move.

"Nicely trimmed, Testlo" she said, using his name while commenting on the short, regulation cut of the pubes covering his sack, which she touched gently, trying to make him squirm as she fondled his manhood, but his discipline kept him at position. His head hair had been trimmed as well, almost shaved on the sides and back, cropped at the top. His dark hair and short-cut beard giving the appearance of a helmet outlining his head and face. She lingered a bit longer, rolling his glands between her fingers--his stamina was impressive, and she also knew that his cock was erect and filling his horim. Then she touched the hilts of the pair of battle daggers crossed and secured at his back, a broad and well-muscled expanse of skin criss-crossed with the scars of many battles. The pommels were dragon heads, the symbol of his house, fashioned from black steel with hand grips covered in what appeared to be pebbled leather. Only a praetorian could carry weapons in her presence and she wondered how much blood had been spilt by them. She knew that he had personally sharpened them to a razors edge.

"Your battle daggers are impressive."

"Thank you, my queen, they were my grandfathers."

"Ah yes, Legatus Drago--he served my mother well. The handles are quite unique, are they not?"

"Yes Queen, they were fashioned from the tanned scroat taken after my grandfather captured the rebel Bello of Aquinate. His pene was fed to the dogs as he bled out."

"I recall his emasculation, it was quite a noisy affair--I think I was ten winters at the time. Well, enough chit-chat, you know why you are here."

"Yes Queen, I am prepared for the consequences."

"Remove your armor and put it on that curule over there."

He removed his harness and horim, laying the assembly gently down onto the chair, besides his boots, it was his only clothing. He started to pull off his boots when the queen stoped him. "Leave those on."

She moved to the open center of the round throne room where the granite tiled floor was worked in a spiral pattern, the large circle at the center inlaid with gold showing the insignia of her house, the Mascular. She pointed to a spot just in front of where she stood and Testlo dropped down to his knees and then leaned into a position of obeisance before her.

The queen raised her arms and began to chant in the ancient tongue:

Mascular dy nerth, yn nerth dioddef!

The room darkened as the fire in the four compass-point braziers mounted around the periphery dimmed. A crack of lightning rang out and a sulphorous smell of Hades filled the air. Again she chanted:

Mascular dy nerth, yn nerth dioddef!

The Praetorian looked up and was dumbstruck to see her naked and surrounded by yellow clouds of smoke that swirled along the pattern on the floor.

Dioddef dros y gwir, ag yn y gwir pob goleuni!

His mouth dropped open as he watched the transformation begin. The queen grew in size, her skin darkening with coarse hair, muscles inflating and taking on a male aspect. Testlo could not help but stare at her cunt, further transfixed by the developing cods, the lips of her womanhood expanding to become pendulous balls the size of lemons, then a cock, growing from her clit, thickening and lengthening as he gaped. Her breasts flattening and spreading against her chest, manicured feet extending into stocky hooves, arms and legs bulging with thick brawn. The most stunning of all was the head, now transmuted from coiffured queen to that of the Mascular. Huge horns grew back from the top of the massive skull, curling up and behind to take an omegic shape. Now Testlo noticed the tail, snake like and sinuous, elephantine.

Again a crack of lightning, but this time the braziers powered into a blue-tinted brilliance illuminating the raw manliness of the fully formed Mascular. It raised beefy arms up and roared, Testlo feeling the heavy spray of its spittle and hot, acrid breath.

"PRAETORIAN!" it bellowed, and the man steeled himself but did not flinch.

"Sir!" Testlo replied, shouting.

The Mascular squatted down on dog-leg haunches, shaking as if to throw off the effects of the transformation.

"Bring me wine, fool!"

At first, Testlo was stupefied, but regaining his composure he quickly scrambled to the sideboard, selected a kingly-sized chalice and filled it with wine, quickly getting it into the outstretched hand of the Mascular, who with a quick gulp drained it and then pushed the empty vessel back at him.

"More!" As the man scrambled to refill, the Mascular sighed and leaned back comfortably on his heels.

"Ahhh...I have not had wine in ages," the monster breathed in a deep, guttural voice, taking the cup again, but this time sipping slowly.

"The bitch keeps good wine, I will give her that much," he confided, looking down at Testlo, who had once again taken to the floor in front of the beast, which was now sporting what he could only imagine was a smile. The man grew brave.

"Sir, you are not still the queen?" he asked, as timidly as a man of his battle-scarred prowess could muster.

"BOY!" the Mascular bellowed, "DO I LOOK LIKE A QUEEN? More wine!"

Again Testlo refilled the cup, but now decided he was best off staying out of conversation with the beast.

"I suppose we should get to your 'punishment'. What did you do?"

"I killed Praetus, the commander of the guard."

"...and how did you do that?" the Mascular asked, almost bored at where the conversation was going.

"He challenged me to duel, I killed him with my daggers," Testlo explained, glancing over to the chair holding his weapons.

"Well good for you, but how does that warrant a visit with me? More wine."

"Well, Sir," Testlo replied as he refilled the chalice, thankfully noting the large covered krater from which he could replenish the ewer he had been using. "Duels are forbidden and killing superior officers is considered especially heinous." The young man smiled at this as he was quite happy with what he did.

"What prompted this duel?"

"Well, he pushed me too far. During inspection he put his finger into my bung. He then summoned me to his chambers and declared that I would be his eromenos. When I refused, he challenged me."

"Why did you refuse? More wine."

"Sir, I am not of that way!"

"I see. The course of your 'punishment' is decided then. We will wrestle, if you win then you will return to your unit unscathed. If I win, well, we shall see."

"Sir, how is the victor decided?"

At that the Mascular let out a bellowing laugh that echoed in the huge chamber, then "More wine!"

As Testlo scrambled once again to refill his cup the beast continued "There are rules boy. First, for you there are no rules, you may use whatever you can to subdue me, even kill me. Contrary to what you may think, other than my physique, I have no special powers nor am I invincible. That said, for me, I will not strike you with my closed fist nor will I pierce your skin or break bones in any way--although bruises and torn sinews are quite in play!" and he guffawed at his rhyme. "The victor is decided by the vanquished. Now stand over there and ready yourself, but first, more wine!"

Testlo was very pleased at this revelation. Since attaining manhood, he had won the laurel crown at the midsummer games for wrestling each year, over a decade of wins. Now, the Mascular was certainly not the men he had beaten in those contests, but he knew that skill could often best brawn, even a bearish brute. Also, in his favor was the fact that the beast had drunk enough wine to put ten men under the table--it had to have affected him. Anyway, his plan was simple, charge the beast, hit him quickly in the groin and take him down. Testlo took his position as the Mascular put down his cup. The monster crouched and then bellowed, "Begin!"

Testlo shot forward and charged, but the Mascular sidestepped him, moving astonishingly fast in spite of his huge bulk, hooves clacking loudly on the tiles. As the Mascular stepped aside he landed a loud, smacking slap to one of Testlos ass cheeks causing him to tumble forward onto the hard floor, yelping in pain. Regaining himself, Testlo charged again, wildly. This time the Mascular did not step out of the way, but instead he crouched and slapped Testlo roughly across his face. "Owww! Unjust! You said you wouldn't hit me in the face!"

"No boy, I said I wouldn't hit you with a closed fist, that was a slap, like this one." He slapped Testlo again, hard enough to snap the mans head sideways. "If I hit you with my fist you'd be knocked out--I want you awake." The Mascular snorted merrily as he noted that Testlo reeled dizzily from the slaps, which might as well have been punches from the beefy paws that were wielded. Angry now, Testlo tried to kick the monster between its legs, aiming for its huge, pendulous balls, but the Mascular just grabbed his foot and flipped him roughly onto the floor.

"Time to end this, boy" he growled as he pounced on Testlo. The young man's breath left him as the monster rapidly crawled over him like a huge spider, lifting his legs up to his shoulders and locking Testlo's muscular arms against his openly splayed thighs.

"I am surprised that you let me get you tied up so quickly. You should be feeling a great deal of pain right now, but not enough, yet, to be damaging."

Testlo's legs were spread wide, his butt was elevated and his head painfully pushed towards his crotch. All he could see in front of his face were his own cods, his phallus embarrassingly stiff and erect. His face had never been as close to his own groin as it was now and he was red with shame over his erection. Then the Mascular began to slowly tighten the hold and the praetorian was forced to cry out, "I give, I yield, please stop!"

"What? I don't understand, I think you have a bit more flexibility left in you" the Mascular said chuckling and tightened his grip a bit more so that now Testlo's face was so close to his tool that he could have licked it.

"Please SIR! I yield SIR!" he gasped.

Testlo was sucking desperately for breath and felt like he was being drawn and quartered. Without warning he felt a heavy slap to his upturned buttocks and saw that it was the Masculars heavy, leather-like tail that had coiled back to strike him like a whip. The delayed pain from the stroke radiated up through his body.

"This is the punishment boy," the Mascular laughed, "we'll do one for each of the stars in Taurus--twelve last time I had a look at the night sky, and I want you to count!"

"Yes Sir! One Sir!" Testlo bleated, relieved that there was an endpoint.

Again the leathery tail slapped heavily across Testlo's ass as he continued the count. By the time he got to eleven, he was babbling incoherently. The agile tail covered his ass and thighs with welts and bruises and the Mascular thought to himself how even the most seasoned soldier could rarely hold up to a thorough butt thrashing with his bullwhip.

"Now, for this last one, balls in play!" Again the tail reared up, swung, but now in a wider arc as it slapped across the enflamed and bruised buns of the captive man. It then slid sideways with the tip giving a sharp tap to the base of Testlo's exposed balls.

"Unnnnhhhnnnnn!" the man screamed as the Mascular released him. Testlo rolled painfully out onto the floor, clutching his nuts and dry retching.

"This is why you didn't get any wine before," the Mascular laughed, "Now here, drink this." The beast held Testlo like a child and put his chalice to the young man's parched lips, who drank greedily. Then, slightly refreshed, the limp praetorian asked hesitantly, "Is my punishment over?"

"That was just the warm-up! Now get me fresh wine!" Testlo limped painfully over to the large krater and ignoring the ewer, just dipped the chalice to refill it.

Over to one side of the room was a large triclinium and the Mascular had gone to lay on it, taking the chalice and then motioning Testlo to him.

"You did well, but your arrogance and pride not only brought you here, but they impeded your performance."

As the Mascular spoke he pulled Testlo in closer and the two shared the couch. Now he kneaded the younger man's shoulders, speaking in a comforting way and enforcing the relaxation. The braziers bright-blue flames slowly dimmed and transitioned to a warm flickering yellow.

"You have done well in your training, I would have made the same initial move had I been you," the Mascular coached, and then, "Look, your shoulders are strong and I rarely have seen such well developed arms and legs. Your thighs are also quite tight and will recover from the bruises." Testlo chuckled at that. He was feeling better and was getting more and more relaxed as the Mascular massaged him. The wine he had been given calmed the fire from the beating--the huge hands of the beast, rough, yet invigorating, slid along his stretched body, kneading and pressing against his taut midsection, his thighs, his chest. Testlo sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, not noticing that the Mascular's tail had joined the massage. It had slowly crept up along his legs providing a gentle stroking inside his thighs. As the tender tip of the tail brushed against his ball-sack, he could not distinguish it from the firm and comfortable kneading he felt elsewhere. Slowly, an overall feeling of comfort and security washed over him, distracting him and causing his cock to rise in response.

"No, no, please," he murmured, awash in sensations of pleasure that he could not ignore, the contrast to the pain throughout his body intensifying everything. Now the tail was moving slowly, delicately, first around the base of his phallus and as it erected the tail brushed it gently, like a soft finger wetted with spit, stroking up and down the entire length. The Mascular himself was not without sensation as his own tool began to firm and lengthen--it too was now erect and positioned within the crevice of Testlo's backside, sliding up and down with the writhing of the man in his lap.

Again the praetorian protested, "No, no...please, unhhh.." as he writhed in pleasure at the ministrations of the beast, for now the soft damp tip of the tail lips had engulfed the young man's cock, sucking it greedily in and easily taking the entire length. Like a huge snake, the muscles in the tail produced a wave-like massage that sent electric bolts of pleasure into Testlo like he had never experienced before. The Mascular pulled gently at Testlos engorged balls as the young man bounced against his lap, thrusting into the powerful suction of the tail. Suddenly, the wet, sharp tip of the Masculars huge cock, now fully exposed from its sheath, pressed at the tight backdoor of the praetorian and with one quick thrust in time with his bouncing target, went in, deeply.

"Good gods!" Testlo screamed as the Mascular entered him, stretching his virgin bung like never before, the hot, sharp tip of the bull-cock now punching at the plump and firm walnut deep up in the man. The pair now locked in a dynamic embrace as the beast thrusted, snarled and snorted in time with the grunts and gasps from the impaled man. The tail sucked as huge beefy hands kneaded the firm musculature of the man-chest, pinching the erect nipples in synchrony with the motions of the cocks at play. Then, a short, almost imperceptible pause heralded the explosive climax of both man and beast.

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Testlo was running, running from the Mascular, around and around the circular disk of the throne room floor, the hot breath and spittle of the beast hitting his back, the loud clacking of hooves echoing in the chamber. His oddly longer and fully erect phallus flapping in front of him as he sprinted ahead of the beast...

"Time to wake up, praetorian," he heard distantly as he groggily came out of what had to have been a dream. He looked up to see Crates, the guards physician, staring at him kindly. Testlo was laid out naked on one of the examining tables of what he recognized as the infirmary. A quick glance at the wall showed his harness, with battle daggers in place, hanging on a peg. He ached all over.

"Not many survive the Mascular," Crates commented as he applied an ointment at various spots on his patients body.

"I feel like I have been beaten with a sack of rocks," Testlo hissed through clenched teeth.

"Indeed! If it is any consolation, you are off-duty until next moon. Oh, and after you recuperate the queen ordered that you return to her...something about 'more punishment'."

The End