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The sun was high and shinning down mercilessly upon the barren and rocky terrain. Apollo showed no kindness during that summer, shining his light upon the land with intensity upon the rocky terrain on the outskirts of Nemea.

This was the kind of merciless summer day that would make many of the citizens of Nemea would prefer to search for refuge inside their homes, where they could have some servant to fan them or even a tub of water in which to immerse themselves to alleviate the scorching heat. In the cases where searching refuge inside of a building would be impossible, then they would search for shelter in any shadow that they could find, where they would stand, sit, or even lay on the ground beneath the shadow, and try to enjoy the sweet breeze that Helios would be so kind as to offer in this day.

Everyone seemed to choose this day for slack. Bakers would be away from their ovens. Sculptors would drop the hammers and chisels. Hunters would decide to be kind to the game on the forest nearby the city and not touch their bows and arrows.

Everyone seemed to have decided that the best thing to do in such a hot day was to rest.

Still, in the outskirts of Nemea, where this narrative began, there was one soul that was not allow rest.

The tall and handsome man had chiseled muscles over his body, and a bearded face that many would describe as the very definition of manliness. He was a towering figure, with short black navy hair, the same coloration of the beard that covered all of the underside of his face, save for his mouth. The man wore a lonic chiton, which had been unwoven from around his shoulders and was now tie only around his waist by his rope belt, leaving his naked chest exposed to the unforgiving sun. Sweat ran over his tanned skin of the color of bronze, running down his body that any sculptor in Greece would be honor to replicate in a sculpture. His muscles rippled with each movement of his body, as his feet stepped surely and securely, the sandals he wore on his feet protecting them from the worse of the touch of the rocks heated up by the sun.

This prime example of a man walked across the land, his brown eyes focused ahead, as he was going forward into that barren land in search for his goal. The sun showed no clemency to him, just as it did not to any of his peer men. However, he pressed on, moving in direction to his goal.

Heracles could not allow himself to stop now.

Heracles was a name known around certain parts of Greece. It was the name of a man who some claimed to be a Demigod, son of the mighty Zeus with the beautiful Alcmene. He was famous for his amazing strength, such which he was said to have strangled two serpents to death when just a newborn. Heracles certainly seemed divine in many aspects, from the amazing strength to his body that was perfect in a way that should be not possible for a mortal. He was also famous for his amazing bravery, and for acts of heroism like having been part of the Odyssey along with the Argonauts. Truly, a man worth of being call “the son of Zeus”.

However, the life of this hero was not easy.

As the fruit of the unfaithfulness of Zeus, Heracles was the target of the hatred from Hera, Zeus’ wife. In fact, Hera was the responsible for the same serpents that Heracles strangled, as they were the first of her actions against him. Over the years, Hera made many plots against the illegitimate son of her husband, but none of them had ever managed to take Heracles life, once it seemed that he enjoyed of the protection of her husband.

However, in a recent event, Hera had truly managed to hit the hero hard.

It had been in a morning when Heracles woke up taken by fury like no other he had ever felt. Blind and delirious fury that led him to turn on his own wife and children. Fury that led him to use his amazing strength against his own loved ones, killing them one by one.

Only by the end of his fury, Heracles could hear laughter. It was Hera.

She had been the responsible for Heracles rage, the one that led him to murder his own family.

Upon coming to his senses, and seeing what he had done, Heracles wept for his own sin.

In search for atonement, he went for the Oracle, who told him to go to the kingdom of Tyrins, to serve the king Erystheus for ten years, and by doing so, he would “find the destiny reserved for him”. Heracles, despite his hatred for Erystheus, did as the Oracle said, and put himself under the service of his archenemy, who was delighted for having Heracles under his command.

The king then decided that, for his time of service, Heracles would have to perform a number of labors, each one deadly and impossible on its own right. This would be the punishment of Heracles for the murder of his wife and children. A challenge worthy of the son of Zeus.

This was the reason why Heracles was walking in that rocky terrain under the merciless glare of the sun. He was in there to fulfill the first of his many labors: to kill the Nemean Lion.

The Nemean Lion was a terrible beast that lived in the outskirts of the land of Nemea. A terrible beast that devoured the young men of the village, said to be invincible, as no kind of weapon was capable of piercing through its skin. They said that killing the beast was impossible, a suicidal mission from which no one could return.

To Erystheus, it was the perfect challenge to be Heracles’ first labor.

Heracles walked under the merciless sun, shining down on him during this terrible summer that was hitting the land of Nemea. Sweat ran down his forehead and accumulated on his brows, threatening to fall into his eyes and blind him. Sweat also ran the rest of his body, making it glisten under the sun that beat down on him, even as it ran down on his legs and accumulated on the soles of it, soaking his sandals.

Even the son of Zeus thought this heat to be something terrible to face. However, Heracles knew that this heat was nothing compared to the challenge that awaited for him. The cave where the Nemean Lion lived, according to the locals with which Heracles spoke, was just ahead of him, hidden among the rocks of a rocky cliff.

In these caves, was the terrible beast that Heracles was sent to kill as the first of his many labors.

He knew that the claws and fangs of the beast would prove something much more dangerous to him than the heat possibly could. He knew that failing meant ending up as another one of the many victims of the Lion, being reduce to nothing more than meat for the stomach of the beast.

Knowing this, Heracles pressed on. The mighty warrior took the sun beating down on his sculptural body, knowing that death awaited for him if he was not strong enough to vanquish his first challenge. If he could not achieve victory of the terrible creature that plagued this land.

Step by step, Heracles walked forward. Step by step, he pressed forward under the inclement sun, until he saw himself in the place that was described to him. It looked like a canyon, with the rocky walls of the mountain forming a depression that, at the very least, provided some form of shadow that blocked the sun. However, the heat persisted, and so did the sweat that nearly drenched Heracles’ body.

Heracles eyes scanned around, and he was able to sight the cave of the monster. Seemingly carved into the stone, nearly hidden among the rocks that formed the canyon, still, as visible as it would be if it was the mouth of the creature that resided within it. The spiked rocks on the entrance certainly helped creature the illusion that the cave was the mouth of a gigantic beast.

Suddenly, before Heracles could move forward, a loud sound came from inside of the cave and resounded all around the canyon.

It was a roar.

The roar of an inhuman beast.

The roar of a lion.

It was the Nemean Lion. It knew that someone had trespassed on its territory.

It knew that Heracles was in there.

Taking a deep breath, the son of Zeus now knew that the moment had come. The moment when he would clash with the terrible monster.

Reaching out for his waist, Heracles undid the rope around his waist, and let his clothing fall to the ground. He didn’t wore any armor on his way there, for he already heard that the claws and fangs of the Lion were strong enough to tear through steel armors as if they were paper. He did not brought his sword, or arrows, or any other weapon, once he knew that the hide of the Lion was not vulnerable to any of these things.

No. Heracles, who now stood in the canyon only on his sandals and underwear, was going to fight the lion only with the force of his own muscles.

Now, for many such a plan would seem suicidal. However, Heracles had a plan to face the monster. The beast might have an impenetrable hide; however, it did not meant that this beast would be impervious to everything. It still needed to breathe, like any living creature, and if its throat was somehow blocked, then it would suffocate to death.

Heracles plan was to strangle the Lion until it died. He had enough wrestling experience to manage something like that, and his divine strength, inherited from his father, would ensure that he would be able to do something like that. Then, once the lion was dead, Heracles would use its own claws to skin the beast. Yes, because, if the claws were strong enough to rend steel armors, then they should be strong enough to slice through the hide of the lion, which no blade was able to pierce.

Heracles would bring back the skin of the Lion, using it as proof that he had completed the first of his labors. Perhaps lather he could even use the hide to confection clothes to himself. A clothing made from the hide of an invulnerable beast would certainly make an armor worthy of the son of Zeus.

Heracles stood in there, nearly naked, looking at the entrance of the cave and hearing carefully. He could hear movement. He could hear the grunting of the beast that was inside of the cave. It was coming closer.

It was coming for him.

Standing in action, Heracles was in position. He was ready for the great lion to come out of the cave and lunge at him, and all of his muscles were ready to wrestle with the lion until he could put his arms around its neck and strangle it.

Heracles was ready to fight for his life.

However, he was not ready for what he heard next.

“I have been waiting for you... son of Zeus.”

That was not the roar or growl of a lion. These were words spoken from the mouth of a man. However, the voice didn’t sounded like that of a man. This was a growling, guttural voice that didn’t seemed human. It was as if an animal’s voice was being use to speak the words of a man.

Hearing such a thing coming from the same cave from which the bestial sounds came was something that definitely surprised Heracles. However, it was nothing compared to what came next.

A form emerged from within the Lion’s cave. However, it was not a form that Heracles expected.

The brave hero blinked, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him, as his mind processed the sight that now stood on the rocks above him.

It certainly had a bestial appearance; however, it was clear that the creature was no mere beast. The entity that Heracles was looking at stood upright in two legs, like a man, and its body seemed built for battle and challenge, just as Heracles’ own. Its muscles on the arms and legs, its bulging pectorals and its strong abdomen looking to be those of a warrior and of a sculpture, much like the son of Zeus. However, this creature was no man, for no man had a layer of golden-brown fur covering their entire skin, neither did they had hands armed with sharp claws on their fingers, they didn’t had tails sprouting from above the middle of their buttocks, and they most likely did not had the feral head of a lion. The entity was naked, as there was not a single cloth or decoration on its body, and it stood in there with only the fur serving as its covering which, in turn, meant that the male’s sizable penis and balls were in glorious view. It was a male equipment that could cause envy to many men; and Heracles could not precise the exact size of the package, but even from far he could tell that it certainly rivaled his own (impressive) endowment.

The entity that was somewhere between man and beast stood in there, its muscular, bare and furred body being bathed by the sun that came from above, looking down at hero, who stood in there, looking baffled at the creature that stood before him.

“Heracles, the son of Zeus!” The creature said to the hero, its feral voice resounding into the valley in a manner not too different from how a roar would. “I welcome you to my domain, and the place where you will find your destiny!”

Heracles looked at the creature dumb folded for a few more moments, before he finally recovered control of himself, and was able to talk to this creature.

“Your domain?” The son of Zeus asked. “What do you mean by that? Who or what are you supposed to be? Where is the Nemean Lion that I was told that lived in this canyon? Have you vanquished the creature and took its skin to yourself?”

These were not as much questions as they were demands. After all, Heracles himself was gave a mission of killing the lion and bringing back the pelt as proof. A mission that he intent to complete as part of his atonement.

The creature looked at him, before it let out a laughter. A laughter that actually sounded like a broken roar in the voice of the creature. The creature then looked back at the hero, and said:

“This is my domain, son of Zeus!” The creature spoke, with an imperial tune, which had even more power in its growling, roaring voice. “It is my domain that I claimed for myself long before I had this form I have now! A domain where you have entered in your mission given by the gods to vanquish me! Yes, son of Zeus, you have come here to vanquish me! For I am the Nemean Lion!”

Heracles blinked, looking at the creature that laid on the top of that plateau, his mind processing what was just told to him.

That... creature was the Nemean Lion!?

But, how!?

He was told that the Lion was a feral beast that attacked and devoured the men of Nemea. That creature certainly looked bestial, but it didn’t looked like the massive, four-legged monster that had been described to Heracles on his travel to that place.

Had he been fed wrongful information? Had he been lied to? Was that creature itself lying to him?

Heracles was about to talk back to the creature, demanding it to tell him the truth and say where the lion was. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, his mind processed the words of the creature.

“You... You said that this is your domain since before you had this form!” Heracles said, looking at the bestial lion-headed man who looked down on him. “What did you meant by that!?”

The creature looked down on him, a smirk forming in its feral muzzle.

“I mean that I have not always have this form you see before yourself now, son of Zeus.” The creature said. “Just one week ago, I was a normal lion.” The creature stopped, and chuckled, before continued, “That is, as normal as a lion as magnificent as me can be considered. However, I was changed into the form I currently have.”

Heracles looked at him, and he demanded:

“How?”

“I was visited by the goddess Hera.” The creature said, causing Heracles to flinch at the mention of the goddess who hated him, and caused him to murder his own family. “She appeared in my cave one night, after I returned from another successful hunt. Of course, at the moment, I didn’t realized that she was a goddess, and assumed that she was only a woman who had been foolish enough to wander into my cave, and would pay for her mistake by becoming my meal.”

“However, she revealed herself as no other than Hera. She changed me. Remodeled my body like clay in her hands. She turned my front legs into arms, and my forepaws into hands. She changed my body so I could stand and walk on my hind legs like you humans do. She even changed my throat, to allow me to speak on the same language that you use. As she was finished, she departed, leaving me with my new form.”

As the lion finished explaining, it looked at its own hands. Passing them over its abs, chest, and arms.

“I must confess, at first I thought the changes to be unnerving.” The creature said, as it passed its clawed hands softly over all of its muscular form. “However, after one week living in this form, I must admit that I have grown fond of it. I certainly have found some uses for my new appearance, and I dare to say that I feel grateful for Hera for having changed me into this.”

Heracles looked up at the creature, taking in all that it has said up until now.

That thing before him was actually the Lion?

Well, he didn’t doubt that Hera would do something like that, but to what purpose?

Maybe it was a plan to somehow interfere with his tasks?

Heracles had come to slain a beast, and now he was facing a man who had the aspect of a beast, if that was even the right term to use in a situation like that.

What should he do now?

“Heracles.” The voice of the Lion called the son of Zeus back to the present, and the creature looked at him.

“Hera has left me a warning when she changed me into that form.” It said, looking at the man. “She said that someone would be coming for me. For my pelt. For my life.”

The creature jumped off the plateau. With the grace and skill of a feline, it landed on its feet, in a crouching position before the son of Zeus. Dust flew from the point where its bare feet touched the ground, and the creature soon was straightening its body as it now looked at the son of Zeus, who stood less than four meters from it.

“She told me that you, Heracles, the son of Zeus, would be coming here to slay me, in a mission given to you by the king of Pythia.” The creature said, calmly walking to the man that stood before it. “Yes, you would come to slay me and take my skin king Erystheus as proof of my death. I have been waiting for you ever since.”

Then, the muscles of the creature have tensed, his hands ready for battle as its claws were ready, its lips curling to show its fangs in a snarl. The creature changed its footing to enter in what Heracles immediately recognized as a combat stance.

“I am ready for you, son of Zeus.” The Lion snarled. “After all, if you are here, is because you still have the mission of killing me. This mission must not have changed with my own appearance, ain’t it right?”

Yes. The creature had a point. His mission hadn’t changed. It didn’t matter if the lion was no longer a lion. It was still not a man. It was still a creature that he was supposed to kill. It was still the first of his labors.

A labor that he intended to fulfill.

Looking at the creature, Heracles changed his footing, raising his arms, and acquiring a stance nearly identical to the one that the creature now had.

“Yes, foul beast.” The son of Zeus said. Now was not the time to question the mission he had ahead of himself. It was not the moment in wasting precious time thinking on what he should do next. It was not even the time to think on what kind of goal Hera could have in mind when changing the Lion into a creature that came close to a man. Now it was time to go into combat and fulfill his mission, just as he had done many times. Any thinking could come later. “I am Heracles, the son of Zeus, and today, with the gods as my witnesses, I shall vanquish you!”

The Lion scoffed, baring his fangs at the hero. “We shall see!”

With this, both fighters charged at each other.

Blows were exchanged, with fists flying and making contact with their target. The Lion returned the punches of Heracles with punches of his own. Each punch of Heracles was capable of defeating ten regular men, however, the beast was proving to be stronger than any man, as each blow that Heracles delivered to it seemed not to make much more damage than a normal punch would do on a mundane human. This beast that stood before him was proving to be as might as Heracles himself! Its punches were proof of it, as each blow that connected with Heracles exploded with the power of a thunder, causing the son of Zeus to step back.

The battle continued, with blows being exchange, punches flew as the two foes danced around each other. Surprisingly, the Lion didn’t tried to claw or bite at Heracles, like the son of Zeus was expecting. The son of Zeus had planned to put his arms around the arm of the beast as soon as it tried to bite him, however, the Lion was instead fighting like a man. However, even that would not deter Heracles, who was a skilled wrestler and warrior. Soon, he saw his chance, and he seized it.

Heracles achieved his goal, locking his arms around the neck of the beast, and starting to squeeze. Heracles killed other beasts that way, and he knew that he could kill the lion as well, by suffocating it to death; and the beast would be, like all others, unable to do anything to stop him.

However, all of the previous beasts were unable to free themselves from Heracles because they were unable to cause him to let go. They were unable to counter his choke for they could not reach for his arms, for none of them had arms and hands of their own.

The Lion had.

As the bestial man grabbed Heracles’ arms, its fingers locking around his limbs and its claws digging into his skin, the son of Zeus saw the motive why Hera would have changed the lion into that form. A form that was capable of fighting Heracles in equal terms. A form greater than that of a mere beast. A form that was able to fight Heracles on ways that a beast would not be able to.

A form that could defeat him.

As the lion roared, forcing Heracles to let go and tossing him far from itself, that was when the tides of that combat started to change. And they were changing in favor of the lion, much to Heracles’ misfortune.

The next minutes were a blur of violence, pain and blows to the son of Zeus. The furry fists of the lion connected with his jaw, with his chest, with his stomach. Each blow powerful enough to kill a regular man. With each given blow, his skin bruised and his muscles weakened, making the next blow even more painful to Heracles.

It all came in a speed that very well matched the animalistic way that a lion would maul its prey. It seemed that the Lion had kept the savagery of his original bestial form, and now combined it with the skill of his demi-human form to a devastating effect.

It was just as if the Lion was attacking a poor defenseless lamb. And Heracles was taking the role of the lamb.

A broken lip. A bloody nose. A swollen eye. Blackened bruises all over his skin, with some places where the blows had been so violent that they caused his skin to break. Heracles certainly didn’t looked like a hero worth of being sung on legends on that moment.

The blows had stopped. The Lion seemed like he had decided to take a break from pummeling the wanna-be hero, and now looked at him, panting.

Heracles looked back at the Lion, his vision compromised due to the swollen eye. He tried to raise his arms and get back into fighting stance, but it hurt too much. He tried to at least change his footing, to have a better stance in the case the lion started another onslaught, but that proved to be a mistake, for in that moment, the pain and tiredness of the ruthless beating that he had received caused the son of Zeus to go down to his knees.

Heracles head was spinning, he blinked as he tried to force his body to stand back up, but he could not. Meanwhile, the Lion approached him with slow steps. Its imposing figure towered over the kneeling man, his shadow covering the form of the son of Zeus, who looked up at him.

At that moment, Zeus really felt like a lamb before the beast.

Then, the Lion stroke once more. However, instead of fists or claws, the Lion reached out its hands and put them around Heracles head.

In an instant, Heracles felt an immense pressure around his skull, as the creature started to squeeze.

Heracles wailed, as his hands shot up and grabbed the wrists of the lion, holding on to them as he tried to squeeze and pull, to free his head from the hands of the creature. However, the beating that he just received from the Lion had greatly weakened the son of Zeus. He didn’t had enough strength to pry the hands off his head, and his efforts seemed like those of a small child against an adult.

The Lion added pressure, continuing to squeeze the head of the son of Zeus, as if it was trying to crush his skull with its bare hands, and it seemed that it could succeed.

Heracles wailed as he felt his head being squeeze. Pressure pooled on his skull as the creature applied more and more strength to its grip. If things kept as they stood, in no time Heracles’ head would be crush like a ripe melon under the hands of the Lion.

Heracles was no weakling, by any means. He was no stranger to the dangers that came from leading the kind of life that one could lead as a hero and as a demigod. However, most of all, Heracles was no coward.

However, even Heracles could not avoid the fear.

The feeling of fear and dread that came when someone was in a position as despairing as his own.

The fear of what was about to happen, and of what would come next.

The fear of dying.

This was a fear that every man, rich or poor, feeble or might, peasant or king, mundane or demigod, felt when they were looking death in the eyes. In Heracles case, this was somehow literal, and the eyes of death were very similar to those of a lion, staring back at him and telling him that his life now belonged to it.

Heracles was afraid.

He could not win. He could not overcome this challenge. He knew that.

Heracles was as proud as a warrior, hero and son of the leader of Olympus could be. He was a man of honor, who had compromised himself to fulfill the tasks given his cousin to atone himself for the murder of his own family. He was a man of his word, who swore he would complete any and all tasks given to him, and not allow himself to fail a single one of them.

However, right now, Heracles was afraid of dying. This fear was enough for his pride, his honor, even his principles, be forgotten.

“P-please...” Heracles whimpered, looking at the creature that literally hold his life in it’s’ hands. “No more...”

“Hum?” The Lion said, looking at the man, “What was that? Did you speak something, son of Zeus?”

“P-please... have mercy on me.” Heracles said; his voice was just barely above a pained whimper. The Lion seemed displeased, as he squeezed harder at the trapped head of the hero.

“What was that?” The Lion said, “I still cannot properly hear you. If you want to be heard, son of Zeus, you will have to speak loud enough for me to understand your words, otherwise, I’ll just assume that you are challenging me.”

Heracles could hear the mockery on the voice of the creature. He knew that it was enjoy it. He knew that it wanted to humiliate him. He knew what it most likely wanted. It wanted Heracles to cry out and beg for his life, loud enough for the gods to hear.

Normally, Heracles would never beg for anyone or anything. However, at that moment, in the hands of the beast, and with his life on the line, Heracles felt the last of his pride slipping away from him, as the urge to survive was stronger.

His hands, still shaking, let go of the creature’s wrists, and instead, Heracles raised them in a clear sign of defeat and plead, as he cried out.

“I surrender!” The once proud son of Zeus said, “Please, no more! Please, spare me! Please, I don’t want to die! Please, let me live, fierce Lion! Please, I beg you! Spare me!”

His loud words echoed into the canyon for a few moments, and then, the vice-like grip on his head started to loosen. Now, it was no longer as if the Lion was trying to crush his head, but more like he was gently holding it, nearly in the way a mother would cup her little one’s head. In this moment, Heracles dared to open his eyes again, and he saw that the Lion was looking at him and showing its teeth again. However, this time it was not as a threatening snarl, but more like a... cruel grin.

The lion let go of the head of the hero wannabe, and Heracles fell to the ground. He stood in there, down on his hands and knees, breathing deep breaths. Each one long and deliberate, as if he wanted not only to recover from the ordeal and calm his panicked heart, but also convince to himself that he was, indeed, still alive.

At this moment, Heracles felt a weight land in between his shoulders. The son of Zeus was forced face-first on the rocky ground. The Lion stood with a foot planted firmly on the back of the son of Zeus, keeping him down, and then, it rose its’ arms and let out a long, powerful roar, which could be heard for miles away.

This was a victory roar. The roar of a lion who had conquered a prey. Of a male who had conquered an invading male and defeated him. This was the roar of a champion.

The roar echoed across the canyon, bouncing back and forth into the rocks, and coming back to the Lion and his conquered foe.

Heracles remained down. He didn’t moved. He didn’t protested. He didn’t even made any sound or tried to free himself from the oppressive weight of the Lion’s feet on his back. He didn’t wanted to do anything to upset the creature. Not after it had just spared his life after he shamefully begged for mercy. It might change its’ mind and kill him.

The weight that was on his back remained for a while, before it vanished, as the creature removed its’ foot from between Heracles’ shoulders.

Heracles breathed again, and he slowly, shakenly, started to get up, using his arms to lift himself from the ground. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could and never come back.

He had failed. Failed on the very first of his labors, on the most shameful way possible. No. more than failed, he had gave up. Instead of either emerging victorious with the Lion’s pelt or remain in there as another corpse, he would be leaving that place with his head down in shame, running like a coward after having given up like a coward. His name and honor tainted forever. However, Heracles could worry about that later, after he had left that place and gone as far from the Lion as possible.

However, Heracles barely managed to get properly on his hands and knees, when he felt the strong hand of the Lion once more on his head. This time, it was clutching hard at his dark curly hair.

Heracles cried out as the Lion pulled his hair, his hands instinctively going to hold the arm that was pulling on his hair. However, he managed to do nothing to stop it, as we was still too weak from the fight. He could not fight back or resist, as the Lion started to literally drag him by the hair.

“W-what are you doing!?” Heracles cried out, as the Lion dragged him. However, the Lion didn’t answered, and it continued to take the defeated hero across the rocky ground, and then, it started to climb into the rocks, all the while dragging the poor defeated demigod up by the hairs.

Heracles cried out in pain, as the creature dragged him. However, Heracles soon realized that it was not taking him out of the canyon and of its’ territory.

It was taking him to its cave.

There was only one reason why animals would take a defeated creature to their lair: to eat them.

“No!” Heracles cried out. “No, please! Let me go! I’ll leave and never come back!”

“Silence!” The Lion snarled back, as it dragged the hero up. Not bothering with his struggles, as it continued to forcefully pull him up as it climbed. Heracles squirmed, struggled, even pleaded to be release, promising never to return and even to sing of how mighty the creature was to whoever wanted to hear him. However, none of that deterred the Lion, who continued to drag the hero closer and closer to its cave.

Eventually, Heracles gave up. Not like he had done minutes ago. He just... gave up.

He stopped pleading and struggling. His arms let go of the arm of the hand that was holding his hair. His body went limp, as he simply accepted the truth.

He was going to die. The hope of being able to leave that place alive was just a fleeting thing given to him by the creature, who made him beg for his life only so it could humiliate him further before ending his life. Well, Heracles somehow regretted having begged for his life now. If he knew that he was going to die anyway, he would at least have gone down with his pride intact, instead of begging like a poor little virgin.

Well, it was too late for that now. He already humiliated himself, and now he was going to die knowing that he was a coward.

What a glorious end for the adventures of Heracles.

The Lion finally arrived at its cave, still dragging the limp Heracles by the hair inside. Even the pain of having his hair pulled was dull to Heracles, as his mind felt as numb as his body, as the beast dragged him inside of the cave, where his final fate waited for him.

Once they were deep within the beast’s lair, the Lion lifted him, forcing him on his feet.

“Stay still.” The Lion growled at him, and Heracles obeyed, seeing no point in trying to fight. The Lion looked at him, almost as if he was evaluating his conquered enemy. Probably deciding which part of Heracles he was going to eat first, was what the hero thought. The Lion certainly licked his lips and looked at Heracles with what seemed to be hunger.

Soon, a clawed hand approached the hero. Heracles was ready to feel another rough grabbing or the pain of the claws piercing his skin. However, what he felt as a gentle touch of the hand on his face. Was the Lion... caressing him?

The hand moved across his jaw to down his neck, and then down his pectorals, and passed down to his stomach and defined, but bruised, abs.

Heracles flinched a little as it came closer to his waistline. That was when the hand grabbed a hold of his loincloth, and started pulling. With a mighty pull, the loincloth was ripped from Heracles waist and tossed aside like garbage.

Now, Heracles was completely nude as he kneeled in front of the beast.

The beast then looked at Heracles once more, and its hand once more found its way to the hero’s body, this time grabbing and cupping his balls and limp penis. Heracles flinched at the touch, but didn’t tried to pull away or to escape from the touches of the Lion.

“Not bad.” The Lion said, as he inspected Heracles’ package. “Definitely decent. Not as big as mine, though.” With this, the beast let go of Heracles’ package without any care, as if it was something unimportant. Heracles couldn’t help but blush.

Indeed, now that he was looking up close, standing in there before the Lion, being able to look down and see both of their endowments very close to each other. Heracles could notice that the Lion was more well-endowed than himself. The creature’s penis was limp, but Heracles could already tell that it was bigger than his own. The balls also were bigger.

It seemed that the beast still wanted to humiliate the son of Zeus before eating him. Rubbing salt into the wound to draw out more suffering from the condemned man. Heracles just hoped that it would end soon and that his soul would be allow to go to the Underworld and rest after the beast was done.

However, the Lion, instead of starting to eat him, turned around and walked to somewhere inside of the cave.

Just what was that monster doing? Did it wanted to torment Heracles even more? To keep him under stress by making him wonder when his last moment would come? That creature was proving to be quite the sadist. This made Heracles grow more worried to how the Lion would kill him when it decided that it was done humiliating him. The stories of men still being alive as the beast devoured them very clear on the hero’s mind; and making Heracles let out a very small, very undignified whimper.

Soon, the Lion was coming back, and it was holding something on its hand.

“Do not move.” The beast commanded, and Heracles obeyed. Soon, the Lion approached him with the thing that he had on his hand. Then, Heracles felt something solid and cold envelop his neck, and he heard a click, like something being lock in place.

Blinking, Heracles took his hand to his neck as the beast stepped back. His hands touched something that was around his neck. Something made of metal.

The Lion had put a collar on him.

“W-what?” Heracles said, surprised and confused, looking at the Lion. “W-what is this?”

“The symbol of your new position.” The Lion said, looking at the son of Zeus, who looked back at it, still confused. The Lion explained:

“I have defeated and conquered you in combat, son of Zeus.” The beast said, looking at Heracles. “As such, you are now my property, my trophy. You now belong to me. You are now my slave.”

Heracles looked at the beast, his mind taking a moment to process what was being said to him.

Its’... slave?

Was the creature serious?

So, instead of being devoured by the creature he was going to be serving it? Had Heracles came all the way in there only to pass from Erystheus command to that mutated beast?

That was the fate that the gods had reserved for him?

In that moment, something inside of Heracles moved. Some part of him seemed to refuse this. The part of him that was still a proud and noble hero didn’t felt like accepting this fate and submitting to that vile creature. This part of him wanted to fight back.

However, this fighting spirit that was within him seemed to be unable to react. As if it was somehow being caged. As if it was being pushed back into the back of his heart.

Did that metal collar around his neck suddenly got warmer?

“Now, my slave.” The Lion said, catching Heracles’ attention. “Kneel before your lord and master.”

Heracles obeyed. Almost mechanically, he kneeled before the creature. It came so naturally that Heracles didn’t realized that he was obeying until he realized that he now had the perfect view of the Lion’s endowment. It looked even bigger up close. Wait, was it closer? Yes, it was. The Lion had stepped forward as Heracles kneeled, and now his member was just a few inches away from the son of Zeus’ face.

Heracles looked up, and he saw the Lion looking at him, nearly expectantly.

“So, what are you waiting for, slave?” The Lion said, looking down as the kneeling hero. “Start servicing your master.”

That was a command, Heracles knew that much. However, the Lion didn’t specified how Heracles was supposed to serve him. This made the son of Zeus confuse, as he just looked up at the Lion, when a thought crossed his mind.

No. That could not be it. The beast could not really mean...

However, as Heracles analyzed his position, soon it became clear to him. The fact that he was on his knees, that they were both naked, and that the Lion was standing so close to him. In that moment, the will of the Lion was becoming clear to the kneeling man, as well as what kind of “service” he was demanding from Heracles.

Heracles was surprised, to say the very least.

Of course, he was no strange to having relations with other men. He had his fair share of lovers in his life of both sexes, and he could actually consider himself experienced in the ways of male loving. However, he never was in this position before. He had always been the one serviced by other men, never the one servicing. Also, there was the fact that this one to whom he was supposed to service was not a man, but some kind of monstrous beast, which was practically the same as loving an animal, something that would raise more than a few eyebrows among society.

He was Heracles. He didn’t served men, and he most certainly didn’t served animals.

Heracles should refuse this kind of thing in that very same instant, but he didn’t.

Actually, Heracles started to obey.

He looked down from the Lion’s face, and now his gaze was on the penis that stood before him. Nervously, Heracles reached out with his hands, and took a grip on the penis. It felt warm, furry and heavy in his fingers. Slowly, Heracles leaned forward, as he used his fingers to peer the furry foreskin of the member back, revealing the pinkish flesh of the member. Heracles could smell the musk of the Lion, and it was strong, virile. It was a smell of man, of male, a smell that came from the sweat that the creature had worked as it pummeled Heracles into defeat, and that the son of Zeus only now took notice of. It was a strong smell that made his head fell a little light.

Leaning forward, Heracles opened his mouth, and poked his tongue out. In the second that his tongue made contact with the penis, Heracles tasted the Lion. It was a strong taste. Taste of pure virility and masculinity like nothing that Heracles ever tasted before. Soon, the son of Zeus was dragging his tongue over the head of the member. Licking over it, over its piss-slit, and swirling it over the member, even going as far as to poke under the foreskin, what caused Heracles to gag as he tasted something else in there.

Something foul.

“Oh, I should warn you that I never really washed my member properly.” The lion said, “I mean, I have licked myself clean for years, but I never could properly lick into my member, and I haven’t even licked myself ever since turning into this form.” The Lion looked down at the hero, a smirk on his muzzle, “Well, guess that I don’t need to anymore, now that I have a slave to clean it for me with his tongue.”

Any man would have pulled away in disgust. They would have spat out the foul taste. They would have thrown up from revulsion. They would curse at the Lion for such humiliation. However, Heracles did none of those things. Instead, he continued to do what he was doing. He continued to lick the member, cleaning it from the mix of substances and smells that formed a disgusting sludge that now he wiped clean from the Lion’s penis with his own tongue.

It was revolting and demeaning, but Heracles continued to do that.

Because that was what the Lion wanted.

After agonizing minutes, Heracles had thoroughly cleaned the penis of the Lion. The foulness was gone, all of that eaten away by the once proud hero. The Lion seemed satisfied with this.

“Well done, son of Zeus.” He spoke, now speaking it with what seemed to be sarcasm, as if he was mocking the hero. “Now, continue to service me.”

Heracles obeyed in the same instant. He went back into licking the head of the member, which was hardening consistently into his hands. As he licked, he also rubbed and fondled into the growing penis with his hands, giving a full service to the Lion, who purred under his ministrations.

Soon, the member was in full hardness, and Heracles could witness the full glory of the Lion’s maleness. It was even bigger now that it was hard, and Heracles knew instantly that it was bigger than his own. Seeing the full size of that member made Heracles feel humble. Seeing how big and mighty it was caused the kneeling hero to feel less of a man. As if that beast was more of a man than himself.

“That’s it. Very good, slave.” The Lion said, placing his hand on the head of the man and scratching it, in a manner not too different on how Heracles himself would have scratched a dog between the ears. "You are doing a good job yourself, but I want more. Service me with your mouth, and if I feel any teeth, you will regret it.” The Lion growled the last part threatening, as if he wanted to prevent the hero from having any idea of rebelling in a moment like that. However, rebelling was the last thing that was on Heracles mind now, as he was only focusing on servicing the Lion to the best of his capacities, just like he was going to do now, as he knew exactly what the Lion wanted.

Looking back at the penis that now stood hard on his hands. Heracles hesitated, knowing that doing this now would mean giving up what was left of his masculinity and pride as man. To denigrate himself to a mere pleaser for this beast. However, the son of Zeus soon saw himself holding the penis in his hands in a way that it was point to his face, and opening his mouth, before slowly approaching the thing and enveloping it with his mouth.

Heracles never sucked a penis in his life, even though he had his penis sucked many times already in the past. He imagined that he should do as he saw others doing to his own member many times in the past, he hoped it would be enough to please the Lion.

Heracles started sucking gently, as if he was trying to suck honey from a honeycomb, and slowly, he moved his head back and forth into the member, slowly, gently. As he did, he moved his tongue over the underside of the member, in an occasion wrapping it around it as he sucked.

Heracles was still mostly unsure of what he was doing, but he assumed that the purring that was coming from the Lion was a sign that he was doing a decent job.

“Yes, that’s it, my slave.” The Lion said, one hand caressing the hair of the son of Zeus. “Just like that. My, my, what a skilled mouth you have.”

Heracles blushed. He didn’t knew why, but he was blushing, as if the words of the Lion were a compliment to his skills. Heracles continued to work, slowly pushing his head back and forth, as he sucked and licked at the cock inside of his mouth. He was being slow and taking little of the massive member. However, as minutes passed, Heracles saw himself taking more of the member, as well as speeding up his movements into it. Of course, that could be partially attribute to the fact that the Lion was holding his head and forcing him to go down deeper and faster on its penis.

“That’s it.” The Lion growled, fangs baring as he panted and made the defeated hero work harder on his member. “That’s it. Use your tongue some more. Suck harder. Yes, just like that. Good slave. Gooooood slave.”

Heracles gagged a little bit at some point, as the Lion started to thrust back to meet with Heracles’ half-forced movements. The penis of the creature was moving in and out of his mouth with considerable speed, and it was going so deep that the tip of the member was almost poking on the back of his throat, causing Heracles’ gag-reflex to kick in, and causing him to nearly choke and vomit a few times. However, Heracles knew that stopping to choke or vomit would probably upset the Lion, so the hero was doing his best to relax his throat. Still, slime from his throat was still coming up as an answer to penis going so far into his mouth, it pooled on his mouth, mixing with the saliva, before it leaked from his lips and down his chin.

“That’s it. Yes, that’s it!” The Lion growled, and then, he roughly grabbed the hair of the demigod. “Yes!”

This was all the warning Heracles had, before the Lion made a single forceful thrust, sending his entire member all the way into Heracles’ mouth.

The demigod’s eyes widened as this happened. His nose pressed hard on the pubic fur of the Lion’s crotch, and he could feel its testes against his chin. However, all of that pale in comparison of the feeling of the member being force down his throat.

Heracles had faced combats. He had faced beasts. He had gone into countless challenges before being assign the tasks by Erystheus. However, none of that could prepare him for the experience of having a penis forced down his throat. His eyes watered and his nostrils flared. It took all of Heracles’ will power not to vomit then and there, and he only managed to avoid it because the thought of the Lion’s subsequent anger utterly terrified him.

He couldn’t pull back, of the Lion had a vice-like grip on his hair, and he dared not to try to bite, for he was scared of the consequences. So, Heracles’ did the only thing that he could think of: he swallowed around the member. This somehow alleviated the feeling that he had, and reduced his urge to vomit to a more manageable level. However, it didn’t changed the fact that this phallus was now literally plunged into his throat.

And it was not letting him breathe.

At first, it were only the occasional convulsion of his throat to the invasion. But soon, it was becoming also the reflex of trying to breathe but being unable to. Heracles once more tried to pull away, only for the grip of the Lion on his hair to keep him right where he was. In that moment, Heracles started to panic. He tried to pull, but this only led the Lion to tighten his grip on his hair. He tried to take a hold of the thighs of the Lion and to pull himself free, but this caused the Lion to growl at him as he continued to hold him in place.

His lungs felt like they were tightening. Dots were starting to dance in front of his eyes. Heracles was starting to think that he escaped from dying by being maul to die choking in a phallus.

Trying to free himself was not working, and it felt like his time was running short. Giving up, Heracles gently tapped on the thighs of the Lion, which finally caused the beast to look down on him. It saw Heracles looking up at it with pleading eyes.

After looking at him for a few moments, the beast seemed to understand what its slave wanted. The grip loosened, and Heracles was finally allow to pull back.

Heracles coughed as the phallus left his throat, although it was still on his mouth. Breath came out through his nose, as air was forcefully eject through his now unobstructed throat. Heracles was also pulling back, as he needed to breathe properly. However, he stopped when the penis was nearly out of his mouth.

Heracles continued to cough, and even tried to pull out completely, but the Lion held him by the hair, keeping him just where he was. The beast’s penis was still in his mouth, although only the tip was past his lips. This was enough to allow Heracles to breathe, even though he was force to breathe through his nose.

Heracles dared to look up at the Lion, who looked back at him with a form of indifferent interest. Then, the beast smirked at him. This was the only warning Heracles had before the massive member was once more shove all the way to his mouth and into his throat.

Once more, Heracles nearly vomited with the sudden intrusion to his throat, causing his larynx to spasm around the invading body, before Heracles could alleviate the pressure by swallowing around it. The Lion held him in there for a few seconds, before pulling his head back until only the tip was on Heracles’ mouth, allowing the defeated hero to breathe once more. Before the Lion did it again. And again. And again.

In and out. In and out. This process repeated. All the way in, nearly all the way out, only to back all the way in. Each time it poked hard on the back of Heracles’ throat, forcing its way down his throat so deep that Heracles had the feeling that it could reach all the way to his esophagus. Each time, the Lion held him in place for a few seconds, before allowing Heracles a few more seconds to breathe, and repeating the process.

They kept like that for a few minutes, before the Lion started to pick up the pace. The thrusting was getting faster. Now Heracles was having less time to breathe, although the time where his throat was plunged was also reducing. Also, the Lion was starting to thrust harder, as if he wanted to send his phallus really hard into Heracles’ throat. Luckily, Heracles’ had managed to acquire enough control over his throat that he could keep it relaxed, though each thrust of the Lion still made his throat convulse and his eyes water, so much that tears were running down his cheeks as the Lion continued to abuse him.

Heracles was still holding into the thighs of the Lion, as a man at the sea would hold to a piece of the boat. However, he was not trying to fight the Lion. Instead, it was more as if he was holding on its thighs only have some semblance of leverage as he allowed the beast to use his mouth and throat as it saw fit. Even as the thrusting was becoming so fast that Heracles only had time to catch the slightest breath through his nose between the thrusts of the Lion, the beast’s balls slapping against his chin as he was used by the creature.

“Yes...” The Lion growled, as he thrust his member faster and harder on Heracles’ mouth. One of his hands held firmly the hair of the demigod it was using, while the other one rested on its own waist. It continued to breed hard the mouth of that man, just like it would have breed the cunt of a lioness in heat back when it was still a full lion (and how it perhaps still could do, if any lioness appeared in his territory).

Heracles’ eyes were rolling so much that they were almost on the back of his skull. His hands were soon slipping from the thighs of the Lion, hanging between his own legs as he allowed the beast to do as it pleased. Heracles was barely even thinking now, as his mind was too busy making sure to breathe on the right moment when the Lion was pulling its phallus out of his throat, before it plunged it back at full force.

“Yes... that’s it.” The Lion growled, its voice growing in urgency, as well as its thrusting. It was close now. It knew very well the feeling from when the release was approaching. Heracles could have noticed it too, if he still had enough self-awareness to notice how erratic the thrusting of the beast had become. However, Heracles was able to notice when the beast once more plunged its cock deep into his throat, and let out a loud roar as it came.

Heracles’ eyes widened, as he felt the phallus in his mouth convulse and spasm, and he could feel it. The life seed coming out of the beast’s penis right down his throat and directly to his esophagus. Heracles became aware of himself, as he knew that the Lion was depositing his seed into his stomach, and he could do nothing to stop it. Curiously, Heracles didn’t actually wanted to do anything to stop it.

After a few more moments, the phallus started softening, and then, the Lion pulled it out. It came out soft, coated in seed, saliva and throat slime. Heracles could finally take the big breaths that his body had been requiring, finally being able to cough properly as his throat felt sore, almost bruised, from the severe punishment that it had just received.

Meanwhile, the Lion clearly showed no sympathy for Heracles, as it was clear by the way that it looked down at the son of Zeus as an aristocrat would look at a cheap whore that he had just fucked. No. A better analogy would be to compare it to the way that a king looks at a newly acquired slave. One that he was still testing to see if it was worth the price paid for it.

The lion continued to look at him for a few moments, while Heracles kept his head low, much like a slave would. Then, a smirk formed on the muzzle of the creature.

“Did you enjoyed yourself, slave?” The Lion asked, and Heracles looked up at it, wondering what the creature meant. Then, he looked down, and saw it.

His penis was hard as stone. It stood in there, in all of its glory, throbbing slightly with each beat of Heracles heart.

The hero looked at it in surprise. Why was his penis fully erect? He hadn’t touched himself a single time!

Did... did he became erect only from having his throat fucked by the beast?

“Well, it is good to see that you are coming to enjoy your new position, slave.” The Lion said, causing Heracles to look at it once more. “It certainly be better for you if you learn to enjoy your new life, and all that comes with it.”

Heracles looked at the being before him, and then, this being spun around, and stood with its back turned at Heracles. Or, better saying, with its buttocks turned to Heracles.

“Now, start worshipping me.” The Lion said, and Heracles blinked. It seemed that he was trying to understand what was just request of him.

“W-what?” Heracles mumbled, and The Lion looked over his shoulder at the kneeling hero.

“You are a slave now.” The Lion said to him. “My slave. I am your master. Your owner. Your GOD.” The Lion certainly looked imperious as he... as it said that. “As a slave, you shall learn to worship me, every part of me, like you would worship a god.”

Heracles said nothing, and only looked up at the Lion, who continued to look over his shoulder at him.

“So, now that you are my slave, you shall show me that you can worship me...” The Lion said, slightly sticking up his backside in direction to the kneeling hero. “By kissing my buttocks.”

This was a foul request. It was an absurd request. It was a demining thing that anyone who was not a completely compliant slave would hesitate before following, and that anyone with a little bit of self-respect and pride would flat out refuse, even feel indignant in being requested such a thing.

Heracles should have felt furious for receiving such a request. If Erystheus had tried to demand such a thing from Heracles when he first put himself on his service, the son of Zeus would not have thought twice before grabbing the king’s head in between his strong hands and crushing his skull like a grape, redemption missions and prophecies from the Oracle be damned. The hero would have murdered anyone who dared to make such a request to him.

However, at that moment, Heracles didn’t felt as angry as he would have if the request was made back on the day he put himself in Erystheus’ service. Actually, he didn’t even felt as angry as he would have felt if such a request was done on that same morning. Heracles just listened to the request... no, it was more like an order, then his mind processed it, and then, without even thinking hard about it, Heracles obeyed.

He leaned forward, taking the round buttocks of the Lion on his hands. They felt firm. Even the creature’s buttocks seemed to be pure muscle underneath a thin layer of fat that made them look round. As Heracles had his hands in then, he continued to lean forward, approaching the left cheek. He closed his eyes, and puckered his lips.

They made contact with the flesh of the cheek, covered in a thin layer of fur.

*Stch*

Heracles planted the kiss in that cheek, pulling back and then opening his eyes.

“Good.” The Lion said, sounding satisfied. “Now, the other cheek.”

Once more, Heracles obeyed, and he planted a kiss on the right cheek. Like with the previous one, he didn’t hesitated or thought hard on it. He just did as his Master... as the Lion had ordered him.

“Keep going.” The Lion commanded, “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Heracles didn’t questioned or voiced any disagreement. He didn’t felt like questioning or disagreeing. He simply did what was request of him, more readily than he would ever have taken any of Erystheus’ commands.

*smek*

*kch*

*chts*

He kept doing it. He kept kissing the Lion’s buttocks like a slave. Left. Right. Left again. Right again. On and on, planting kisses on the buttocks of the creature that now owned him... owned him? Yes, it seemed that this was right. The creature had defeated him in battle, so now he belonged to it... Or, would it be to him?

“Enough.” The Lion said, and Heracles stopped midway to kiss the right cheek again. The hero looked up at the Lion, who was not looking back at him, wondering if his master was satisfied. However, the creature’s tail, which up until now had been fallen between the butt-cheeks of the beast, raised, revealing what it had been hiding.

The taint of the creature was like a pinkish cave of flesh, positioned right in between its two cheeks. There was no fur on it, as it was to be expect, it was only a ring made of flesh that led directly to the inside of the creature’s body.

“Worship me, slave.” The Lion said. It didn’t gave any more instructions. It didn’t needed to give any more instructions. The will of the creature was very obvious to anyone who had a little bit of imagination.

To kiss someone’s buttocks was one thing but... this?

It was foul. It was revolting. It was depraved. It was the kind of thing that even the most debauched wrench and the most obedient slave would hesitate doing. It was something that Heracles should have flat out refused, for several reasons.

However, as he looked at that ring of flesh, Heracles didn’t felt like thinking or questioning it. Instead, he only did what was ask of him.

He grabbed the muscular cheeks, spreading them apart, causing the ring of flesh to become even more visible. He leaned forward, closed his eyes, puckered his lips, and kissed it.

The kiss lasted for nearly two seconds, and as Heracles pulled away, he heard the Lion growl at him.

“You can do better than that, Slave.” The Lion said, “Do it like you mean it!”

Heracles looked up at the Lion, before looking back at the exposed taint before himself. Soon, Heracles was leaning forward and puckering his lips again. Once more, the son of Zeus’ lips made contact with the taint, but this time, he held in there for longer.

As he kept his lips in there, Heracles could feel the scents of the Lion’s tailhole. It was strong. It was filth. It was revolting. It made his penis throb with need and desire.

“Yes, that’s more like it.” The Lion said, “Now, start using your tongue.”

Heracles would have refused. He would flat out have refused doing such a thing with all his might. However, at that moment, he only did as the Lion commanded, opening his mouth with his lips glued to the Lion’s taint, and his tongue moved to lick into the opening.

The full force of the taste hit him hard, and nearly made him gag. He could taste all of the things that someone could expect to taste when tasting something like that. The feeling of the foulness invaded his mouth and danced on his taste buds, as well as a lingering taste of meat that the Lion might have once eaten. However, it was not nearly as revolting or filthy as Heracles would probably expect. The Lion seemed to be surprisingly clean back there, even though it was still foul.

Heracles should have pulled away, spat and rubbed his tongue against the floor to get rid of the taste. However, he didn’t. He had the feeling that doing so would anger the Lion, and he didn’t wanted to anger the one who defeated and claimed him. So, Heracles limited himself to whimpering pitifully, as he kept flicking his tongue against the taint of the Lion, making out with it as if he had already kissed the mouth of many lovers before.

This seemed to please the Lion, as the creature would purr in approval.

“Yes, that’s it. Just like that. Urrrrr, good slave. Such a good slave.” The Lion said, and Heracles continued to whimper as he continued to kiss the Lion’s taint passionately. As he did, his penis throbbed between his legs. Heracles was not the only one, as the licking of its taint was causing the Lion’s penis, previously flaccid after cumming down Heracles’ throat, to start throbbing, as blood flowed back in there slowly.

Suddenly, the Lion pulled its buttocks away from the fallen hero. Heracles was take off guard, and he had to brace himself not to fall forward. However, barely he prevented himself from landing on his chest on the stone ground, when the foot of the Lion pressed on his chest, pushing him and causing him to fall backwards, landing on his back on the ground.

Heracles was surprised and confused. The taste of the Lion’s taint was still on his mouth. The taste of foulness was all in the inside of his mouth. However, in the middle of it, Heracles could taste something else. Something that stood out among the foulness. Something strong. Something... masculine.

Heracles felt something looming over him, and he opened his eyes and looked up in time to see the same pair of buttocks had had been worshipping hoovering over his face. The Lion was now crouching over Heracles’ face, squatted down so much that its ass was just an inch away from Heracles’ face. The taint of the Lion was align nearly perfectly with the human’s mouth, and it still glistened with saliva.

“Now, this is better.” The Lion said, “Get back at work, slave.”

Heracles blinked, as his mind took full register of what was happening now. Soon, Heracles was once more acting as instructed. He raised his head upwards, and his mouth once more made contact with the Lion’s taint. Once more, the downed hero was licking and kissing that opening, causing the Lion to purr above him.

That would certainly be a sight to behold to anyone who was to walk into such a scene. The Lion of Nemea turned into a man-like beast, naked and squatting above the mighty Heracles. Its buttocks right above the hero’s mouth, and the sounds of licking and sucking could be heard as the son of Zeus’ kissed that taint as if it was his one true love.

All the while, the Lion continued to purr, as blood traveled to its cock, causing it to harden again.

Meanwhile, Heracles continued to whimper as he serviced the Lion. However, there was another sound starting to show through the whimpering of the son of Zeus.

Heracles was starting to moan.

He was moaning due to a taste that was in that taint. A taste that, while before had been masked by the foulness, now started to stand above it, as it became more and more pronounced.

Musk.

That was the taste of the Lion’s musk. The same taste that was on the Lion’s cock, despite not being as strong. Still, it was in there, and the longer Heracles serviced his conqueror’s taint, the more the taste of the musk got to him. It was as if the taste was some kind of aphrodisiac. A drug that entered his body through the mouth and slowly made the demigod dependent on it.

Heracles’ penis certainly was reacting to it, as it throbbed harder in between his legs. Pre-seminal fluid leaked from it like sap from a tree, and it joined the sweat that was coming from the body of Heracles’, which felt hot due to desire.

Just what was happening to him? Why was he doing this? Submitting like that to this beast and attending to its filthy and depraved whims without questioning or trying to resist? Even if he had been defeated, this would not justify why he was submitting so readily to the desires of another man.

Another... man?

Was this... was this being above him... a man?

Heracles felt difficult to think otherwise. Actually, the son of Zeus felt difficult to think anything as he continued to kiss and lick at the tailhole of that creature above him. All the while, the Lion purred and growled in pleasure as the son of Zeus continued to slobber at its hole. Its cock was answering to the stimulus, as it was now once more fully erect, throbbing with each beat of the heart of the lion-headed man.

At some point, the Lion seemed satisfied, for he raised himself. That sweat-covered, musk-smelling and tasting ass raised from the face of Heracles, which was cover in sweat, both his own and the Lion’s. The strangest thing was, as the Lion got up, Heracles’ head moved as if he wanted to continued to kiss the asshole of the Lion. The fallen hero even whined in a rather submissive way, as if a child having its candy taken away.

The Lion paid him no mind, as the creature looked down at the hero, now facing him. Before Heracles had time to think properly, the Lion placed a clawed hand on the side of his body and flipped Heracles, so now the son of Zeus was laying on his chest on the floor.

“On your hands and knees.” The Lion said in a commanding voice, which dripped with lust and desire.

Heracles’s mind was still processing what had just transpired. However, he didn’t tried to protest or resist the order, and did as he was told. He was rather slow, as his body was trembling in a rather strange way. Was it fear? Lust? Some mixture of the two? Heracles could not really tell, but he felt more inclined towards “lust”.

As Heracles now stood on his hands and knees, the Lion took position behind him. The man with bestial features went down on one knee behind the son of Zeus, and his hands rested on Heracles’ buttocks. The Lion groped and massaged them, as if he wanted to feel their properties. The Lion ran his fingers, his claws, over the hairy ass, over the crack between the mounds, and over Heracles’ taint.

Heracles shivered as he felt the fingers linger on his asshole. He blushed just like a virgin, as he was handle in a way that he himself already handled others before. Heracles knew what the Lion was doing, for he had done it himself in the past. He knew what was coming.

His suspicious were confirmed when Heracles could feel something else touching his ass. Something that was not a finger. It was rubbing on his ass-crack. Slowly. Steadily. As if its owner was getting ready to use it for another purpose.

Heracles knew what was coming. He knew exactly what that was, and he knew what the Lion planned to do with it. It made him feel a sickness on the bottom of his stomach, along with... butterflies?

“Hold still now, slave.” The Lion said, as he moved his cock back, using his hands to spread Heracles’ ass, revealing the pink ring of flesh that was the demigod’s asshole. The place he would be soon claiming as his own.

“Your Master will now be making you his’.”

His’.

His’?

Was that right?

Heracles thought of that as he did as he was told, holding his position and let the Lion continued. He didn’t even flinched as the head of the Lion’s member made contact with his asshole. He didn’t tried to fight back as he felt it pressing forward, threatening to break in and invade the part of Heracles’ body that was never invaded before.

Heracles didn’t resisted, but he could not keep his sphincter from clenching to the incoming intrusion. However, that did nothing to deter the Lion, who only pressed harder, until the mighty phallus finally broke through the resistance and started penetration.

Heracles shivered and let out a sound that was something between a moan and a whine. He had never been penetrate before. He had many lovers, but none of them had ever come close to his ass unless it was to caress it or to grab it while he fucked their mouths. Heracles’ ass had remained unclaimed during all of his life.

Until the Lion took claim of it.

The Lion growled, as he looked down at the hero.

“Do you feel it, Heracles?” The Lion said. Heracles shivered as his body tried to deal with the invader on his ass. It felt strange to him. Uncomfortable. Painful even. However, it also felt... somewhat good.

Heracles was distracted from the phallus on his sphincter as his hair was roughly grab by the clawed hand of the Lion. Heracles cried out in pain as his head was pull back, and the Lion growled at him in a way that was nearly threatening.

“I asked you a question, Slave!” The Lion demanded. “Do you feel... it!?”

The Lion jerked his hips, making his phallus move roughly inside of Heracles’ ass, causing the hero to gasp.

“Y-yes!” Heracles said, shivering from head to toe. “I-I can feel it.”

“What is it that you feel?” The Lion asked, still holding Heracles by the hair, and the son of Zeus saw himself whimpering, as he answered:

“Y-your penis... i-in my ass.”

“Yes, that’s right.” The Lion said. “That is the cock of your Master. Now say! Say it is the penis of your Master!”

“T-this is...” Heracles managed to breathe out. “I-it is... m-my Master’s p-p-penis.”

“Yes. It is the cock of a true man.” The Lion said. “Say it!”

“I-it is the cock of a... of a true... m-man?”

“Was that doubt in your voice, Slave?” The Lion snarled, pulling harder at the hair of the demigod. “Say it again, and this time you better mean it! Or else...”

Heracles whimpered, and then, he managed to say:

“T-this penis is... t-the penis of... a real man.”

“Say it again!”

“I-it is the penis of...a real man.”

“Again!”

“It is the penis of a real man.”

“Again!”

“It is the penis of a real man!”

“Again!”

“It is the penis of a real man! This penis in my ass is the penis of a real man!”

“That’s right, Slave!” The Lion nearly roared. “This is the penis of a real man! Of a superior man! It is the penis of your Master! Never forget it!”

Heracles moaned as he was fucked, his own member throbbing between his legs as the Lion did as he wanted with him.

Yes. He.

The Lion was a ‘he’. Not an ‘it’.

That being fucking him was not mere beast. He was a man. A stronger man. A better man. A superior man.

And he made sure to leave it very clear to Heracles as he claimed the fallen hero.

“That’s it! Are you enjoying it, hero?” He said the words with mockery, as he continued to breed the son of Zeus. “Are you enjoying being fucked and claimed like a wrench? Of course you are! After all, you are my inferior, and as my inferior, it is an honor and a privilege for you to be taken by your betters, like myself!”

“Y-yes...” Heracles said, nearly absent-mindedly, as the Lion continued to breed his ass.

“Yes, that’s right! This is your true place!” The bestial man continued, “This the proper place for inferior men! Being claim by their betters! And all this time you tried to be a hero! What a joke! You are no hero! Or at least you are a false one! You are too low to be a real hero! You were just pretending to be one as a way to uphold the image of the powerful son of Zeus! Now you show what you really are, a lowly man who belongs under a superior one! A disgrace to the name of Zeus!”

Heracles blushed as the Lion admonished him, letting out whimpers as these words cut into him deeper than they would if they come out from the mouth of any other individual, and causing a sense of shame and self-consciousness that no other man would have caused if they spoke these words. Still, despite the feeling of shame, these words also awoke something else in the son of Zeus.

It was as if... these words were true. As if the Lion was saying nothing more than to speak the truth to Heracles as he told him how inferior he was.

Even as he insulted and demeaned Heracles by calling him “weak”, by saying that he was “a false hero” and “a shame to the name of Zeus”, the Lion was doing nothing more than to speak to Heracles the naked truth. All the while as he bred him like a fertile woman, as if he wanted to make sure that Heracles would take the truth deep into himself.

And taking the truth Heracles was. He was taking it, accepting it, and being grateful at the Lion for saying it to him, not out of malice, but to let him realize that this was where he was supposed to be. Where he belonged.

That this was his true destiny.

“Yes!” Heracles cried out, unable to contain his joy and pleasure. “Yes! You are right! I am an inferior man! I was never mean to be a hero! I was mean to be a slave for a real man! I was mean to be your slave! My strong, beautiful, majestic master! Please! Breed me! Claim me! Make me yours!”

This seemed to trigger something within the Lion, for while one of his clawed hands tightened its grip on Heracles’ butt, the other one reached out to grab his hair and starting to pull it. Not to hurt, this time, but to have a leverage to breed him even harder.

And the Lion bred him hard. With a ferocity that very few mortal men could hope to match. Each thrust sent the whole member in and out into the vulnerable hole, from the tip of the head to the base of the hilt. Heracles’ asshole felt sore from the raw, violent breeding, and yet, the pleasure overwhelmed the pain massively, as the member poked on something deep inside of him. The same happened to the pain of having his hair pulled, as it gave him the feeling of humiliation and pain were overshadow by the feeling that he was just being remind of his new place in the world, his new destiny. Even the feeling of the Lion’s bigger, fertile balls slapping against his own with each thrust of the bestial man filled Heracles with excitement, as he was reminded that soon the seed that churned inside of them would soon be flooding his hole, truly claiming him into his new life.

“M-master! Ohhhh, Gods! Master! Master! Please! Masteeeeeeeeeeeeeer!” Heracles wailed, crying out to the heavens as the Lion roared, hilting inside of him as his penis throbbed, his balls tightening, as they pulled closer to his body. Heracles could feel it. He could feel the member throbbing into his ass, and he felt the warmth of the sperm being spill inside his bowels.

It was a feeling like nothing Heracles ever had before.

So strange. So alien.

So right.

Heracles’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a weak whine escaped from his throat, as being claim by the Lion triggered his own orgasm.

Without a single touch to his member, Heracles came. He came from being use. He came from being fill. He came just as a woman would.

Like an inferior man like himself would.

His penis throbbed, as it squirted jets of pearly white cum, all of them landing on the ground beneath Heracles. Wasted. Useless. None of it ever fertilizing a female. It didn’t had to. After all, inferior men like Heracles weren’t meant to get women pregnant only to produce more inferior men. No, this was a task for superior men. Inferior men, like Heracles, only served to pleasure the superior ones when they were breeding a female to produce descendants.

That was exactly what Heracles was doing now.

This mere thought made Heracles feel even more elated by his own orgasm. An elation that men felt when they knew that they were right where they were supposed to be. That they had found their purpose and their place in the world.

That was Heracles destiny. That was his place.

Under a superior man, like the Lion.

Heracles came more and harder than any time before in his entire life. Twenty shots of his pearly-white seed landed on the ground, while the Lion shot nearly twice as much seed into his ass. By the time his orgasm subsided, it left behind a feeling of euphoria, which was familiar to Heracles and yet, as his orgasm, more intense than any he had before.

Heracles’ insides felt warm. His body was shaking in the lingering feeling of his release. He could still feel the member of his master on his butthole. His breath escaped from his throat in ragged gasps. The Lion finally relented his grip on his hair. Immediately, Heracles’ arms gave out on him, and the front of the son of Zeus dropped to the ground. His chest and head landed on the cum that he had just shot, and Heracles didn’t tried to get up from having fallen, instead only continuing to pant, just like the Lion behind him.

For a long moment, they just remained like that. Heracles with his chest and face on the ground while his buttocks were still in the air, the cock of his master still deeply buried on his hole, occasionally still twitching as the Lion moved. The bestial man looked down at the hero who he had defeated and claimed.

“Slave?” The Lion said, and this caused Heracles to stir slightly. The hero moved, letting out a submissive whine when a sudden movement from him moved the cock inside his hole, reminding him of its presence. Eventually, Heracles was able to look over his own shoulder, at the Lion behind him.

That beautiful man with the features of a beast.

That true example of masculinity and power.

His master.

“Master...” Heracles said, submission on his voice and on his eyes.

The Lion looked back at him, and he no longer saw the defiance that one would expect on the eyes of someone who is going to fight his fate. These were not the eyes of a rival who would defy you and try to take you down. These were not the eyes of a hero who would never give up.

These were the eyes of someone defeated. These were the eyes of a conquered enemy, of a conquered prey that resigned to their fate. These were the eyes of a poor soul who would no longer fight, for he knew that there was no longer any point on trying.

These were the eyes of a slave.

By seeing those eyes, the Lion knew. Heracles was his’.

The Lion looked at his conquered enemy, his prize, and his muzzle formed a smile that showed his sharp fangs. Straightening his back and placing his arms on his side, the Lion basked on the feeling that he had conquered Heracles, and that now he was going to have a long and prosperous life on his new status as the king and ruler of that land.

Just like Hera had promised him.

Raising his hands to the ceiling of the cave, and to the heavens outside of it, the Lion let out a powerful roar. The roar of a lion that had conquered an enemy and claimed victory. A roar of celebration and a show of his power.

A roar heard into the cave, and many kilometers around it, as well as in the sky above.

A roar that resounded all the way to the house of the gods.

As the Lion roared and Heracles whined submissively at his new master’s roar, they were only half-aware that there was an audience for the spectacle that had just transpire in there, with them both as the main actors.

---

---

There was someone watching them, but not hiding in the shadows or remaining hidden behind the rocks on the entrance of the cave.

No.

Their audience was in the main throne room of Olympus. With ground of the purest marble that could never exist in the mortal world, with pillars made of pure gold, as well as all of the furniture in there, including the throne where a woman was sitting.

However, this woman was not mere woman. She looked like a woman, but a single look at her would allow anyone to know that she was far more than any woman could ever hope to be. She was more beautiful, more regal, more elegant and more powerful than any woman in existence could be. Not a single woman alive could even hold a candle to her mere presence.

Still, time after time she had to deal with the infidelities of her husband, who went around after nymphs and mortal wrenches, going to bed with them and producing a number of those little bastards, like the one who dared trying to earn her favor by naming himself in honor to her.

The nerve of that little half-mortal shit.

However, Hera, the wife of Zeus and goddess of marriage, no longer worried about that. She knew that she would never have to worry about such things again.

As she looked at the orb formed from the water of the fountain in the middle of the throne room, she took delight in seeing her husband’s little bastard with his face on the dirt and on his own spilled seed, as the beast who had claimed him roared in victory after defiling that wannabe hero.

As she watched it, she shuddered, as a feeling of satisfaction that would have killed any mortal woman washed over her. This was a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure that only a goddess such as herself could have, and that would only be given to her by two means, as the goddess of marriage: by her own efforts or by those of her husband.

Sighing, Hera tightened the grip of the man whose head was between her legs. She pulled at the hair of the naked man who had been servicing her with his mouth, forcing him to raise up so they could look eye to eye. The man had half-lidden eyes. His face, hair and beard all matted with the juices of the many orgasms that he had given his wife. His face, normally stern with power and seriousness, now showed a mask of pure submissiveness to the woman he had been servicing.

Zeus did not looked as regal and magnificent as he normally was, but he still looked far more than any man could ever be. That was even more visible by the fact that the king of Olympus was currently naked, with his perfect masculine body exposed in all of its glory. There were only two things on his naked body that could be consider, even if remotely, as a form of clothing.

The first one was a metal collar that was clasp around his neck, latched and locked in place. Curiously, this collar bore a very strong resemblance to the one that the Lion had placed on Heracles after bringing him to its lair.

The second one was a metal contraption that Zeus had on his penis. It was a chastity cage, like the one that prisoners and guards, even priests, were made to use, to keep them from succumbing to their human desires and keep their minds into what was truly important. At first glance, it looked like a normal contraption of its type, composed of two metal rings, one on the base of the member while the other fit around the base of the balls. Attached to the rings, was the main body of the artifact, which enveloped the member of the male, to avoid it from becoming erect, with only a single opening at the end, to allow the man to urinate. However, this was no normal contraption of its kind. Any device of such nature would be able to hold back the erection of a normal man, but not that of a god, and certainly not that of Zeus. Any normal device of its kind would be destroyed by the sheer force of the divine phallus, as no metal would be able to fight back the sheer might of divine flesh.

This one worked, however. Zeus let out very undignified whimpers as his hips moved. Inside of the cage, his member tried to get erect, but found itself to be far weaker than the contraption that was holding it. Zeus could not have an erection and, as such, he was not able to reach release. The chastity cage was able to hold down his mighty divine phallus.

That was because it was no mere chastity device. It was made by none other than Hephaestus, the immortal blacksmith of Olympus.

He was born a son of Hera, but she rejected him due to him having been born malformed. Hera still felt the love a mother would feel for her child, but she just could not bring herself to look at him for too long. That was how unsightly Hephaestus was.

However, Hera recognized, with great deal of pride, that while not being beautiful, Hephaestus was extremely skilled as an artificer. Not only he created the most beautiful works of metal, both mundane and precious, but he also fabricated things that any mortal would not be able to make even in their wildest dreams.

He fabricated mechanized servants for the gods. He fabricated the most beautiful works of metal for decorating their houses. He crafted the bolts that Zeus used. He constructed the very throne were Hera was sitting now. And, most notably, he manufactured the cage that was keeping Zeus chaste, just like the collar that he wore around his neck. The one on Heracles had also been made by Hephaestus, an inferior version of Zeus’ one.

Hera felt like she should compliment Hephaestus on the job he did with those, but remembered herself that he did nothing more than to fulfill the request of his mother and queen.

Months ago, right after having caused Heracles to fall into the madness that killed his own wife and children, Hera went to Hephaestus, and made a request for him.

It was a very special request, and quite a daring one to ask, even for the queen of Olympus.

Hephaestus had been hesitant, as he knew that, if Hera’s plan for the things she requested failed, the consequences would inevitably befall on him for having taken part on her plot. However, he accepted. Perhaps it was out of hope that, if it all went to plan, Hera would finally start being more motherly towards him, despite of his appearance.

So, Hephaestus worked on Hera’s request in secret, and he did focused a great deal of his attention to it, to the point of nearly ignoring his other projects. It took a great deal of time, to get it ready, in Hera’s opinion, but eventually, the project was done.

Three items: a chastity cage and two collars, all of them made of special metal that no mortal would be ever able to obtain, much less work into shape. But Hephaestus could.

Once Hera had these three items ready, she went to the next step of her plan.

She knew that Heracles first challenge would be to vanquish the Nemean Lion, so, she went to the beast and changed it. Altered its shape so it would have the appearance similar to that of a man, but retaining the power of its lion form, as well as many of its bestial features. She gave the creature thought in par with a human, for it would need to be able to fight Heracles and win. Then, before departing, she gave one of Hepaestus collars, the inferior one, to the Lion, giving it precise instructions of what to do with it.

For the final part of her plan, she convinced Zeus to watch Heracles’ first great deed along with her. It wasn’t hard, actually. Zeus seemed to take a great deal of pride on that little bastard, born from his own indiscretions with some mortal wrench. He did had predilection for these little bastards, born outside of the sacred bond of wedlock. A bond that Zeus would blatantly disrespect, even ignore.

Hera was the goddess of marriage, and she did behaved like a good wife should. She never looked at another man. She never considered the idea of being unfaithful. She never entertained that thought. She was loyal to her husband. However, it apparently was too much to ask Zeus to answer in kind.

She saw him ran after those wrenches and produce hordes of little bastards. She watched as he unashamedly expressed his desire for others who were not his own wife, and pursuit them as if he was not bound by any vows or promises. She watched him do that time and time again, and even though she made sure to punish both the wrenches and the bastards, she never did anything to try and stop Zeus from being unfaithful to her.

For she was a good wife.

However, her patient had finally wore thin with her husband.

As she caught him in a forest surrounded by nymphs, speaking of how beautiful they were, and how he, as the king of Olympus, could marry every single one of them, and that all of them could be at his wives at once, Hera finally had enough.

Zeus had no idea she had heard him say such thing. He never suspected. Otherwise, he would have taken suspicion on Hera’s behavior.

He didn’t saw her pulling the collar from between the folds of her dress. He was too busy watching his little bastard crawl into the canyon where the Lion (and Hera’s little surprise) waited for him. Zeus had his back turned to her as she approached with the collar; still, Hera was sure that he was in shock for seeing that creature instead of a common lion. Probably even more when he heard from the Lion’s mouth that it was Hera who had changed it into this form.

However, he didn’t had time to think about it, for that was when Hera used the chance to clasp the collar around Zeus’ neck.

The chief god was shocked, to say the least, and tried to remove the collar from his neck, only to find it would not budge, and that he was unable to break it even with all of his divine strength. He tried to touch the latch to get it to open, but found out that the collar simply could not be remove.

He then turned to Hera, demanding to know what was happening. Hera simply looked at him and said:

“I am done with your behavior.”

Zeus was not really able to come up with an answer to that. What was strange, for normally he would have many answers to it, varying from the humorous to the outraged. However, at that moment, he felt like he could not answer to Hera’s words. As if something was forcing him to keep his head low.

He only took a few seconds to realize that it was the collar. He touched the surface of the metal and found something engraved into it. He only needed to know that it was Hephaestus symbol.

Zeus became more and more aggravated, and he started to demand Hera to remove it. However, the goddess merely refused. This, of course, enraged Zeus, who tried to use of his authority as both the king of Olympus and as her husband for her to remove it from his neck.

Hera looked at him, and answered that she was his wife and the queen of Olympus, and that she was tired of seeing him behave like a terrible husband, and that she was going to correct this behavior.

This shocked Zeus. Of course, there hadn’t been few fights with his wife. There had been loud discussions, with their voices sounding like thunder. There had been days without speaking to each other in anger. There were days when they barely looked in the eye. However, never Hera had so blatantly defied him like that.

Hera was not afraid, of course. Her husband could be unfaithful and frivolous; he could be loud at her in his moments of anger, even intimidating. However, Zeus was incapable of raising his hand against her, he had always been. And Hera, for the first time, was taking advantage of it.

She admonished her husband, telling him how it was wrong of him to look for pleasure elsewhere, when she was always ready to please him as his wife, and how it was shameful that he would be so promiscuous, when she was chaste and devoted to him and him alone. It was not fair, and he was a terrible husband for acting like that, disrespecting her as if she was nothing.

Normally, Zeus would have come with answers to these words. However, he could not. He found out that he could not really disagree with what Hera was saying, neither he could use any of his traditional excuses at that moment. It felt like he could not deny that she was right.

He had been a bad husband.

As Zeus thought that, he took his hand to the collar around his neck, instantly knowing that it was the responsible for making him think and feel like that. Passive. Submissive. However, he found himself incapable of fighting the effects of the collar. He was unable to act like he normally would in a situation like that, and so, he let Hera have the upper hand in this.

Hera, seeing that the collar was working, smiled, as she knew that it was time for the next step.

“Look how your little bastard is doing.” She said very casually, and prompted Zeus to look at the orb that showed them Heracles’ battle with the Lion. As Zeus distracted himself from Hera by looking at Heracles’ performance, the goddess removed something else from her robes. It was the chastity cage.

Zeus saw as Heracles was slowly but surely overwhelmed by the Lion. He was nearly entranced by the scene of his son being trashed, and he didn’t even noticed as Hera’s hands touched his member. He barely noticed as a ring of cold metal was fix on the base of his penis, with his sack and gonads fit through a second metal ring. He would barely flinch, as both rings were use as anchor to a body of metal that encased his entire flaccid member into it, with the locks of the contraption being latch in place safely securing it into the god’s member.

Finally, Hera used a special key to lock the cage in place, trapping Zeus’ member inside of it, incapable of erecting or of being remove without the help of that same key, which now hanged from a necklace on Hera’s neck.

By the time Zeus saw, with a great deal of shock, Heracles surrendering himself to the Lion, his phallus was safely locked inside of the chastity cage. He only became aware of this as Hera raised up to standing position, smiling sweetly at her husband, who looked at her in shock as he looked up from his caged member.

“H-Hera...” Zeus said, sounding as if he was about to protest. However, Hera silenced him with a single finger on his lips.

“You need to be a better husband.” She said to him, “That is why you are using this.”

Zeus wanted to protest. However, he found himself unable to. He found himself unable to raise his voice or to say anything to his wife. Normally he would demand her to free his penis, maybe even threaten her (he would never truly make good to his threats, however), but he found himself unable to defy her. More so than when the collar was around his neck.

Hera smiled at him, as she saw everything falling into place, as she proceed to explain to Zeus why this was needed, and why he needed to be a better husband to his dear and beloved wife. The chief god heard it all, and agreed with all of it. One thing led to another, and soon, Hera was sitting in her throne, her legs spread, and Zeus was kneeling before her.

“Service me.” She said to Zeus, “Like a good husband.”

Zeus hesitated only for a moment, before he obeyed, and started servicing Hera with his mouth. He dragged his tongue around and over her divine sex, sometimes even probing it with his tongue. Hera enjoyed it. Especially as she got to keep watching Heracles’ downfall as Zeus serviced her.

She continued to be serviced by her husband as she saw Heracles’ being collared by the beast, then being forced to clean and suck its phallus, and then made to lick its taint.

The Lion (if it could even still be called that) made sure to use Heracles’ thoroughly, to humiliate him as much as possible and to make sure that he understood that he was defeated and claimed. Just as Hera had instructed. It was to help the power of the collar would work. Also, because it would deeply satisfy her.

By the time Heracles’ was being breed in the mouth by the man-like beast, Hera had orgasmed, squirting her divine juices all over Zeus’ face. The chief god gasped and continued to lick, as his wife’s fluids stained his features and his beard and hair. He continued and, soon, Hera would have another orgasm, as the Lion forced Heracles’ to suck on his member while breeding his mouth like it was the sex of a fertile female.

This continued all the while the Lion used Heracles. As she watched, Hera was brought to a number of orgasms by the skilled mouth and tongue of her husband, who would diligently serve her and bring her pleasure while hearing the sounds of his little bastard being claimed just like the wrench that gave him birth.

As the Lion roared in triumph, Hera had a very satisfied smile on her face, as she now knew that the little bastard was defeated once and for all.

The little shit had gotten what he deserved.

That was why she pulled on the hair of her husband to make him stop and look at her. She smiled at him, in a very sweet manner. She felt like saying something cruel to him, maybe taunting him on how his little bastard lost after how much he bragged how he would be a legendary hero and eventually join them at Olympus. However, she knew that it would be too cruel to him. He was still her husband, after all. He was not really bad. He just needed some correction to his behavior.

“So.” She said, looking him in the eyes. “Will you be a better husband now?”

Zeus looked at her for a second, before he nodded.

“Y-yes, Hera. I’ll be a better husband.”

“And how will you be a better husband?” She asked him, and Zeus was soon speaking, showing that he was speaking what she told him while he serviced her.

“By giving you the attention and respect you deserve as my wife. By focusing all of my desire and attention to you, and never look at another nymph or mortal wrench again, for none of them can hold a candle to your beauty and grace.”

“And?” She asked, and Zeus continued:

“And I’ll always put your pleasure above my own.” He said, “I’ll service you in any manner you desire, and I’ll feel happy for servicing you and making you feel good. I’ll never complain about having my penis caged, for I know that it is needed so I’ll never think of bedding another woman. I’ll be glad to have my penis locked away, and only having it freed when it is to consummate my marriage with you, only on the moments when you have decided that I deserve it for having been a good husband.”

Hera smiled, however, there was still one more thing.

“And...?”

“And I’ll always listen to all that you say and never disagree with you again.” He said to her, “You are my wife, the light of my existence, and you are intelligent and reasonable, and I have no reason to ever disagree with you or fight with you for any reason. You are my wife and I love you, so I’ll always do as you say and be the best husband I can.”

Hera smiled, seeing that her instructions had really made it to her husband’s mind. She was satisfied.

“That’s right.” She said, gently caressing his face with her hand. “That’s a good husband.”

She then leaned forward, and placed a loving kiss on his lips. Zeus shivered as she kissed him, and he looked at Hera with adoration, and then, her smile turned a bit more malicious.

“Now, get back to work.” She said, tightening her grip on his head, and pushing his head down, back to the place where he had been moments before. Zeus took the order immediately, and he was once more servicing her obediently.

Hera was satisfied with seeing her husband so dedicated to make her happy, like a good husband should. She was even more satisfied as she looked at the orb once more, seeing that the Lion now was sitting on a rock formation that somewhat looked like a throne, and Heracles’ was really close to it, licking at its armpit, drinking from the sweat and musk of his new master.

Hera felt satisfied. Fully and completely satisfied.

Her plan had worked perfectly.

Heracles’ labors and their tales ended before they could even begin, with the illegitimate son of Zeus now in a new fate, serving a bestial monster and calling it his master, looking at it with the adoration that only a slave could have for their lord. Not only that, but Hera finally managed to put her unfaithful husband in his place, under her thumb and heel, never dreaming about cheating on her or of defying her ever again.

Now, Hera would be governing as the de facto ruler of Olympus, with her obedient husband at her feet like an obedient dog. Meanwhile, the Lion, as a reward for having played its part in her plan, would live a long and satisfied life, ruling that land like a king for many decades to come, with Heracles’ at its feet like an obedient little slave and plaything, destined to prosperity and good fortune now that it had Hera’s blessing and protection.

Not a bad deal, in Hera’s opinion.