Hercules bounced his pecs as he traversed the road to his next destination, his chest swelling with pride for himself. With a bit of a surprise, the bearded demigod came to a complete stop. There, in the middle of the road, was a giant boulder on the ground, blocking the way for merchants and travelers.
The muscular Greek glanced around for any clues as to where the rock had come from. As there were no telltale signs of damage in the area, he ruled out a giant dropping it there. He slapped the cold stone twice to verify its weight. Knowing he couldn't leave the boulder there to inconvenience the mortals of Greece, Hercules decided to move it himself.
He hooked his thumbs inside the waistband that held his toga to his hips and pulled the flexible material down. The naked demigod kicked his only clothing off his heel and away, onto the nearby grass. Hercules stood, arms akimbo, before the giant boulder, appraising it for a moment.
He pressed his body to the stone and squatted slightly, spreading his arms and legs wide as he struggled to get a good grip over the massive chunk of earth. His muscles tensing, he grunted and groaned with the effort of lifting the rock from the ground. Beads of sweat began to form along his brow as he lifted. Hercules' thoughts drifted to his great wrestling match with Antaeus. The son of Poseidon and Gaia, Antaeus drew strength from the earth and would no doubt have little difficulty in moving the rock.
Hercules growled at the thought of the prolific wrestler laughing at him for struggling with such a mundane task. Hercules raised the rock higher and higher until the gargantuan boulder lay in his arms, high over the ground. Allowing his sturdy legs to bend only a little, Hercules hurled the nuisance far into the distance! The stone hit the ground again with a booming thud.
The mighty hero panted as hot sweat poured from his body. He swiped at his face to clear the stray beads from his eyes. None would ever know that it was he who cleared the road for the convenience of mortal men, but that didn't matter much to the Olympian. He'd earned enough glory that day to be content.
Hercules then heard a spiteful grunt mere steps away. He opened his eyes to see a man standing where the stone had a moment ago laid. This man had wristbands of silver and a necklace decorating his neck. Around his hips draped a simple brown loincloth, and rugged boots were wrapped around his shins and feet. The man's hard, blue eyes stared into the Greek's green pair. The stranger's hair, long and fluttering gently in the breeze, was black like Hercules' own.
"...Who are you?" the long-haired man spoke, more of a demand than a question. His chest drew breath slowly, and his hand remained firmly around the handle of his sword.
"I am Hercules, my savage friend," the nude Olympian answered with the confidence of a god. He thrust his chest out and spread his arms open, slightly exposing his flared lats. This man was dangerous, Hercules quickly realized; he needed to exert his dominance over the situation and stay alert.
"Hercules," the stranger repeated, a slight smirk on his masculine face. He looked the nude Greek over, from top to bottom, as he appraised his chances of victory against such a man. The barbarian had faced many men over his life of adventuring, men just as big -- if not bigger -- than this Hercules of Greece.
"I am Conan of Cimmeria. I have heard of your name lauded in taverns, Hercules... I am finding their stories of you harder and harder to believe true. No mere man could do what they have described." At that, Hercules merely smirked and bounced his pecs twice. Conan grunted at the display and continued, "I have come for a treasure that will restore life to a petrified prince of my land."
Hercules' expression never softened, and he maintained constant eye contact with Conan. "You seek to steal a treasure from Greece?! ...I do not believe your story, 'Conan of Cimmeria'. If you wish not the wrath of a son of Zeus, barbarian, you will leave these lands with nary more than the cloth on your hips!"
Conan's face broke into a furious scowl. He drove his sword into the grassy ground beside the road, and in one quick motion, he tore the loincloth from his hips, joining Hercules in his nakedness. As he removed his necklace, Conan remembered overhearing the clearly-exaggerated feats of heroism by Hercules. Those drunkards in the tavern sang songs of the Greek in ways that angered the Cimmerian. By their tales, he learned that the demigod enjoyed wrestling. Wrestling would be how he would defeat this obstacle: he would lock muscle with Hercules himself and defeat the hero on his own soil!
"...I will take what I came here for, Olympian," Conan grunted, his words dripping with venom. His legs tensed as he slowly advanced on the bearded stud. A fire ignited in Conan's eyes, and he spread his arms wide to assume a wrestling stance. "But for now... I will take YOU instead!"
A low, ominous thunder rolled across the skies as Hercules and Conan stared intently at one another. Their bodies hardened and their muscles rolled with the inevitable fight to come. Each man carefully scanned his enemy for any weaknesses.
Hercules and Conan locked up in a grapple, hands firmly upon each other's bodies. The two men struggled in their test of strength, feet digging into the ground, legs straining and tightening for leverage. Their hands squeezed and groped the other's shoulders, arms, lats, and chests as they pushed, eager for an early advantage.
With Hercules slightly worn down from his feat of strength moments ago, Conan finally managed to get the upper hand! The barbarian threw Hercules back a step and sent his fist flying into the Olympian's big pecs, toppling him to the ground with one blow!
Hercules groaned and brought his forearm to his chest, nursing his proud pectorals. Conan quickly leapt onto his opponent. He grabbed Hercules by his curly, ebony locks and sent his fist into the dazed halfgod's face again and again! POW! POW! POW! POW! POW!!
The Cimmerian lifted Hercules by his hair half way, until the son of Zeus was kneeling, facing forward. Conan let go of those curls and leapt into the air, bringing his meaty shin down upon the back of Hercules' neck!
"UNNGH!!" the Greek cried as he hit the ground once again. The fog of doubt began to swirl in the demigod's mind. Could this man possibly be stronger than himself? He grimaced as he felt the sharp kiss of Conan's fist strike his shoulder. He heard the scuffling of boots as the long-haired barbarian rose again.
Conan panted and uttered a soft laugh. "This is the great Hercules?!" he taunted, turning his back for a moment to allow the warm winds to dry the sweat from his chest. But his few seconds of arrogance proved to be foolish. Hercules managed to get up quickly and (before Conan even noticed) sent his foot hard into the Cimmerian's lower back.
Conan howled in pain and staggered forward. Hercules pressed his advantage, wrapping his arms around his foe's waist. Conan panicked, slapping and punching at Hercules' arms to free himself -- but it was no use! The halfgod lifted his struggling opponent back and executed a suplex, throwing him over his shoulders and to the ground!
With a grunt, the barbarian skidded to a halt on the well-traveled road. He cursed his own stupidity under his breath. He would have to out think the musclebound native if he were to accomplish his mission!
"He who speaks boastfully of himself is destined to fall!" Hercules growled at his fully-mortal adversary. The powerhouse of godly muscle advanced, hoping to keep Conan on the ground and at his mercy. But the Cimmerian was quick, moving back into a wrestler's stance before Hercules could continue his punishment.
Hercules wound back and sent his fist flying at the barbarian, but Conan dodged the clumsy swing with little difficulty! Conan retaliated with his own shot to the Greek's muscular gut. Hercules felt as though he'd been kicked by the stallions of his father's chariot. Conan grabbed hold of Hercules' hair and, with a warrior's roar, drove the demigod's head down to his knee!
Conan mounted Hercules' lower back, the son of Zeus laying on his belly, moaning in confusion. The barbarian grabbed hold of the Greek's black locks once more and raised him as high, eliciting deep wails of pain from his foe. With his other hand, Conan slammed his fist into Hercules' meaty trap muscles, breaking them down into jelly.
The barbarian let his victim go and stood, only to stomp Hercules' back several times with his booted foot. The demigod groaned lowly, his opponent's every slam against his godly body further crushing his muscle to rubble. Conan kicked the son of Zeus in his flank three times, forcing Hercules onto his back.
"What is this weakness?" Conan growled angrily, dropping his knee into Hercules' stomach. The demigod uttered a hoarse groan and turned onto his side, clutching his abused belly. Conan stood over Hercules and jumped, bringing his entire weight down upon the godling's shoulder.
"AUUGHH!!" the Greek cried in pain, completely forgetting the ache that lingered deep in his gut. Hercules didn't have long to dwell on these new pains, however. Conan quickly dropped to the ground and trapped the demigod's thick neck in a leglock! The barbarian planted his other leg to the ground and secured himself firmly to the Greek.
"YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME, HERCULES!!" Conan roared, demanding the immediate and total surrender of his opponent. But Hercules did not speak or even slap the ground in submission. Like a hero of his people, he suffered through the hold to the very end.
Hercules began to sputter in frustration, his sweat-drenched hands slipping from Conan's leg with his every attempt at prying the muscular limb from his throat. A low rumble of thunder sounded in the ominous clouds above. Hercules, face fast becoming red, reached out to the sky before the world around him turned fuzzy and he passed into unconsciousness.
The Cimmerian gave Hercules' neck one final squeeze and grunted, releasing the passed-out musclestud as dead weight to the earth. The barbarian rose to his feet and planted his booted foot atop the godling's chest, grinding the leather sole into the pecs of the once-mighty Hercules.
Conan, proud and ruthless barbarian warrior, was victorious.
The barbarian moved to retrieve his belongings, but stopped halfway. He grunted and looked over his shoulder at the bearded Greek. Hercules had given him nothing but trouble and it wasn't enough to simply leave him knocked out in the road. No. He wanted more.
Lovemaking between men was common in the lands of both studs, but on occasions like this, it marked something more primal: domination of one man over another and the surrender of his body and all the pleasures it brought to the winner. Truly, as he did with females, Conan felt arousal toward other males. An absolute top by nature, Conan allowed no other to penetrate his hole. Those very few who did were only able to gain access by the unspoken law of victory sex. Fortunately for Conan, today was not one such day.
Conan ran his hands between Hercules' massively-muscular thighs, spreading them apart and causing the Olympian to rouse, shuddering in pleasure. Hercules' unbelievable body was impressive to the Cimmerian. Of course, Conan was bigger. He'd won the battle and thus the right to call himself mightier.
The barbarian grabbed hold of Hercules' heavy cock and began stroking it slowly, up and down. As he pumped that cock, he watching the thick, uncut foreskin that covered the head retreat back down over the shaft. He then grabbed Hercules' big balls in his other hand and began to squeeze them like a well-ripened fruit.
"Shall I end your lineage here, Hercules?" Conan asked darkly, giving the halfgod's orbs another rough squeeze. The barbarian watched in amusement as the heavy sac full of semen pushed out around his fingers as he compressed those balls.
Hercules bellowed like a wounded beast. The manly source of his testosterone was being slowly strangled by the victorious savage! "N-No! Please... Not my seed! I surrender to you... great Conan!! I am yours!!"
A loud, crackling thunder boomed across the sky above...
Zeus sat upon his throne in anger. His powerful son had failed to overcome the foreign barbarian and now lay in the position of bitch. A steady rumble of thunder echoed across all of Greece as Zeus watched Conan mount Hercules in triumph.
Hercules sat on his arms and knees before Conan, Conqueror of Olympus, his legs spread slightly open and his meaty ass in the air. Conan took his rightful place atop Hercules' backside. His cock was hard and leaked precum in a steady stream between the godling's glutes. Conan would enjoy this greatly. No man or god would stand between him and whatever he desired. Hercules and all of Greece would soon learn that lesson well.
Conan took a moment to bring his arms up in a double bicep pose, flexing the muscles that vanquished the once-mighty Hercules. He grabbed hold of the halfgod's powerful hips and held them firmly as he guided his manhood to the entrance of his greatest conquest yet...
"Hngh! Hercules' hole is sucking me greedily," Conan grunted in pleasure, head thrust back as he fed the Olympian's backside with urgency. The demigod's hole squeezed down tightly around his shaft, rewarding the barbarian for his well-earned victory.
A deep bellow of longing came from Hercules' throat as the heavy Cimmerian cock filled him fully. He could feel that manhood drive quickly into the deepest reaches of his body. He could feel Conan's hands upon his waist as he was held steady -- controlled, dominated by the stronger man. In and out, Conan's fat cock skewered Hercules' depths, pushing firmly against the demigod's prostate and causing him to cry out in heat.
Conan grabbed hold of Hercules' curly black locks, holding the demigod dominantly as he intensified his thrusting. Beads of sweat showered down from the Conqueror of Hercules onto the back of the halfgod himself.
"I thought... you were... supposed to be strong," Conan growled between grunts, his voice drenched with disdain for Hercules' pitiful performance in combat. He'd expected something more challenging, but with a godly hole between the cheeks of a monster of muscle to claim as his own, Conan felt that his time wasn't entirely wasted.
Hercules could say nothing to defend his honor. Somehow, this foreign warrior had vanquished him, and now he bore the consequences of his loss.
As soon as Conan's sweaty fingers released his hair, Hercules lowered his head to the ground, hiding his face. He defeated male kept his fists clenched tightly as he was bred, his breaths struggling to remain calm. He felt Conan's heavy balls slap his own with every fuck into his quivering body. The Olympian had never felt so defeated, and yet his cock remained rock-hard and leaking in testament to his excitement.
Conan's hips gyrated quickly as he sank his manhood into Hercules again and again. The barbarian pushed his chest out to the sky, his victory bringing great honor to his god, Crom.
For nearly two hours, Cimmerian bred Olympian with strength and pride. Conan never tired of his domination and destruction of this arrogant halfgod hero. The barbarian's every thrust brought both men closer to the edge, and finally, they came together.
Conan roared in pleasure as his cock, buried to the hilt inside his vanquished adversary, spurt rope after rope of hot, white cum deep within those tight confines! Hercules uttered a low, guttural wail as he was seeded by his master. His own cock began to erupt, wasting his heavenly seed onto the dirt below.
Minutes passed as the two men continued to orgasm, their balls heavy with cum and the need to release it. Soon, Hercules' body could no longer contain Conan's semen, and it began to splatter out from around the barbarian's fat cock.
"Haaaghh... Not bad," Conan sighed and, with a deep grunt, pulled his softening cock from Hercules' pummeled hole. That pink ring sucked one last time at Conan's legendary manhood before finally giving it up and allowing it to go free.
"Remember this, Olympian," the barbarian spoke as he stood, placing his booted foot upon Hercules' massive back, "Conan ALWAYS gets what he wants. When next we meet, you will kneel before me and surrender yourself to your conqueror. Do not stand in my way again."
Conan replaced his necklace, his loincloth having since been blown away. He released his sword from the ground's embrace and walked away, leaving a passed-out Hercules naked and alone. He grabbed his sword and continued on his mission to find the rare artifact that he would claim for his homeland and its people.
"Whoa, baby bro! Got your ass handed to you, huh?" laughed a familiar voice, staring at the cum slowly seeping from Hercules' hole and the telltale puddle that lay between his thighs. The muscular god lifted Hercules into his arms and roused him awake. Ares, god of war, smirked at the beaten and screwed body of his younger brother. "You're in it deep this time, Herc. Dad is not happy with you right now. He wants to see you, so... I volunteered to bring you to him myself. Aren't I nice?"
"Ares... no, please..." Hercules moaned, hand weakly clutching the powerful god's pec. He dreaded how Zeus might punish him for his loss to the long-haired barbarian. He pleaded with Ares to not take him back to the home of the gods, but his big brother merely smirked at him.
"Don't worry, Herc," Ares assured as he teleported them both back to Mount Olympus, "I'll rub lots of ambrosia cream on your ass after Dad gets done spanking it raw."
● Alternate Ending: Hercules Wins ●
Hercules wound back and sent his fist flying at the barbarian. Though Conan had intended to dodge the clumsy swing, a sharp spike of pain in his upper back distracted him momentarily, giving Hercules the time he needed to connect the blow! Conan saw stars as Hercules' fist crashed into his face, and he fell to the ground, moaning before his opponent's feet.
The demigod grabbed hold of Conan's wrist. With the littlest effort needed, he lifted the barbarian up to meet his knee just as it came soaring at Conan's head! The Cimmerian groaned at the new pains in his skull as Hercules lifted his aching body up and onto his shoulders.
"Men like you come to Greece," Hercules grunted, marching Conan in a circle around their makeshift battle arena. Conan, head-splitting pains taking the fight out of him, merely remained still and watched the world around him spin as he listened to the demigod. "Men who think they can defeat the mighty Hercules!"
"I SHOW THEM HOW WRONG THEY ARE!!" he roared, suddenly jumping into the air and turning at an angle, bringing his entire weight down upon Conan as they descended to the earth! Conan bellowed like a beast of burden as he was flattened under the massive weight of the godly Greek.
Hercules was quick to sit up. He grabbed hold of Conan's long, black hair and turned him around. Maintaining that firm grip of the barbarian's head, he sent his open hand across Conan's rugged face, slapping him repeatedly. A low moan sounded from the Cimmerian's gut as he was slapped again and again, burning his cheeks and humiliating him greatly.
Hercules, straddling Conan's waist, let go and allowed his foolish enemy a moment's rest. Conan gulped air into his lungs, his arms and legs spread eagle and flat to the ground. The barbarian watched as Hercules balled his fists and reared back for an assault on his chest! Conan struggled to move his arms to defend his pecs, but he couldn't summon the strength to act fast enough.
The son of Zeus sent his fists down like a meteor shower onto Conan's unprotected chest. The flurry of punches quickly wore down those twin titans of muscle. Beads of salty sweat sprayed all around them as Hercules continued his attack until, at last, he grew bored and stopped.
"Now to be certain you learn..." Hercules grunted, scooping up a groaning Conan into his arms. The chests of the two nude men pressed closely together for a moment as Hercules observed his mortal foe. Conan's head swayed and lolled slightly, and the fires that once burned in his eyes had waned significantly. It was time.
Hercules' mighty arms began to slowly crush Conan's abs and cock against his meaty torso! Tighter and tighter, he squeezed until the barbarian's legs were lifted off the ground and spread wide apart. Conan began to bellow long and low, and he weakly punched at Hercules' arms and shoulders to break the bearhug. But his attacks were like that of a babe's against the halfgod.
Joints began popping in Conan's back as the compression continued, and it wasn't long before Conan screamed his surrender to the powerful Greek. Conan roared his submission again and again, begging Hercules to spare him, the pains in his back too great to bear any longer. Conan held onto Hercules' massive back and buried his face in the powerful demigod's neck, moaning for release.
Hercules was pleased. He locked eyes with the once-arrogant Cimmerian and flashed him a brief smirk before dropping him to the ground. Yet another man had surrendered to the bone-crushing bearhug of Hercules. He'd long since lost count of how many it had been.
Hercules, son of Zeus and hero of Greece, was victorious.
The demigod brought his arms up in a graceful pose, his cock standing at full, throbbing erection, accentuating the rest of him. He allowed his sweat to water the ground below as he basked in the glory of his domination of another man. Hercules' cock flowed a steady stream of precum down upon Conan's body.
Hercules knelt to grab the defeated barbarian by his hair, lifting him up to a sitting position. As Conan parted his lips to moan through the pains electrifying his body, Hercules slid his godly cock into the warmth of Conan's mouth.
Conan's arms remained limp and by his side, allowing Hercules to fully control the act. With a handful of the barbarian's black locks, Hercules guided Conan's head in rhythm with his hip thrusts, enjoying the pleasures that his new conquest's mouth brought.
"Foolish barbarian," Hercules sighed in contentment, the thrill of his victory just beginning. "Such is the fate of men who dare to plunder the riches of Greece!"
Hercules held Conan's head with both hands as he began a firm and quick thrusting into the Cimmerian's mouth. With what little dignity he had left, Conan forced himself to not choke on the fat cock that made his mouth its new home. He could taste the Olympian's sweet scent on his tongue with every delve to the back of his throat. He understood quickly that he'd never be able to forget that taste.
"You have honored me with your victory, my son," soon came a familiar voice behind Hercules. The muscular demigod stopped his thrusting (much to Conan's relief), and turned his upper body to face the owner's voice. A warm, beaming smile broke out across the bearded male's face. It was Zeus: his father and the king of the gods.
Conan's wide eyes shifted to the white-haired god. The powerful god merely smirked at Conan as he approached. He knelt next to the barbarian and spoke, "Continue, Hercules."
For the next several minutes, Zeus himself watched as Hercules took his prize from Conan's mouth. The barbarian, humiliated beyond belief, continued sucking hard on Hercules' mammoth manhood, hoping to get the heavy organ to erupt and end his ordeal. But that was not to be.
The Olympian halfgod turned and bent over, his meaty ass demanding attention from the defeated Cimmerian.
"Clean the sweat from my buttocks, barbarian! I command you for the pleasure of Zeus!"
Conan grunted disdainfully at the humiliation he was forced to undergo, but soon complied with the demand. His tongue stuck out timidly, lapping at the salty battle sweat from between the Greek's muscular ass.
Zeus grabbed a handful of Conan's ebony hair and pulled the barbarian's head from his son's backside. The god of thunder turned the Cimmerian's face toward him and snarled, "Show some gratitude, ungrateful swine. Do you know how many mortals dream about what you're doing for Hercules? Thank him for the privilege and return to your task."
"Th-thank you... agh! M-Mighty Hercules..." Conan yelped and winced, Zeus' grip growing tighter all the while. Satisfied with the barbarian's response, the father of all men let him go. Fearing the god's wrath, Conan buried his face between Hercules' powerful ass and worshiped the Mediterranean hero in earnest.
"He learns quickly, Father," Hercules grunted in pleasure, flexing his cheeks as he brought his arms up in a double bicep pose. He could feel Conan's tongue slowly glide over every inch between his buns, once in a while resting upon his tight hole.
"Now, Hercules. It is time for you to consummate this battle!" Zeus commanded, a strong rumble of thunder rolling across the sky. With a wave of his hand, Zeus' magic destroyed Conan's rugged boots and metal wristbands, leaving the barbarian as nude as the day he was born. "Breed into this barbarian the humility he's been sorely lacking for decades!"
Conan lay upon his upper back, legs spread wide and ass hoisted up off the ground. Hercules assumed his rightful place between those meaty thighs, his wet cockhead pressing firmly against Conan's quivering hole. Just as quickly as he'd spread his legs for Hercules did the demigod plunge his heavy cock deep inside his tight, hot depths!
Low, deep grunts sounded from Conan as he was taken by the Greek. He felt Hercules' wet manhood spread him wide open as he entered and the fat head scratch his inner walls as it retreated. With each thrust, Hercules felt himself delve deeper and farther into the barbarian, opening up his fallen opponent to take more of him.
"Haaghh... He is opening up, Father," Hercules happily reported to Zeus who stood next to his son, watching the foreign warrior's ravaging. "His sheath clings tightly to my sword, but it is beginning to suck me in..."
"Yes, Hercules! Harder!" Zeus ordered, watching the pummeling of Conan's ass intensify. Hercules' mighty hips slammed into the Cimmerian's muscular backside, sending shockwaves rippling across the mortal's body. Conan began to moan in lust, the last remnants of his cold machismo finally broken into rubble.
Pride swelled in Hercules' chest as he watched the barbarian writhe on the ground below him, moaning like it were his first time. Hercules' cock reached deep now, fully penetrating Conan and stroking his prostate in ways he'd forgotten existed. The Olympian's cock spurt heavy ropes of precum into the man he'd bested in battle, helping to lubricate their sex even further.
The king of the gods decided that he would enjoy himself, too. He would put the barbarian's tongue to better use than mere moaning. Magically stripping himself of his skirt and strap, the white-haired god squatted over Conan's face and seated himself atop his new throne.
Without hesitation, the aroused barbarian's tongue darted out and began to worship at Zeus' backside. His tongue dragged across that tight ring, picking up the taste of sweet ambrosia and the heavenly scent of Zeus. Conan soon lost himself in the act and lovingly rimmed the powerful god as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Zeus sat silently upon Conan's face, arms akimbo, as he watched Hercules' cock thrust in and out of Conan's well-broken-in hole. The rimming he received from the Cimmerian was clumsy and inexperienced, but it showed the human's devotion and submission to a power higher than himself. For that, Conan received no retribution.
"Now, my son! Finish this! Seal his fate!" Zeus commanded, thunder crackling loudly in the skies above.
As soon as he was ordered to, Hercules came inside Conan. The demigod thrust his chest out and his head back, roaring his pleasure as he seeded the deepest depths of the barbarian. Rope after rope of hot, white Olympian cum flooded the mortal's hole.
Just as Conan was about to cum, Zeus grabbed hold of the man's balls and squeezed them firmly, stopping the flow to the cock.
"No," he growled, giving Conan's throbbing, sopping-wet cock a firm slap with the back of his mighty hand. "I have yet to be satisfied, barbarian. Only when I have cum will you be allowed release."
Zeus rose to his feet and watched as Hercules pulled out of his former adversary. His semen gushed from Conan's ass as the sweat-drenched Cimmerian fell fully to the earth and drifted into a deep sleep.
"You have done well, my son," Zeus spoke warmly, hand upon his boy's broad shoulder. "Now it's my turn. I shall bring this man with me to Mount Olympus and ensure that he has learned a valuable lesson this day. I sense that Sergios could use another man to make love to -- I often feel his eyes linger on my buttocks as I bathe. This savage should prove valuable in more ways than one..."
Hercules, still catching his breath, watched as his father and the man named Conan were teleported from the road and away to the home of the gods. Hercules, quite pleased with himself, brought his arms up in a double bicep pose, uttering a deep grunt of satisfaction.
He grabbed his toga skirt from the side of the road and continued on his way to Thebes. He could use a bath, a fat jug of wine, and a skilled pair of hands to massage his sore body. A hero of Greece needed rest and relaxation to prepare for his next great feat.
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