VILLAINS LEAGUE

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

It was the hour of Nix, when the world exhales and truth no longer bothers to hide. The sun had long surrendered the sky, and the moon stood high. Full, pale, and watchful—as I left the Spartan road and descended into the lowlands. I traveled alone. I always do when the gods begin to whisper. Companions slow the hand and cloud the will when destiny sharpens its edge. I am Hyllus. My name has survived empires that thought themselves eternal. I carry it not for pride, but because I must. I am descended from Hercules, son of Zeus, breaker of trials, bearer of impossible labors.. My body is the record of centuries. I am not shaped by youth, nor swollen by vanity. My strength is old strength. Muscle laid upon muscle by war, restraint, discipline, and time. Thick cords bind my arms and shoulders, veins rising like carved stone beneath scarred skin. My torso is broad, heavy—nearly two hundred eighty pounds of Spartan mass, forged through repetition no mortal lifetime could endure. Each movement is economical. Each breath measured. Hephaestus himself could not have tempered me more precisely. And yet… I am only what remains. The godly essence passed down from Hercules has thinned through generations. It no longer burns constantly. It waits. It answers only when I act as I was meant to act.

The first sign came not as a voice, but as unease. A whisper reached me through intermediaries—priests who spoke too carefully, messengers who avoided my eyes. Then an acolyte found me at a roadside shrine, shaking, breath ragged, hands stained with ash. He knelt without being told. That alone told me enough. He spoke a name I had hoped never to hear. Darfos Bazoorca. Of a plot not against a city, nor a king—but against a god. Bjarg. He plans to not only kill him but also take his powers to conquer the other gods.. The acolyte fled before dawn. Wise, perhaps. Cowardly, maybe. It matters little. The truth remained with me. As I turned toward the mountains where Darfos gathers his power, I felt it then—the familiar pressure behind my sternum. A warmth. A glow. Faint at first, like embers stirred by breath. The remnant of Hercules’ gift, responding to an selfless act.

Leather pteruges settled against my hips and thighs, their strips brushing my legs with each step. Copper greaves embraced my shins; forearm guards caught the moonlight. My shield rested heavy on my back. In my hands, a gladius and a spear—simple weapons, honest weapons. Above me, a white raven crossed the moon. Apollo’s eye. It had watched for days, carrying knowledge of roads, sanctums, and hidden paths. It guided me now, silent and precise, toward the man who believes himself clever enough to kill a god. The glow in my chest swelled unmistakable. Golden light traced faint lines beneath my skin, then faded again. My godly essence. I am not a god. But I am not merely a man. I will reach Darfos Bazoorca before his rite is complete. I will stand between him and Bjarg.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

There were powerful gods in the forest, many of them. Bjarg was not the most powerful of the gods, but he was the one who held everything together, whose existence enabled communication between the gods, without which it would not exist. By destroying Bjarg, I would cause chaos in the forest and ultimately absorb all the power and authority of the gods into myself. I was ready. All that was missing was a few rituals, and I would be ready for my task. Bjarg would never know what had struck him until it was too late. Without his thick, heavy seed pods, his powers would be insignificant. Soon I would be ready.

My raven screeched in the air and landed on my window. Danger was approaching, that bastard soldier, the idiot protector of kings and gods, Hyllus. I laughed out loud and rubbed my crotch. "Brilliant, I thought. I'd take Hyllus' balls to Bjarg and shove them in his mouth before cutting his throat open," the thought amused me. "Let him come! I'm ready!!"

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

I did not hide my approach. My steps echoed through stone and root as I entered the clearing, letting Darfos feel me before he saw me. The forest itself seemed to recoil from the rites carved into the earth. I could feel Bjarg’s presence strained. I stopped before him and set my shield down first. Then the spear. Then the gladius. Steel left my hands until only my body remained. I straightened. Moonlight traced the mass of my frame—centuries of battle etched into muscle and scar. My chest rose, broad and heavy, veins tightening along my arms as the remnant of Hercules’ blood stirred within me. A faint golden glow pulsed once beneath my skin, then held.

“I am Hyllus,” I said calmly. I took one step closer. “You would destroy Bjarg and call it ascension. You mistake balance for weakness and chaos for power.” My gaze did not leave him. “End this. Step away now. The gods still allow you that choice.” I clenched my fists, feeling the old strength coil and settle, ready. “If you continue,” I finished quietly, “then I will be the last thing that stands between you and oblivion.” The forest fell silent. I waited.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

You were absolutely right. Bjarg's presence and immense masculinity, his strength, could be felt throughout the forest. Just as it should be. And you, you foolish fool, thought that your sword, your spear, and your shield would be enough to stop me. I let you approach, step by step, maintaining a malicious and self-satisfied grin on my pale face. "I've been waiting for you, Hyllus," I finally break the prolonged, icy silence as two hairy men rush at you from behind my back.

The first man is taller than you and carries a dagger in his hand. He is not shy, nor does he hesitate in his attack as he rushes towards you, striking the poisoned tip of his dagger towards your exposed jugular vein on the side of your neck. The man has a self-satisfied smile on his face as his shoulder touches your body.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

They never reach my blind side. The taller one commits too early. I feel the shift of air before I see the blade. I turn just enough and let his poisoned strike slide past my neck. My forearm snaps up, catching his wrist. Bone grinds. His grin vanishes. I take the dagger from him as if correcting a mistake. “One,” I say quietly. Then I drive the weapon into his own abdomen. Deep enough to end the fight, not enough to waste time. Then release him with a Spartan kick. He sails backward, crashing through roots and stone, breath torn from his lungs as he disappears from the clearing. I settle back into stance, shoulders square, fists loose. I look at Darfos. “Is that all?”

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

There is no doubt the poor man won´t ever reach the village. The evil poison will curdle his blood in a few minutes. I smirk and look at your helmet covered head. "I have more appeticers for you.", I chuckle when the second man surge on your legs. He wraps his arms around your knees trying to stab the dagger into your thigh. There´s no chance the man could fail. Just the idea of seeing you dying in front of my eyes makes my noble parts to swell, grow marble hard.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

The second one goes low. I feel his arms clamp around my legs, the scrape of a blade searching for flesh. The leather pteruges take the strike instead. Hide and bronze turning the dagger aside with a dull snap of force. He has committed fully. That is his mistake. I drop my weight and seize him by the wrist and shoulder in the same motion, wrenching the dagger from his hand before he can react. I haul him upward, his feet leaving the ground as easily as a training weight. For a heartbeat he hangs above me, gasping. Then I bring him down across my knee. There is a sharp, final crack. His body goes slack at once. I cast him aside without looking back. I straighten slowly, rolling my shoulders, breath steady, untouched. “This is mercy,” I say flatly, turning my helm toward Darfos. “You will receive none.” I step forward again, ready.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

I can't help but admire your skill in defeating both experienced killers in just a few seconds. Such violent efficiency is something that has always aroused me, and this time is no exception. My cock stiffens unashamedly beneath my leather loincloth, leaving nothing to the imagination as I pat my hairy arms. "I expected nothing less from you, whore of the gods," I laugh sarcastically as I spin around and slam my heel hard under your helmet, trying to crush your windpipe. "I'll give Bjarg my regards and tell him about your failure to protect him."

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

I feel the air before it lands. He is fast, faster than the men he hides behind. Your heel flashes up toward my throat, brutal and well-timed, but I twist with it, letting the strike skim past my helm. Interesting. I think then move. My fist drives hard into his liver, precise and merciless. I feel the impact sink deep, feel his breath hitch whether he admits it or not. I do not pause. I draw both arms up, hands locking together above my head, muscles coiling as I shift my weight and prepare the double-axe strike I look him squarely in the eyes. “So,” I say calmly, impressed despite myself, “you are not merely a schemer.” I hold the poised strike, letting him feel what is coming. “Good.”

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

Our eyes meet and I notice your expression becoming serious as the foolish gesture of victory on your face evaporates into the air as a cloud of confusion. My own face wears a confident grin, mischievous and mocking. A green light pushes out from my body, forming a shield around it, a shield that sends an almost stunning shock of energy into your body. It travels through your arms into your torso, piercing your chest, perhaps even stopping your heartbeat forever. "You probably remember Mage Tony. He is no longer among us, but his powers are still within me," I laugh mockingly as my knee strikes between your legs. "Do you wear bronze armor to protect your jewels, Hyllus?" My laughter echoes through the tree trunks.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

The green light hits me like a hammer. It surges along my arms, crawling up my fists and into my chest, cold and hostile. For a heartbeat the world narrows, my breath locking in place as if my body itself is being claimed. I do not panic. I stand. The energy presses inward, then stops. A golden glow ignites beneath my sternum, faint at first, then steady. Pushing back against the foreign power, swallowing it piece by piece. The green light flickers, thinning as it is resisted, denied. “So,” I murmur through my helm, voice calm again, grounded. “You steal power.” I move. My boot snaps out low, brutal, striking hard into his leg to break his balance. As he falters, I turn with the motion, drawing all that answering gold into my arm. My fist burns. I drive it forward. The punch lands square against his chin with the full weight. The impact rings through the clearing as you are hurled backward, crashing away through roots and stone. I lower my arm slowly, golden light still coiled around my knuckles. “This is power of my own making,” I say quietly. “And it does not yield.”

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

"Quite remarkable, dear Hyllus. I am not surprised why all those gods and Bjarg specially want to have you close to them. You are quite powerful man", I hiss as I get up onto my feet and rub my aching jawline. "I might want to have that golden power too!", I chuckle again as I walk next to you and without a warning snap a grab of your bulge, squeezing your balls demandingly. "You know the power is in the seed and what procuces it, your precious stones". I add some pressure on your trapped bulge and give you a hard headbutt.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

Pain detonates, stealing the breath from my lungs as you grab by huge balls. For an instant the world fractures—white sparks bursting behind my eyes as the headbutt snaps my helm back. I stagger half a step, air tearing from my chest in a harsh gasp. The forest spins. Sound dulls. But I do not fall. I plant my feet and feel my big 12 inch cock twitch under my leather gear. My hands clench into fists as my body tightens on instinct alone. Muscles knot and swell beneath my skin, veins surging thick along my arms and shoulders as I draw in breath through grit teeth. The golden glow flickers again. Unsteady, strained, but present. With a low growl, I drive my fist hard into his abdomen, a compact, brutal punch meant to fold him inward. At the same time, my other hand snaps up, seizing his wrist in an iron grip. I twist sharply, tearing his hold away and freeing myself with raw strength rather than finesse. I straighten, chest heaving once, then settling. My eyes lock onto his. “That,” I say hoarsely but steady, “was your last cheap strike.” I draw my arm back again, muscles bulging, veins standing proud.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

The powers I stole from Mage Tony protect me from the worst of the pain as I raise my back to an upright position again. I feel your yellow power in my arm, which I clung to a moment ago with my huge balls. I just need to be able to destroy your balls and empty your seed, and it will all be mine soon. I watch you stretch the muscles in your arms in front of me, showing them off, proud of them. All these muscleheads are the same, they all want to show off their equipment, but at the same time, you open up the possibility of a new attack for me. I spin on my heels like a tornado and jump on your neck like lovers, wrapping my arms around your neck far behind your back while my knees pound your chest again and again, hoping to knock you to the ground.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

The blows thud deep, driving air from my lungs. I grunt, stagger a half step, boots scraping stone but I do not go down. I flex into the impact. Neck, shoulders, core tightening like forged iron. Each strike lands, but my body absorbs it, muscle and bone taking the punishment as one. Stars flare briefly behind my eyes. I taste copper. Then my heel finds a rock. I draw breath through clenched teeth as I let out a prayer.. Gold glow floods outward from my chest, steady and absolute. My opponents stolen power flickers against it, falters for a split second, then thins—neutralized mine. His grip loosens for the briefest moment. That is enough. I hook my arms under his, rise with a roar, and slam him backward with all my weight and will. His body meets the rock with thunderous force. The rock shears in half beneath us as he is driven into it, shards exploding outward. I release him and step back, shoulders heaving. I stand over the broken stone, helm lifted toward him. “Your tricks end here,” I say, voice low and unwavering. Then I go down on one knee, grab your exposed crotch and give it one firm squeeze.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

"You must be foolish if you thought for a moment that your silly trick could hurt me. Mage Tony's powers aren't the only ones I've stolen from Pagans Woods. Where did you think all those gods and demigods disappeared to? They won't return, but their powers are inside me," I chuckle, but my smile disappears when you grab hold of the masculine gems, the source of my power. My body writhes as my scream fills the silent forest as I try to break your grip on my balls. My cock rises to its full 10 inches under the thin linen cloth covering my groin. "You devil," I scream in agony as I feel your yellow energy transfer to my balls. I grab your helmet with both hands, pushing my fingers through the eye holes, trying to pierce your bulging eyes. "Give up the fight. Die! Bjarg and ultimately all the gods are mine," I push my fingers deeper.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

Pain surges as his hands claw upward, forcing their way toward my helm. Fingers scrape against bronze, pressing hard through the eye slits, seeking weakness, sight, fear. They find none. I snarl and twist my head aside, chin tucked, neck flaring thick as I lock my forearms up, catching his wrists before they can reach my eyes. Metal groans as my helmet takes the worst of it. My vision blurs but it does not fail. My muscles flex hard, shoulders and arms swelling as veins surge like living cords beneath my skin. I feel his stolen powers thrashing wildly, unstable, fighting against my grip around those huge and swollen bullballs. The golden glow within me flares again pushing outward towards his cock and balls, engulfing them as I feel your rod getting harder and harder, your nuts starting to strain as I crush them harder and harder. “You gorge yourself on what you do not understand,” I growl, forcing his hands away from my face inch by inch. “Power taken without worth will always betray you.” I brace my stance, boots grinding into the earth, and drive my forehead forward. I straighten fully, towering, chest heaving once. “I do not fight for Bjarg alone,” I say coldly. “I fight so men like you never decide the fate of gods.” My own cock now getting rockhard from excitement, my 12 inch weapon starting to poke out between the petruges.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

Your powers are paralyzing my body, except my cock that keeps on stiffening when you crush and compress my swollen balls more and more. Your powers enter into my manhood making it leak, throb almost threateningly but there is nothing I can do to stop you. I try to grab your manhood but all I manage to do is to remove your petruges allowing your cock jump up entering between my legs. "Don´t even think about it!", I scream as my cock shoots a spray of black precum in the air. "I will make you to pay for this dearly! And when I´ve done with you I will rip off the manhood of Bjarg and stuff them into your dead throat!"

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

As the Petruges fall to the ground it exposes my massive and almost godly cock. I see the shock and fear in your eyes as my cockhead gets closer and closer towards your legs. With your cock and balls still secured in my fist I use my free hand to grab your legs, one by one, tucking them over my broad shoulders and lifting your ass off the ground. My green eyes look deep into yours as I THRUST my cock into your hole without hesitation. Forcing its way deep into you. Impaling you. My body shudders and I let out a MOAN as my cockhead reaches your prostate and I immediately start to fuck you hard. Merciless, like a sword I start to ravage your insides as I crush your balls harder and harder. “After I am done with you, I will offer your balls to Bjarg, so he can do with them as he desires” Then my body twitches again as I feel blood covering my cock as I FUCK your insides hard.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

My scream can be heard across the woods when your giant cock impales my tight hole, drilling my prostate with each thrusts of yours. Your yellow power is not just around my manhood but also speared inside my body. I am not stupid, I know this means a serious threat to me and to increase my fears my cock begins to leak under your palm as my balls are chruning, ready to release my own load, weaking me importantly. I struggle, try to push you away but all my attempts are futile. My body arches as I feel my balls rise in my tightening sack. My cry takes on new tones as I erupt into your palm like an ancient purple volcano somewhere in the land of dragons. "This is not over!", I scream emptying my precious seed into your hand.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

My lips form a tight smile as I watch your orgasm. Covering my fingers, my arm with your seeds. “What a good boy you are, ready to be milked dry” My fist SQUEEEZES your cock as hard as I can, like I wanna crush it as I keep pounding your ass. My cock is getting harder and harder, making me twitch as my gold laced precum starts to spread in your ass. I fight the urge to cum and just keep pounding you, my experience even in fucking showing as I thrust in and out, devastating your prostate as I moan and twitch. My body faintly glowing as I start to sweat, highlighting every muscle of mine as sweat starts to drop onto your face. I look at your cum then taste it with my fingers. “Sour” I announce then keep thrusting you harder and harder, feeling your insides start to give in and collapse.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

You shut my cum vein squeezing it tightly as you keep on destroying my prostate with your deep, demanding thrusts. Your golden powers are flowing into my inner sides, invading me slowly, making me collapse inside. Then you ease your hold of my shaft releasing my cum vein, only allowing me to shoot another load of my demigod powers that hit the soil on my feet. My body shaking around your huge cock as I feel the deposit of my cum tanks reducing, shooting my precious loads out of them. My hands are seeking for my pockets, finding that curved dagger with a poisoned tip as I try to sink it into your thick thigh.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

I let out another moan as I see you grab into your pocket and I instantly know I must be careful when I see the dagger. The strike skims past where my leg had been a breath before. I trap your wrist mid-motion, my grip snapping shut like a vise. You try to force the blade forward, but my muscles lock, veins standing thick along my forearm as I halt him cold. “No,” I say through clenched teeth. I twist sharply. Bone cracks. Your fingers break. The dagger falls—but I am faster. I catch it in my free hand before it hits the ground. Without saying more I thrust into again and ROOOOAR out loud as my load erupts. Rope after rope of my seed start filling your inside with my massive load that starts to burn you. I just grin as I keep my cock inside you for a little bit longer, squeezing your cock again as hard as I can then move my cock out and replace it with your dagger. Inch by inch I force it in deeper until I feel it reaches your prostate. I play with it for a moment, then when my green eyes focus yours I THRUST it all the way in, impaling your joynut!

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

My mouth drops open as I feel the poisoned dagger impaling my prostate, slicing my joynut making my body convulse by the opposite sensations. My jewels churn and rise in my bruised sack close to my body sending a massive load of divine seed into my cum vein. Your tight grip of my throbbing cock how ever is preventing the precious cum to get out of my cock accummulating pressure in to my conducts and cock. The poison in the dagger keeps on obligating my testicles to produce more and more cum, until there is nothing left in them. The spell and the poison in the dagger was planned to force gods to dry their nuts, weaken their powers before killing them for good. I punch my elbow into your ribs several times until your grip of my expanded cock loosens allowing my cock to erupt all my cum out of it. You twist the dagger once more making my man jewels to send yet another load of seed out onto the ground. 26 ropes later my balls are dry, just air is coming out of it.

HYLLUS THE SPARTAN:

A grim smile is forming on my face as I watch your cock onloading rope after rope of your muscle seeds. Even tough my grip around your cock is lose every once in a while, I give it a jerk and twitch, making sure to drain your load and your powers bit by bit until there is only air left. “You are pathetic! The only thing you could ever achieve is to steal the power of others; nothing was ever of your own!” My voice is stern and steady, full of disgust at you as I rip your prostate apart then force the dagger out of your tight hole. Without hesitation I grab your ball sack and pull it down, then use your own dagger to cut then from your body! I watch as the blood runs down and show you your shrinkeled and bloody balls. “This is your end! I will gift them to Bjarg then burn them for you and your powers getting destroyed” I then stand up and watch as your body reacts and spams, then starts to folder. As a last gift I thrust the dagger into your hard as I watch you disappear.

DARFOS BAZOORCA:

Bloody air bubbles burst out of my throbbing cock as you cut off my dried balls with a dagger. All hope is lost with the loss of my balls. Your final blow pierces my heart and it's all over. My body convulses and twists on the ground for a moment, a deep groan escapes my mouth until I finally evaporate into dark smoke, disappearing from the earth and moving into the void. My last thought are the names, Lobo...Al Ghratos they can bring me back from oblivion.

Published: 2025-12-29, viewed 101 times.