Chapter 1: Morning
Ursus stretched his enormous arms above his head, revealing the dark gold pit hair usually hidden underneath. He yawned from the pit of his belly, and brought his arms to his sides again. The morning was incredible, the late July sun already warm on the near naked golden flesh that covered the muscle giants 22 year old body. Scratching his abdomen muscles absently, he looked out to the pale blue of the tyrolean sea that was visible on the shoreline below. His muscles were stiff from the crude bed he had fashioned out of tree foliage – he had slept outdoors under the summer night sky – and he suddenly felt the need for food
Ursus was quite literally the son of a God – born from the seed of Hercules himself, and yet the son of the legend was even more magnificent than his father. The man was huge – well over six and a half feet – massive hands that could crush bones in their grip – feet that were destined to support such a huge frame needed to be thick and enormous. His Legs that were the size of small trees – the thigh muscle long and defined as it stretched towards the red loincloth round his waist. Dark blond hair covered his calves and thighs. The chest was massive – broad and hugely muscled, abdominals that were so defined they defied description – the pecs hanging like slabs of marble – when the man moved they almost seemed to bounce with the motion. His nipples were large and peaked, brown from the constant sun with wide aureoles supporting each nub. A light dusting of hair could be seen snaking its way from the belt of his cloth – gradually fanning out across the mounds of his chest and encircling each of the gods man tits. His face was strikingly handsome – blue eyes in a face broad and square jawed – beard covered his cheeks but it did not mar his beauty – just added to his manly virility. His lips were wide and sensual, his nose strong and noble.
Ursus wore nothing but a red cloth that covered his waist and sex – the outline of his cock was visible to the naked eye from twenty metres away, for this young man was truly well endowed. A dagger hung in its scabbard at his side, and the only ornament he wore elsewhere were two gold bands encircling each massive bicep that even when at rest were the size of a melon.
He studied the vista before him. Ursus had been summoned by the Prince of Vulcano, a small volcanic island to the north of Sicily in southern Italy.. He had been sent a messenger who had pleaded for help. Many years ago, Hercules had promised to repay a favour if it was ever needed to Prince Marcus- a promise hat he had never needed to fulfill till now. With his father’s death, the legacy had fallen on Ursus’s massive shoulders, and he had set sail from Napoli immediately.
The messenger had told of a tribe – a tribe of warriors who had invaded Vulcano and were threatening to destroy Prince Marcus’s small state – a state under the legate of Rome itself- the old Prince had begged the hero Ursus to help and Ursus vowed to deliver. Arriving on Vulcano the eve before, he had found the citadel of Vulcano deserted – the Palace looted and the city ransacked – there was not a soul in sight and the entire place felt like a town of ghosts. Late last night, after a fruitless search of the island, he had made his way back to the shore to wait for his ship to return, bedding down on a small cliff overlooking the sea. As he scanned the horizon now, he could see no sign of it ahead on the still water below the cliff that he was stood on. Ursus decided to explore the island inland further for food and fresh water, or even wine if he was lucky!
He wore sandals laced around each golden bulging calf, and as he moved away from the shoreline, he felt concern for the safety of his crew and his boat, the Venus. It had been due to rendezvous with him this morn. Where was it?
He walked on, the heat of the day building and sweat beginning to gather in the deep cleft of his pectoral muslce. He idly wiped himself and felt the damp hair on his pecs – he needed water – food. He was starving. He also needed a piss. He was hard. He fumbled with his peplum cloth and found the thong underneath that held his cock. He had to wear a thong as he had a low hanging sac that contained his huge balls – balls the size of oranges. His cock was long too – long and thick with a huge head, and as he aimed his piss out in front of him, a steady stream was released from his semi hard dick. He pissed for a while – his bladder full after a night of rest, and when finished he tucked himself away once more. The man had a cock that would not look out of place on a horse – or a bull.
As he moved deeper into the forest, he found himself thinking of this strange island – why was it deserted – why so silent – where was the Prince and his people? As he moved, lost in such thoughts, he suddenly felt a sharp stab of pain in his right pec and looking down he saw a dart embedded there. – he grunted in anger and swatted it off as if it were a fly – another dart flew at him from the thicket of trees that surrounded him in the dense wood. He knocked that away too, but not before he saw a warrior before him – a man dressed in the uniform of the Praetorian Guard. The man was pale skinned and huge – not as big as Ursus – but nonetheless massive. Why was a member of the Roman elite force on Vulcano – this land was considered of little value to Rome – why was this rogue soldier suddenly here? The man wore gold armour plating moulded to his body, and a helmet which hid his face behind the visor – Ursus then saw another before him appear from behind a tree dressed the same – and he clenched his fist ready for battle, feeling the hilt of his dagger warm in his hand. But strangely, he found he could barely summon the strength to take a step forward. It was as if the strength was evaporating from his limbs. His fingers fumbled on the hilt of his sword – he dropped it at the weight of the metal and he heard it hit the parched floor he stood on. He looked ahead as yet another dart flew at him – this time hitting his left tit – fuck, he gasped falling to one knee – he could barely see ahead of him.
His vision began to blur – he tried to shake clear the fog from his head but it was impossible. What was happening to him? He could see a shadow before him – towering above him – the shadow seemed to laugh and then all went black.