The Prisoner of Asgard

Grunting and squirming in obvious resistance as these soldiers held her against her will and boxed her in so she couldn't escape, the lovely Megara struggled to get away from this army who had invaded Greece and captured her.  Unfortunately, Megara's captors were insistent on not letting her get away as she was insistent on refusing to accept her helplessness.

The shackles that bound her hands behind her back exacerbated the situation even further, because the harder she squirmed and struggled, the deeper their cold metal grip bit into her wrists.  She didn't know which grip was worse: the grip on her arms from the soldiers restraining her, or the cold metal grip of the shackles binding her.  Either way, she was trapped with no way out.

The soldiers stopped in front of a throne where, it seemed, no one was seated.  Megara grunted and squirmed harder as she ordered, "Release me, you no-good pompous losers!  I am NOT someone's prize!  DO YOU HEAR ME?!  I SAID LET ME GO!"  But just then, lightning flashed inside the room, and a figure appeared seated on the throne.

While Megara continued to squirm and grunt in resistance, she kept her eyes fixed on this newcomer.  It was a blond man, seemingly with stubble surrounding his chin and mouth.  He wore a gold tunic with blue accents and silver slippers.  As Megara focused more, she discovered that he wore a ring accented by a blue sapphire that glowed eerily.

As this new man spoke, his voice echoed as though he were empowered by Zeus himself.  "Welcome, Grecian stranger.  You grace me with your beauty.  I approve."

Glaring at the blond man before her, Megara fired back with, "Megara, Mate of the Great Hero Hercules, does NOT approve!"  And with a scream of effort, she tugged her arms against the soldiers' grip, hoping to pull herself out, but to no avail.  And she was beginning to show signs of her limits, because her breathing started to grow labored as she struggled to stay on her feet.

"You speak with a bold tongue, Mate of the Great Hero," the new man stated with a smirk.  "I will take great pleasure in my attempts to silence it.  And once your spirit is broken, you will be begging to be my... love slave."

"Forget it, you living Christmas tree ornament!" Megara promised.  "No bad-bleach-job piece of scum will ever take ME as their love slave!"  And with another scream of effort, she tugged her arms against her captors' iron grip again.  But no matter how hard she squirmed and struggled, their grip held firm, like a vice.  And after all that unrewarded effort to try to escape, she began to feel her knees buckle as her breathing became more and more labored.

"Have your struggles weakened you, sweet Megara?" the blond man mocked her.  "Do you require physical support?"

As she gasped desperately for breath, Megara said nothing as she glared at him.  And then, as she watched in amazement, he rose from his throne and seemed to glide like a leaf toward the girl.

"I asked you a question," the blond man insisted. 

"Why waste my breath answering?" Megara demanded weakly as she felt his palm caress her cheek gently.  "You'd only attempt to put me in my place, and even harder."

"Good.  You are learning already.  This is just the beginning," the unnamed man praised his prisoner as he turned and chuckled quietly.  But a second later, he whirled around and, revealing his fist to be crackling with electricity, slammed poor Megara in the stomach, causing her to groan in pain and fall completely onto her knees as a crack of thunder rumbled throughout the room.  But the aftereffect was much worse.

What did he do to me? she wondered as she struggled to breathe.  I can't feel a thing!  My whole body is numb!  That was when her eyes widened as she realized, He's paralyzed me somehow!  I can't even struggle!  On this, she remembered the electricity that jolted her at the same time she felt the punch, and the loud thunder.  Besides Zeus, she told herself, there's only one God of legend who can harness thunderclapped punches.

With pained grunts of effort, the helpless Grecian beauty found some strength from an unknown source to push through her paralysis and get back up onto her feet, uttering in a pained groan, "You're Thor!  And now I know you hit girls!"

On this, he smiled contemptuously and caressed her cheek again, causing poor Megara's heart to freeze as she realized the truth.  These men who served Thor were the Soldiers of Thunder.  They were endowed with godlike strength, which explained why she couldn't escape, for she was a mere and powerless mortal.

Thor glided back onto his throne as effortlessly as he stood up from it earlier.  "Soldiers!" he shouted.  "Take the Mate of the Great Hero to the tower and put her on the rack!  We will see how she fares against unbearable pain.  And if she manages to survive that... I have other ways of breaking her."

Despite her fatigue and paralysis, Megara drew more strength from that same unknown source, and as the soldiers holding her guided her out of the main hall, she renewed her efforts and began squirming anew against their vicelike grip, grunting in effort while screaming her final audible words.

"You're delusional, Thor!  I'LL NEVER BE YOUR LOVE SLAVE!"

Megara had never felt such fear or powerlessness as the Soldiers of Thunder guided her through the spacious hall.  She had given up struggling to get away about an hour ago and decided, I am not giving Thor the satisfaction of knowing I'm helpless. I will fight his torture to the very end, even if it means I enter his Valhalla.

She felt her teeth clench when she saw the room ahead of her.  It was full of medieval torture devices that she'd only read about as a student in Prometheus Academy.  She recognized many of them.

The Rack, she noted as she stared at the makeshift table with belt restraints and a turning wheel.  Her eyes scanned the area more and came across a gauntlet of metal nails. Her heart started racing as she realized, The Breast Ripper.

When her eyes shifted to the right, she noticed two apparatuses: A spiked hoop seemingly folded in half by a set of hinges, and a triangular pedestal with weights at the base.  The Scavenger's Daughter, she realized, feeling her composure begin to crumble.  The Spanish Donkey.

But it was the device on the shelf that broke her completely.  It looked like a metal pear with a small crank at the top.  The Pear of Anguish!  Upon seeing the torture device meant for females, poor Megara began to cry desperately, her shoulders heaving.  Now she was traumatized, and everyone knew so.  But she didn't care.  She did not wish to undergo any of these procedures, especially not the Pear of Anguish.

But then, lightning flashed and thunder rolled inside the Tower of Torture.  Thor had appeared before Megara and noticed that the once proud Grecian beauty was weeping openly, like a lost little girl.

"So, it seems the thought of being tortured has broken her," Thor told Megara's captors.  "Nevertheless, her spirit has not been crushed.  Soldiers!  Subject her to the Pear of Anguish!"

Megara's cries froze in her throat as she looked up with a jerk.  Not the Pear! she pleaded in her mind. PLEASE, ANYTHING BUT THE PEAR!

But as she feared, the soldiers led her to a pair of iron shackles bolted to the wall. Unlocking her from the shackles binding her wrists, the soldiers spread her arms above her head, near each of the iron cuffs.  Megara winced in pain as she heard the cuffs close around her wrists, first the left, and then the right.

Then, one soldier reached for the metal pear, while another soldier raised the skirt of her dress.  Megara made no move to struggle against her chains, as she was thinking in her mind, It'll start soon.  Just keep your eyes closed, and it won't feel like it hurts that much.

"Begin the torture on my mark," Thor instructed, taking one more look at poor Megara's flawless figure.

Meanwhile, Megara was thinking, Don't drag this out! Just get it over with!

"One!"

Megara felt her heart racing at a million miles a minute.  The torture was about to begin, and she had lost all hope of escape or rescue.

"Two!"

This is it, Megara told herself as she grit her teeth and braced herself.  My last day as a faithful Mate to the Great Hero.

"Three!"

The word "Mark" would be coming soon.  Megara shut her eyes in anticipation of the blow that would end her virginity.  On this, she sobbed, "I love you, Wonderboy.  Please forgive me!"

But then, a loud booming noise rocked the foundation around the tower, followed by a crashing noise through the wall, knocking out Thor and most of the Soldiers of Thunder.  Megara wondered what the commotion was all about, and then she saw... him.  The blond, muscular man she had met and fallen in love with.  The demigod who owned her heart.

"Hercules!" she cried with joy and relief.  "Wonderboy, thank Olympus you're here!"

"Sorry I'm late," Hercules apologized as he approached his wife and broke her chains effortlessly.  "I needed to rebuild the high school before I came home and found you missing.  You're trembling.  Are you OK?"

Megara threw herself into Hercules' arms and replied, "I am now, thanks to you."  Her shoulders heaved with happy sobs as she held him close, never wanting to let go.

Hercules returned the hug, and then surveyed the mess, deciding, "Uh, maybe we'd better go.  I've had enough Henry VIII in Asgard for one day."

"Yeah, me too," Megara agreed.  "Where's Horse Feathers?"

"Pegasus?" Hercules realized.  "Don't worry.  I've got him patrolling the city for any obstacles in our way.  Come on, let's get you outta here.  You look like you could use a rest."

"Oh, yes, Wonderboy," Megara responded gratefully.  "Take me home.  I never want to see this awful place again.  And, Hercules?"

"Yes?" Hercules prompted.

"Carry me?" Megara proposed.

On this, Hercules smiled warmly and replied, "Sure."  And then, he reached under the traumatized girl's legs, scooping her up in his arms.  Megara sighed contentedly as she rested her head on her husband's chest, and he carried her out of the tower and away from Asgard Castle.

(Photo created using AI by DarkFoxAI, story written by me)