...Hercules would take one long, last astonished gaze in the mirrors; then climb, lifting his incomparable body out of the pit, parading it past the ruins of the arena, marching back to his Empire of Worshippers. Conan would remain buried up to his balls and butt in the muck, covered in cum and sweat and mud, twenty-five mirrors reflecting his abject humiliation... After the ground-shaking battle was over, some of the braver stud-warriors in the region would creep back; past the crumbled colosseum and peer into the pit, awestruck that the Bulk-Master could grind a King so mighty down so low! Some with grudges against the Barbarian would have their vengeance now, before his strength returned… Sun would bake the cum and sweat and mud, wind would whip sand in his face! A heartless moon and stars would illuminate his fitful, nightmare dreams; waking would reveal the reality of his defeat… The rumor of his degradation at the hands of the Ultimate Power would spread throughout the lands.

In time, the rains would come, and mud and muck would be washed away. Battered muscles would heal, but not completely; the ache a lasting gift from the God who gave him his only! and ultimate beating! He would painfully pull his smashed body from the mud and slowly crawl to the lip of the pit. He would stagger past the devastation of the arena; broken with his own body as a sledgehammer in King Hercules’ mighty hands! Conan could rage and Conan could rape! But in the eyes of every victim and in his own mind! he would see the awful truth! This was the ex-Champion that Hercules had destroyed so utterly!! The upstart almost as Big as...

...Such were the raging fantasies of Hercules as he raced toward his REVENGE!…