Dungeons and Dragons Roleplay Outing - Part 4

Three or four times a year the D&D clubs in the city set out to enjoy a weekend
roleplaying in the country. This will be their last outing.
We watch as everything goes terribly awry!

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After the early morning rainstorm drenched the countryside,
the well watered woodland was to become the stage for
The Terror After the Rain
__________________________________________________Remember: Click on any image for full size view.__________________________________________________Shane followed the overgrown road through the woods toward the old cabin that he had seen when he and left Nick and Tom to explore the area farther down in the woods.
"Nick, you in there?" - No answer. "Tom?"
"Nick?" he called more loudly. The call echoed back from the woods and left an eerie silence at it's end, almost as if the woods were anticipating a reply, and not getting one.
"Where the hell did they go?" he muttered, annoyed at the inconsiderate treatment he was getting from them. "They better have a good reason for this." he grumbled, remembering that they had agreed to meet in or near this old shed before continuing on.

Stepping through the doorway, he spotted an old wooden box on the floor. Peeling off his helmet, backpack, armor and and his cape, he laid them on the box, taking the opportunity to get out of the hot sun and cool off a bit. Using his tee shirt to wipe the sweat from his hairy chest and abs, he brushed some dirt from the window sill and draped the shirt there to dry a bit. All that armor and gear looked cool but it felt hot, especially as the moisture form the morning rain added to the humidity in the hot summer air. Stripped to his shorts, he felt much better as he stood in the doorway looking out into the woods, looking for other members of the D&D party.

Grabbing his cell phone he flipped it open and looked at the signal... no bars.
"Shit!" he muttered, slamming the phone shut. "No sense waiting here."
Turning to the box he started picking up his costume but noticed something on the floor in the doorway to the next room. It was Nick's sandal.
"What the hell?" he said, reaching for the sandal. As he bent down he could see into the small room.
"Nick? Tom? Oh god no! Rick and Marty too?"
In the room that once was a bathroom, Shane spotted a gruesome heap of death. In the small space that had once held the bathtub were 4 bodies piled on top of each other in a tangled heap. It was obvious that they were thrown in here to get them out of sight of the other D&D players but anyone searching this shack were sure to find them.

"Oh shit..." They were probably watching for anyone coming in and were likely to be ready to add him to the pile. A deep panic filled his being. The soft snap of a twig outside grabbed his attention. He could see someone he did not know approaching the building wearing jeans and boots, a quiver of arrows and carrying a bow. Shane carefully headed for the door on the other side of the building, stepping as quietly as he could manage.

Once outside, Shane started running flat out, toward the field where they had parked. He didn't dare look back to see how close his chaser was but the sound of the footsteps gave him all the incentive he needed to keep running. Figuring that he could drive to somewhere that his cell would work but suddenly realized that his keys were in his backpack!

It didn't matter much anyways because the first arrow to strike slammed into his back with enough force to poke the arrowhead out from below his ribs. The pain caused him to arch his back and stagger to his knees. Shane started to get back to his feet but the second arrow plunged deep in through his back and into his pounding heart. He jerked upright with the pain but only stiffened like a grotesque statue for a moment before falling face first into the dirt.
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Tory was lost. He had a hand drawn map but it didn't help very much. The map was in a "treasure chest" that he had found earlier and it was supposed to lead to a cache of weapons and gold but he couldn't identify any of the landmarks on it. Now he had wandered back into more familiar territory. He remembered this swamp very well. He had filled his boots with water and mud as he crossed the stream on the way out and he was about to wade across in the opposite direction. The water was surprisingly cold earlier and he was really ready for it this time. He pulled his sweatshirt and cap out and slipped them on. The cold water would soak them down and cool him off as the water evaporated out. By the time he reached the meeting barn, he should be cool and mostly dry.

Stepping into the stream he stood in the welcome cold, letting the water soak through all layers of his clothing. He dunked under and soaked his cap and hair. Moving on, he found himself getting mired in the thick, smelly mud along the bank where he was trying to climb out. The slippery muck coated his jeans and boots with the gray-brown ooze. Rubbing it from his jeans he found himself getting aroused with the slippery goo. He liked the way it felt on his jeans, making an almost airtight seal and conforming to every curve and contour of his muscular body and bulging crotch... and he loved the sensation as he rubbed his crotch with the thick mud.
Gathering up a handful of fresh mud, he opened his fly and smeared the slippery mud all over his cock and balls and re buttoned his jeans. Lubed with the dark mud he slid his hand over his shaft, slipping it from side to side and massaging his balls until he moaned loudly as his load readied to erupt.

"Looks like you're having Waaaayyyy to much fun there."

"Huh??!" Tory looked up nervously, embarrassed at being caught masturbating in the mud.
He looked in time to see a stranger standing on the bank, smiling at Tory's predicament. He was tall, muscular and handsome. He was wearing snug Levis, harness boots and a tee shirt that was just stuffed into his hip pocket for the moment. He had a quiver of arrows and a bow which was slung across his back with the quiver strap and bowstring string across his chest. His well muscled chest and ripped abs were hard to avoid looking at with admiration and envy, and his bulging arms just begged to be rubbed as the glistening sweat streamed down his tanned skin in the hot, humid sunshine.
"Having a good time?" He asked with his wide, friendly looking smile.
"Actually it was getting pretty good there," he admitted with obvious embarrassment.
"I was getting all boned up myself, just watching you." He offered. "Go ahead and finish if you want to, I'm too horny already, mind if I watch?"
Looking at the stranger's handsome face and hot. muscled body, he answered, "Only if you don't mind me watching you."
"Fair enough." He answered, opening his jeans. His already stiff cock sprang to attention like a long, thick, fishing pole.
"My name's Sam, what's yours?""
"I'm Tory... You've got a damn hot body there, Sam, if you don't mind me saying. Nice cock too. Wouldn't mind getting a closer look sometime...?" Tory started rubbing himself again, regaining the momentum lost by being startled by Sam.
"This mud feels sooooo good. You should try it."
"Maybe later." Sam answered.
"I was almost there already, I can't hold out too much longer."
"You decide when your end comes, Tory. If you shoot first I'll just finish up after you're done. Just try to hold out as long as you can."
Tory stared with utter lust at Sam's hardware. It was easy to get excited over a tool like that, and he was all worked up over the feel of the slick mud already.
Sam smiled and stroked himself with long steady strokes as it became clear that Tory was about to explode.
Tory stopped pumping and closed his eyes, holding off the big moment as long as he could hold it. Holding his breath, the pent up energy intensified until he had to gasp for air. His hot load erupted in his jeans mixing it's slick manlube with the cool mud in an ecstatic release like he had not felt in a long time. He looked at his jeans and could see the milky white fluid seeping through the cloth at the end of his spent cock.
"Wow! Sorry," Tory panted, "I couldn't hold it any longer. I thought I was going to explode!"
Tory looked up at Sam but recoiled with shock at what he saw. Sam was standing with his full, hard erection standing out of his unbuttoned jeans and a fully drawn bow aimed directly at Tory's chest.
"Crap! I didn't think we were playing yet." Tory responded, raising his hands in surrender." You got me fair and square."
Tell you what... You let me keep half my treasures and I'll help you finish that little 'problem' you have there..." Tory smiled, pointing to Sam's stiff cock.
"Sorry, not interested." Sam replied, sighting down the arrow. "I told you that you would decide when your end came."
"OK then, I'm a level 4 Paladin and I am casting a 'Divine Shield' spell. It gives me a +60 deflection bonus against all attacks." Tory smiled at the quick turn around in the battle and started to wade toward Sam.
"Hmmmm. Not bad. Let's see if it works." Sam smiled as he let the arrow fly.

"Uhhh." Tory gasped as the arrow ripped through his heart. He clutched his chest but fell almost immediately into the cold mud.
"Guess it didn't work." Sam said as he resumed pumping his rock hard shaft. Sam watched the arrow move with Tory's gasping, dying breaths and stroked himself to climax just as Tory took one last deep gasp of air and relaxed in the arms of death. Sam moaned loudly as his semen erupted in a powerful arc into the muddy water just inches from the now still figure on his back in the mud.

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Tad had been watching from the barn loft as David busied himself getting things set up for the afternoon meeting. He brought in several folding tables, set them up and covered them with plastic tablecloths, arranged several kinds of treasure chests, swords, daggers, bows and arrows and pieces of armor. The prizes were to be rewarded for the "treasures" found by the players during the morning's play. Lunch was on the way and soon the players would be filing in - he hoped.
Already several people that were supposed to help were late and he was getting anxious. Devin and Darrin, Greg, and Myles were all supposed to get here early to help set up. "Where the hell is everybody?" he muttered.
"Hurry up! We've only got an hour to get ready!" he yelled.
Tad stood up in the loft.
"Can I help?" he asked, taking aim.
"I'll take all the help I can get at this point." David said, peering into the relative darkness over head.
"Here it comes." Tad said, letting the shaft fly.

A look of confusion flashed across David's face as the shaft found it's target. Grabbing at the offending projectile, he looked into the dimly lit loft trying to make sense of what was happening, but his senses were already fading. His expression wilted as he fell back across the table and lay there like some medieval sacrifice on an altar.

"Ooh hot!" Tad hooted as he stared down at the still figure, "Look at that cock bulge!"

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Sam followed the lone "warrior" through the woods as he searched for a missing friend.
"Jaaa--son!" "Jason, can you hear me?"
Occasionally, the roleplayer would swing his sword at some weed or sapling as if it were an enemy orc or maybe some dark elf that just needed to be killed.
Sam could see that the guy was mostly pissed, figuring that his friends were hiding on him.
"This could be fun." Sam thought, taking aim.
"Yeaaaahh!" the player screamed as the arrow lodged in his thigh. "Owww! Help, I've been shot." He fell in the wet grass.
He saw Sam standing a few yards back. "You stupid fuck! You shot me!" he screamed at Sam.
"I know." Sam replied, taking aim again.
"Noooo! Help!" he cried as he tried running away. Hobbling badly, he sloshed his way out into the mud.
"Uhhh! Nooo! Please don't!" He pled. The second arrow pierced his shoulder and ripped out his chest. "Ooh, please stop."
"Hold still." Sam ordered, taking aim again.
"Nooooooo!!!! Unh!" he grunted as the arrow struck him in the ribs. "Unh! No, please...."



His voice trailed off as he stopped struggling. He looked at Sam, waiting to see what he was going to do.
"Sorry guy," Sam said.
"I'm out of arrows."
Sam walked out toward him. The warrior took a swing at him with his sword but the smooth, rounded blade presented little threat. Sam swatted the weapon out of his hand and grasped the arrow in his side.
"Hold still, this is going to hurt like hell!" he warned.
Pulling the arrow from his side, Sam pushed the point back into the wound. The wounded warrior gasped with pain.
"No, please, no." he whispered.
"Why the hell not?" Sam asked as he drove the arrow back in at an angle that took it up through the young man's heart.
A shocked expression flashed across his face and almost immediately faded into an open mouthed death mask.
"There, that wasn't too bad was it?" Sam said wiping his hands off on the dead man's shorts, taking the time to feel the manflesh in the mound of his crotch.
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Jimmy knocked at the door a little more forcefully. "Dean, Vinnie, you in there?"
"They're probably out back somewhere." Chris suggested. "You go on in and get things started and I'll find them and bring them in. Get cooking."
Ready for an afternoon of food, beer, NASCAR and some hot fun in bed later on, they were thinking only of making their part of the day's plans as perfect as they could.
Jimmy turned the doorknob and it obligingly opened. They carried the bags of steaks, beer and goodies in and Chris hopped down the steps and headed around the side of the house toward the back. Checking the yard and finding no one in sight, Chris headed toward the barn and straight to Vinnie's workshop.
As he entered he found Vinnie, face down on the floor with four evenly spaced bloody holes in his back and a muddy footprint where someone had stepped down on him to remove the pitchfork that had killed him. His own heart pounding, Chris checked for a pulse and found none. Stepping quietly now, fearing that the killer might still be nearby, Chris headed through the barn toward the other buildings. "Where are the others?"

At the back door, another horror waited as he spotted Jim's handsome, muscular body, face down in the flooded ditch. Running quickly to the water, he knelt down in the muddy trench, reached under Jim's once powerful shoulders and raised him up a little but rigor mortis was already starting to set in to his friend's body.

"Jimmy! Oh God Jimmy, Help!" "Grab your gun, hurry!" "They're dead! They're both dead!"

"Aaaghhh!"

Clutching at his gut he reeled with pain as he pulled on the shaft of an arrow embedded in his abs and tried to stanch the flow of blood from the broadhead wound. Looking up, he saw the archer, muscular and handsome, smiling at him with his weapon fully drawn, aimed straight at his head.
"Noooo! Please, nooo! Jimmy! Help!"
An instant later the second arrow split Chris' forehead just above his left eye and erupted from the back of his skull which stopped all pain in a brilliant flash of light and stilled is cries for help. His body, suddenly rigid, toppled over backwards onto his friend's legs in the storm swollen trench.

Taking only a moment to admire his latest kill, Tad turned his attention to the barn. He had seen Sam coming over the hill a few minutes ago before this guy came out of the house shouting people's names, but now there was at least one more and this last guy had been really loud. He hurried toward the barn to get out of sight.

Too late!

"Freeze! Drop your weapon - including those arrows." - "Hands on your head!" - "Turn around, real slow..."
Complying with the growled orders and turning he saw one beautiful specimen of manhood standing with his gun pointed at him, slightly crouched and looking very serious. Tall, handsome and tanned, he showed a fierce power with his tattooed muscular arms tensely bulging out from his sleeveless shirt and his powerful looking hairy legs with well placed tattoo accents. He could feel his manhood reacting despite the obvious danger to his own life.
"Who are you?" Tad asked.
"Deputy James Owen, Scott county Sheriff's office." he shouted. "Do not move, or I WILL shoot."
"Hey, this is me, not moving." Tad answered. "What's this all about?"
"You shut up, I'll ask the questions. Where's Chris?" Jimmy barked.
"Who's Chris?" Tad asked. "I don't know any Chris."
"I heard him calling for help. He was back here somewhere." Jim answered, waving his pistol in the air while still keeping a bead on Tad's chest.
To his relief, Tad saw Sam sneaking up behind Jim carrying a giant pickaxe! All Tad had to do was keep this cop's attention on him, rather than anything behind him.
"How can that be? I have been here for hours, I didn't hear anything, much less anyone calling for help."
"You're a liar!" Jim snarled. "I should shoot you right here. Where's Chris, Dammit?"
Tad took a step toward Jim."I told you I don't know!"
"One more step and you're dead!" Jim snarled, clicking the safety off.
"Whoa there soldier," Tad said, raising his hands in the air. "I'm cool, you've got the gun here."
"Get those hands back on your head, fingers interlaced and don't move!"
Sam started his swing with the heavy pickaxe like a heavy baseball bat. Tad couldn't help cringing as the heavy weapon whirled in a deadly arc. Jim saw the reaction but before he could turn, the pick found it's target.
*Thudd"Uhhh"*Bam*
Jim's eyes widened and his mouth opened to scream but the force of the swing, and the impact of the handle against his back silenced the cry before it could escape.
Tad watched as the pick erupted from Jim's chest and the sudden lurch forward as the pick went as deep as possible and bottomed out against his shoulders. The erupting pick point exploded out through Jim's muscular chest and a bloody shower splattered against Tad's face and chest. Jim's body stiffened and he fell face first to the ground with his gun still clutched in his right hand - smoking.
Sam raised his hands over his head and danced around jubilantly, celebrating the victory and saving his friend from possible death.
"Wooo hooo!" he yelled. "Look at that! That was awesome!"
A curious chill rippled through Tad's body. He tasted the blood that had splattered over him from the gaping hole in Jim's chest, but he felt curiously weak and shaky. He felt something warm running down his chest and over his abs. Looking down, he was horrified to see a small hole in his chest that spurted a small stream of blood with each beat of his heart.

"Oh damn!" he said. "Sam, I've been shot."
"Huh?!" Sam looked up at his friend. "Where?"
"Here." Tad said, nodding toward his chest. The 9 mm hole rhythmically draining his life's energy away.
"Shit! I don't want to die like this... "
"Hey man, it's not so bad, I'm here. I can help." Sam said, helping Tad to sit on the ground. "Lay back and try to relax."
Sam started unbuckling Tad's belt and unsnapping his jeans, gently rubbing his smooth sides as he slipped the zipper down and gently scooped Tad's stiff member out of his shorts. The plump shaft stood tall as Sam's lips enclosed it and Tad shuddered with pleasure as the pain of the wound in his chest grew more intense.
Tad gasped with ecstatic pleasure both at the loving caress of Sam's hands and the unexpected pleasure of dying as his best friend attended to his last sexual gratification. His nerves escalated into a state of sensitivity like he had never experienced, his breath roared from his throat in deep throaty growls and he strained to keep his sanity as every cell in his body prepared to participate in one jubilant orgasm.
"Aaaaagh!" he screamed, "Ooh, unh, aah." His whole being tingled with an exquisite exhaustion. Gasping for breath he grabbed Sam's arm.
"Don't leave me here to die. Get his gun. One bullet right here." He pointed to his chest just a couple of inches to the left of the bleeding hole.
"Are you sure?" Sam said, picking up the gun.
"Oh god, yes. I don't want to just die a slow death here."
Sam pointed the gun at his friends chest, knelt down beside him picked Tad's hand and placed it on his own crotch. Tad smiled as he felt the hard mass.
"That for me?" he quipped.
"Absolutely." Sam answered. "You stroke me off and I'll finish you as I shoot my wad in your hand. I'm almost there already."
Sam opened his fly and let his stiff cock drop into Tad's waiting hand. Tad started stroking then started tugging on Sam's shaft.
"Come here." Tad motioned him toward his mouth. "I want to do this right."
Sam groaned as his dying friend rhythmically stroked and sucked and massaged.
Suddenly Sam could feel the ecstatic eruption building to the point of no return. Trying to hold on, he started shaking violently.
"Uhhhhh!" he groaned as hot fluid shot into Tad's waiting mouth. Tad started sucking all the harder, swallowing the gobs of semen like it was his last meal.
Sam arched his back, shoving his manhood deep into Tad's throat. Tad moaned as he held his breath.
*Bam*
The single shot rang out. Tad jerked, slamming his forehead into Sam's pelvis and falling back to lay face up in the grass.
Sam bent down and kissed his friend goodbye one last time.
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D&D Roleplay Outing Part 1
D&D Roleplay Outing Part 2
D&D Roleplay Outing Part 3

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