In the Arena - Part 4

In the Arena - Part 4

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__________________________________________________ The Reluctant Victor

The crowd jeered at the fighters, hungry for blood and impatient with the slow pace of the drawn out battle.  Truth was that the fighters were lovers and neither wanted to kill the other. 

The rules were simple, fight to the death.
If any fighters refused to fight, they will be executed.

They had talked all day about the match tonight.  As the matches progressed, they knew that they each had two opponents each before they would be up against each other. Both were excellent fighters and would be an extremely tough team to beat.  Under normal circumstances that team would already be together fighting side-by-side but there was an element of jealousy at play.  Shaw, the arena master found the two fighters especially desirable  and wanted them both for himself.  Saban and Roland had rebuffed his attempts to make them his personal trophies, desiring rather to have each other.  Their rejection of Shaw had brought them to this moment.

They had just received their first, and only warning of the match.  Kill quickly or die slowly.
They had seen what it means to die slowly. The victim would be tied to a stake after which he would have his gut slashed below the navel.  The guard would reach into the wound and grab a handful of guts and pull them outside the body, dropping them to the sandy ground.  Usually the intestines would unravel and spill out around the victim's feet and legs. There was often only a little bleeding and the victim would be left tied there while his insides dried out in the hot sun. Sometimes they would pour honey in the wound to invite ants in to do their work on the still living flesh.

Saban grabbed Roland's blade and placed it against his chest, over his heart.
"Quickly, push.  Push hard!"
"No, I can't." Roland protested.
"You must, or we both die the slow death."

Pulling the blade, Saban stepped toward his love. Grabbing Roland's wrist, he pulled him toward himself, forcing the blade through his body until the hilt jammed against his chest.
Now grabbing Roland's shoulder, he pulled him even closer looking into his deep brown eyes for the last time until their lips met.

---

Victory Shout

Gut stabbed and broken jaw, the wounded warrior crawled to the edge of the arena ready to offer himself to his opponent for the death blow.  His opponent shows no mercy or allows him no dignity as he kicks the dying warrior's arms from under him and ferociously drives the long steel blade through his body, scattering sparks from the stone floor.

The victory shout resounded in the fallen warrior's ears as darkness and silence surrounded him.

---

Fallen Retiarius

Still entangled in his own net, the  young warrior lay silently, waiting to be carried off to be disposed of.

---

Deadly Comeback.

Having been gored by his more muscular opponent we assumed that we would see the unlucky fighter be dispatched by the stronger fighter. As he moved in for the kill however...

Using what strength he had left, the wounded fighter struck the death blow first.

---

Speared

Cooling off in the water he never expected what happened when he closed his eyes.

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Carving through the throat.

The squabble between the two young recruits seemed innocent enough.

Until the blood gushed into the sand.

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Quick Kill

Taking full advantage of the young trainee's inexperience, Martin chose him to be the next object lesson.

He did not suffer long.

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Terror from Behind

The fight raged on, scattering bystanders and destroying tables and chairs as they succumbed to the weight of the two fighters.
Pulling his knife, David drove it into Jack's back.
Turning quickly, Jack tried to fend off his attacker but David got the advantage by wrapping his arms around Jack's throat.

Pulling him tight against his body, David pressed his abs against the knife until it tore out through Jack's chest.  The high pitched scream would be the last thing anyone would ever hear from Jack.

---

Retiarius

The Retiarius stumbled backward having taken a foot to the groin when he attacked the Secutor, jabbing him in the side with his trident. Tangling his feet in his own net he found himself falling to the ground followed by the expert thrust of his opponent's gladus.

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Dying

One of the first to fall to the sword, Paul dropped to his knees and bent over, fighting for every breath while the others fought it out.

As the crowd watched in near silence, Neilus walked up to Paul and spoke softly to him.
"You have fought well, my brother.  Now go to your reward."
Grabbing the sword by the handle, Neilus slowly pulled until the blade came loose and silently slid from the gaping wound followed by a strong stream of dark blood.  Paul shivered as he tried to look up at his brother's face, smiled briefly and fell over to the bloody ground.

---

Murdered

C'mon guy, You're up next." the short guard barked as he opened the door.
"Shit!"
There on the bed, sprawled out, naked, was the powerful body of the reigning champion gladiator.

 His muscled, toned body was relaxed, his spear lay across his body and a knife stood erect in his chest with a small trickle of blood escaping from around the blade.
This champion will retire undefeated - at least not in the arena.

---

Speared

Getting prepared for his turn in the arena, yet another contestant meets with an early demise.

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Thrust Through

The end came quickly for Daniel.As he turned to attack his foe, the fighter grabbed Daniel's left wrist and pulled.  Daniel struggled to escape his grip but quickly felt the tip of the sword in his armpit. One more powerful yank and the sabre quickly carved it's way through and out the other side, both lungs and his heart pierced through.

A momentary struggle was all that he could manage and his head quickly fell limp to the ground and his pain was forever gone.










409036

Family Feud - Part 13

Family Feud - Part 13

Two Mob style families seek revenge on each other as the bodies stack up. Told from the point of view of one of the hired gun "soldiers" involved in the carnage.

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The long wait is over.

A new bloodbath!
Enjoy! 
___________________________________________

Onslaught 2

I stood looking at the inferno still  billowing high above the Lower Westside Neighborhood. Embers shot high into the night sky twisting and spinning in the super heated air, each ember glowing for a time and going dark, never to be seen again.

"Sort of like the lives that were snuffed out in and around that place tonight." I thought, a little sardonically. Knowing that this was no where near the end, I began to prepare myself for the battles ahead. 

"Where you been?" I asked my self-appointed bodyguard. I know the irritation and suspicion was evident in my tone.

"Doing some spying. some lying and a little killing." Jerry smiled at the pause. "I am working on a plan to take out Vito to put an end to this war forever."

"What's the plan?" I asked. "Vito has an army of thugs, paid killers and psychopaths all paid to protect his ass and kill every man in Tony's family and business. - Especially me and anybody attached to me."

"And there's our doorway." Jerry smiled. "Vito is offering 2 million dollars to the man that brings you to him alive so he can kill you himself."

"And I suppose that you are the one that is going to do that for him?" I said. "What's to keep you from double crossing me and letting him kill me and getting the bounty for yourself.?"

"You saved my life for whatever reason when all you had to do was slit my throat or put a bullet in my brain.  I have saved your ass several times over  and you still don't trust me?" he looked at the floor. "I don't know what to tell you except that you can end this if you trust me."

"Everybody tells me that Vito has a plan that will make me willingly walk into his hands.  This sounds like what they are talking about." I pulled my gun out of the holster and made it clear that I was ready for a challenge.

"Put that away.  You know you can trust me.  I know I can trust you."  "I need to make Vito believe that I am betraying you and I need you to play your part convincingly enough to convince him that that is exactly what has happened."

---

Jerry has been there for me many times over but how many men would he be willing to kill to collect a couple of million dollars?

If his past was not wiped clean by someone I might be less worried.  This guy never existed before I first spared his life.  Now he wants me to trust my life to him.

Once again my phone interrupted.

"Carver, where are you?" the voice demanded. It was Hancock.

"We were going over to Grove Street." I answered. "What's up?"

"I'm in the alley one block over from the gym.  I had a man here keeping watch of the people going in and out.  We lost contact with him about an hour ago.  I drove over here and found his body.  Knife in the chest. Split his heart wide open, then just left him there for anybody to find."

"I have his camera.  Maybe he has some stuff we can use on it." Hancock said. "I think we need to clean out this place like we did Vinny's."

"Sounds fine to me." I answered. Hold on, we'll be right over.

We arrived just in time to see our guys load Hancock's man into the van - the knife still embedded in his chest.

"Let me have that knife." I ordered. "I plan on giving it back to it's owner."

Hancock pulled the weapon from the guy's chest, wiped it off a bit and handed it to me.

"We will have a team here in just a few minutes." he said, "Should be enough firepower to clean out the scum in there."

"Hope so." I said as I pulled my bow from the trunk.  "I need this to end." 

I could hear the distinct sound of a motorcycle coming toward us so I signaled everyone back out of sight.  The Yamaha slowed as it pulled up the street, passed us and rounded the turn into the alley behind the gym.

I moved around the buildings between us until I spotted the rider moving toward the loading dock.

I raised my bow and fired.

The arrow struck him in the throat, tearing through his larynx and erupting from his neck just under his helmet.  He jerked and made a short, raspy choking sound as the reflex from severing his spinal chord shot through his body. He wilted into a sitting position against the wall. Probably had no idea what killed him.

Another noise from the back caught my attention. Someone else was back by the motorcycles and heard the noises the other motorcycle rider made as he died.

Again, I raised my bow and fired.

He reached for his chest where the arrow had struck, grabbed the shaft of the arrow and pulled. Grunting with pain, the leather clad victim shuddered and stiffened as he toppled over backwards and lay unmoving on the ground.

I felt a strong hand on the back of my head, pushing me down toward the ground.

"Look out." Jerry yelped fairly loudly. 

I dropped to the ground, trying to see what Jerry was talking about.  He was pointing his gun toward my left. *Peyupp* "Ungh!"

Turning just in time to see a misty red cloud spray from the gunman's temple, I watched as he spun around and landed with a solid thud on the concrete.  The adrenaline rush ripped through my body as I looked for any more targets nearby. I didn't have to look very far as a loud crack from a 9mm echoed off the buildings and sailed past my ear.

*Peuypp* "Ungh!" Thump.

The shooter fell on his back and immediately his partner dove to the concrete using his fallen comrade as a shield.

Jerry fired twice more.  First shot clipped the shooter's left shoulder.  He flattened himself behind his dead partner as Jerry took deadly aim and fired...  The left lens of his sunglasses shattered and his head jerked back. The attacker weakened and fell face down in his partner's armpit with a large hole where his left eye had been.

"Shit, Jerry!" Hancock whispered, "You're damn good."

No time for a victory party - at least not yet.

I listened at the back door.  Nothing. Jerry tapped me on the shoulder and nodded followed by a quick move through the door.

"Yeahh!" the loud yell was followed by a grunt and Jerry bounced back against me as I got in the doorway.

I barely dodged a fist that was aimed at my face but my hand was not empty as I fought back with a strong upward thrust. My blade hit something hard as the expression on the man's face turned from fierce rage to pained horror. He fell backwards to the floor and grasped at the handle of the knife in his chest.

Looking up at my face and back at the knife in his chest, he shuddered with pain with each attempt at breath. Stepping over his heaving body, I reached down and grasped the handle of the knife, sending a shock wave of pain through his body.  A look of horror washed over his face as he began to shake his head pleading for me to leave the knife alone.

He was a good looking hunk, nice full package really hot looking face and as I twisted the blade and yanked it free of his chest, a quick gush of blood erupted from the gash in his chest and he fell limp on the wooden floor, mouth open, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling.

I looked toward the door to the back hallway as some of Hancock's men pushed the door open and hurried through.  I hears a couple of muffled grunts and the sounds of a scuffle breaking through the half open door as I picked my way toward the inside.

I stepped into the narrow hallway and started toward the locker room.  History has taught me that there is usually someone in there...

Sure enough, on the floor near the showers lay a nude body with a knife driven deep between his shoulders. No sign of his killer but since he was showering here, I had to assume that he was from out of town and met his end at the hand of one of Tony's men.

A slowly spreading pool of blood decorated the floor under his chest with a deep stain of warm, fresh blood that will likely remain long after the body has been removed.

I started toward the locker room but another two-man battle burst in through the door and played itself out in front of me. Dale Clark, one of our "clean up" men was being pushed backward as a dark haired opponent pressed in for the kill.  Dale backed into the wall, which abruptly stopped his backward movement even though his attacker kept pressing in.

Suddenly a flash of steel glinted from his back as the pointy end of Clark's weapon emerged from the about-to-be-dead attacker's back.  They stood together motionless at first as the wound gushed and spilled down the unlucky henchman's back. Soon, however, the impaled victim began to sink to the floor and slid off the sharp blade.

Jerry gently pushed me aside as I stood mesmerized by the death scene before me, the shiny steel, the sticky red blood and the periodic twitches of a freshly killed body adjusting to death. 

Not waiting for me - or anybody else, Jerry hurried upstairs, grabbed the first door and pushed it into the room.

Lying on the bed was a nearly naked body.  He immediately jumped to his feet and fired, barely missing Jerry and me both.

 *Peyupp* "Ungh!" Jerry fired, hitting the guy in his tattooed torso, sending him stumbling backward to land sitting on his bed. 

Quickly raising his weapon again he prepared to shoot back.

*Peyupp* "Ah!"

The shooter went limp and toppled back across the bed, bouced briefly and lay still.  He now had a bloody hole where his right eye had been, a shocked, wide eyed expression from his other eye and a sticky, bloody mess of hair, brains and blood leaking from the back of his skull.

"In here, quick!" I heard Clark call as he entered the next room.

 

Tied in a chair with his throat slit almost to his backbone was what was left of David Greer, One of Hancock's  newer men.

"He was gagged when they killed him," I said. "This was an execution.  Either they got what they wanted or just got sick of trying."

"The blood is drying." Jerry observed."  "He's been dead for quite a while."

"Was it Hoyle?" Jerry asked.

"I doubt it." I answered. "Hoyle likes to stab in through the side of the neck, severing the jugular and usually leaves the knife behind as his little gift.  This looks like the work of Mason Polk.

Moving past the blood covered corpse, I readied myself at the next door. Before I could open it, I heard the latch on the door directly across the hall click and an unsuspecting victim moved into striking distance. 

Just as the barefoot wanderer started up the hallway I met him with a sharp blade thrust in under the ribs tearing through his stomach and spleen.

A nice twist of the knife and the stricken man fell against the radiator and slid awkwardly to the floor, blood streaming from his side.  Maybe it was a bit of vengeful anger or maybe just my sadistic lust for blood but I did not finish him off, choosing rather to let him bleed out on the floor.  I'll check back in a while to see how he is doing.

Turning my attention back to the door next to me, I turned the handle and carefully peered inside...
Inside I found a solitary figure sprawled across his bed, apparently sleeping.  I started pulling my knife out of the sheath and the snap around the handle opened with a soft >pop<... Just loud enough to rouse the sleeping beauty on the bed.
He started to sit up from the bed and go for his gun on the nightstand.  The full force of my knife slamming into his chest forced him back down hard on the bed into a death seizure, tightening every muscle, locking him in place until one by one the muscles relaxed in the peace of death.

I stood over him watching the light in his eyes fade until the death mask froze in that bewildered look of one killed before he had time to react.
Checking through his belongings, I determined that he too was from Chicago. "I'll bill the state of Illinois for services rendered when this is all over."  I quipped.
"I might send them a bill of my own." Jerry added. "Seems that t hey sent their sewer rats here to infest our garbage heaps."
"That's Ok." I replied. "I needed the practice."

Another commotion caught our attention in the next room.
"Aaaaahhh!"
Hurrying to the open door I looked inside just in time to see Jamie holding onto a skin-

headed tattooed guy in a black tee with a long, bloody blade poking out through his back as he slid down, clutching at Jamie as if it was the last thing he would ever do.

A grunt in the adjacent room and the sound of a scuffle again dragged me to the door to see if my to see if my help was needed.

It wasn't.

There was what looked like a guy dressed for business that must have arrived late last night, or early this morning lay on top of the bed, still fully dressed.

Stabbed just below the right collar bone, he might have lived had it not been for Sammy's  swift removal of the knife followed by a careful aim over the heart and the swift jam thrusting the blade through the center of his heart.

Air hissed through Sammy fingers along with a throaty groan as the gasped and tried to scream when the knife plunged through his heart. A gurgling last breath bubbled deep in his throat and quickly went silent.

Running up the steps to the third floor, Jerry on my heels, I opened the door on the left and found a freshly made bed and clean towels.  Nobody here yet.

"I got you, you son of a bitch!" Somebody shouted from the dark. Drew ran into the dark room firing into the blackness.  I found the light switch and flipped it on.

The two gunmen suddenly found themselves face to face in the blinding light. Raising their weapons they took quick aim and fired.

Ba-Bang!!

The florescent light flashed to life just as the two recoiled from the double bullets to the heads and toppled over backwards to sprawl out across the floor, dead. Vito's man lay flat, shirtless on the floor, eyes staring at the ceiling, blood seeping from the hole in his forehead and a massive boner in his pants.  Unfortunately our man lay just as flat and just as dead, without the hard-on.
"Look here!"  Hancock called out.

The body in the next room, gagged, seated on a hassock, two bullets in his abdomen, one in his chest and one last one at the hairline. Another killed while gagged.  Were they just getting rid of guys when they are done with or are they doing something else? I wondered about the actual size of that organ in  his pants.  He was obviously well endowed.

Looking in the next room revealed another body.

This one looked like he was killed while his killer was getting him ready for sex. Clothing tossed on the floor, shoes in the corner, nothing left but his briefs and socks. The body was still warm.

Another noise caught my attention.

Jerry and I got to the door just as Mason Polk came out and started to run for his life.  We were both faster than he was.

Soon we had him tied to a bed and started trying to find out what they already knew.

"You murderous little bastard!" I snarled.

"Yes, I suppose I am." Mason snarled.  "You, of all people should know, Carver!"

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked, grabbing him by the shirt. "How many of our men have you killed?"

His face reddened as the shirt collar tightened around his throat.  Breath wheezed in his throat as I held the grip as tight as I could.

Finally I slammed him back down, letting the little asshole have a little more air. I took my knife and held it against his throat.

"What do you know?" I demanded." What did they tell you before you killed them?"

"Go to hell you asshole!" he snarled. "Kill me!  I'm not going to tell you anything. Kill me now and get it over with."

"Not a bad idea." I admitted, softening my tone with him. I pushed the cold steel of the blade up against the throbbing artery near the back of his jaw. "I'll bet this will open things up quite well..." 

Taking my blade, I turned it over and drew it down from his throat, across his chest to his belt.  Mason cringed as the blade tore it's way down his unprotected body but the pain did not come.  I carefully cut the cloth from the chest out the sleeves and he soon found himself shirtless on the bed. Hancock started to pull the cloth out from under his torso while I made a menacing gesture with the blade toward his gut but turned the blade and slipped it under his belt and gave it a quick yank.

The severed belt made it easy to zip the blade down both legs until there was nothing left on him but his black briefs.

I could see that getting stripped like this was really getting him excited.  The underwear was brief alright -  too brief as the head of his dick poked out the bottom and across his thigh.

Hancock climbed up on the bed and knelt at his side.

"Peace offering?" he asked, pulling Mason's dick out and folding the underwear out of the way. The veins were sticking out all around his cock, his balls were dangling and now flopped lazily as Hancock started playing with our captive's dick.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snarled, trying to squirm out of Hancock's grip.

"I'm thinking of cutting this thing off, cooking it and making you eat it.

Mason did not respond.

"Or we could shove it up your ass."

"Or down your throat." I chimed in.

Our taunting did nothing to soften his hard-on and Hancock had already started to stroke him.  I signaled for Michael to speed up his strokes.

"You faggots like that?" he snarled. "Figures. So, you don't like it Carver?"

He laughed at his own joke. I couldn't get the pictures of his victims out of my mind.

"You'll never get any answers from me!" He taunted.

"No," I answered, raising my knife. "I won't!"

"Aieeaah!!" he yelped as I drove the knife deep through his belly button.

407879

Miscellaneous Mayhem - Part 6

Miscellaneous Mayhem - Part 6 
 This is a collection of images of death where the entire story is told with a single image or maybe just a few. No specific theme, no specific weapon.
Hope you enjoy!

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Beach Duel

The battle was not going well. We had been down in the sand, up again, gurgling and spitting saltwater in the surf and we were both getting tired. I had wounded Davis, first a small cut on his forehead then  a good stab under his right arm which slowed him down a bit but then he rammed his blade in my side, setting my insides on fire. He twisted the blade and I had to let out a clenched teeth groan as I struggled against the pain.

A good fist to his mouth stunned him and knocked him off guard just long enough for him to pull his blade back in defense and giving me the adrenaline rush I needed.

Thrusting my blade to the hilt in his unprotected gut I staggered back and waited. He grunted and bent over with the pain. Standing up straight, he looked me in the eyes and grabbed at the handle of my knife and pulled.

Stopping with a sudden change of expression on his face, Davis grabbed at theknife blade in a vain effort to stanch the sudden eruption of blood from around the knife blade.

Holding the blade he looked up into my face again with the unmistakable look of one who knlws that he is about to die. Not saying anything, Davis watched me with his knife ready to strike out at me if I moved toward him. He was standing firm and tall but his shoulders started to hunch over slowly but very definately. His determined and defiant glare turned to a more inquisitive stare as he watched me intently. At the same time the color began to drain from his reddened face and a pallor from his impending death became more pronounced.

Weaving around on his feet, Davis was almost at the end of his final struggle. I waited even though I was starting to weaken from my own wound. 

"Time to end this" I said, startling him with my sudden declaration. 

Grabbing the handle of my knife, still part way in his bleeding gut, I shoved it in again, slamming the hilt into the open wound and slicing his fingers that tightened defensively around the blade.

At last I yanked the blade away and was rewarded with a thick gush of thick, dark blood that emerged from the hole.  His weakened body stiffened, his mouth opened with a silent scream and he toppled over, face first in the sand at my feet.

Bending down over his prone body. Grabbed his hair with my left hand, pulling his head upward and partly lifting his body up from the sand.  One final slash of my blace across his throat, a short gurgling sound and a brief gush of fresh blood later and the battle was finally over. 

Now to get my wounds taken care of...

Rowboat Kill - Put yourself in this story...

More exciting than you could ever have imagined. Having lured George out to the secluded lake for a "fishing" weekend, then getting him out in the boat with the porn mags you shared laughs and jokes about the pics then suggested that he join you skinny dipping. George obligingly peeled of his teeshirt and then his shorts. Sure enough, he had a hard cock hiding there and didn't seem to be too embarrassed to let you see it. You offered him your own stiff member for a blowjob, which he surprisingly took, without question.

Now he was starting to get fidgety, nervous, acting like something was suddenly wrong. Your balls ached, needing to be satisfied, he was perfect but now changing his mind. HELL NO!

The look on his face was priceless as you rammed your knife into his gut. Nowhere to go but into the lake, he tried desperately to fight but you soon had him. He lay there panting as you stroked his quivering body. spreading his blood around on him and on you. Using your bloody hand you stroked his cock hard and firm then sucked him off. His blood was delicious his cum sweet. As he reached orgasm, his fitful breathing stopped.

Finally jacking off with his blood all over your own hand, cock and balls, you realize that something really does transfer from the dying to their killer. Slowly, you pull the knife from his beautiful body, wiping the blood on your arms, legs chest and yes, your cock and balls again. With some sadness you let him slip over the edge of the boat to disappear under the dark surface. You lay for a long time in the late afternoon sun savoring the sensation of the drying blood tightening on your skin, the relaxing sound of the birds and crickets. You love it all. You realize that you have today become a vampire.

---

Parting of the Ways
Expecting to have a night of passion and sweet companionship, Joel began to strip off his uniform a little at a time, teasing him to arousal and a playful romp of fantasy play.
"I'm being transferred out."
The announcement came with the weight of an M1 Abrams tank. Joel stood there in stunned disbelief.
"When?" He finally managed to ask.
"Tomorrow." Scot was almost in tears. "Orders came in this morning. I leave at 0900 tomorrow."
"I'll put in for a transfer too." Joel suggested.
"You know that won't happen." Scott answered. "You've got two years to go and I have another year and a half. By that time, - Who knows?"
"No! I can't do that. I won't be seperated from you." Joel was desperate. "I won't let that happen."
"We don't have a choice, Joel. I have orders and you are locked in here for another six months and then they will ship you off to wherever the hell they want you - just like they are doing to me."
Joel snuggled up tight to Scot's firm, smooth chest.  He savored the manly scent of his lover, listened to the softly beating heart inside that manly chest and felt the loving fingers caressing his closely cropped hair.
"If I can't be with you then I don't want to live at all." Joel announced. "I want to die. Right now. Get your knife, that beauty that we play with. Use it. Right here." He pointed to the spot under his left pec. "Run it in here and up into my heart. We have played it so much, this time do it for real."
"Are you sure?" Scot asked. "I don't want to lose you. What will I do?"
"You will find someone soon. Look at you! Any guy would die to have you." Joel urged.
"But I don't want someone else." Scot countered.
"Lets do it." Joel pleaded, groping at Scot's bulging basket. "Let me have you one last time."
Scott gave in to the lure of a hot roll in the hay with his special lover and soon they were having their last time together in the narrow bunk hidden in the back room of the storehouse.
Getting dressed again, they headed outside and under the camo tarp behind the buildings.
"Here." Joel said, handing the curved fantasy dagger to Scott. "Just let me die in your arms."
Scott took the long bladed weapon in his hand. "Joel, I love you."

"I'll always lov- Uh!" His answer forever cut short as the cold blade sliced it's way through skin muscle heart and lungs.  Joel turned to look one last time at his devoted lover. Their lips met in one final passionate kiss that was interrupted with a short cough. Blood ran down Joel's quivering jaw as Scott kissed his dying lover's forehead just as Joel collapsed in his arms.
Gently lowering his life's partner to the ground, Scot slid the blade out of his lover's still heart. Looking intently at the blood that coated the blade, now warm with heat from Joel's lifeless body, tears welled up in his eyes and dripped onto the bloody blade.
Taking one deep breath, Scot turned the knife around, held the point against his own sobbing chest and pulled with all the might he could muster.
The sound of steel scraping on bone and a sharp gasp of pain, followed by the dull thud as his body fell beside his  lover on the hard dirt floor.  Joel and Scott, now together forever, left all of their troubles behind.

---

Stomach Stab
 Will stood defiantly staring into Jack's steely blue eyes.
"I said get the fuck out of my face!" Jack snarled as he turned to leave the room. Will grabbed Jack's arm and turned him around to face him again.  Holding onto his arms he kept pushing him backwards.
"I don't want to get out of your face. I like being in your face. Anything to piss you off. I love to piss you off." Will kept walking toward Jack, getting his nose within an inch of his. "Are you pissed? Are you pissed yet?"
"Stop it Dammit! Get the fuck out of my face. I'll kill you! Get back now!"
"Oh, scare me! You kill ME? You fairy assed, big mouthed prick. Kill me? Fuck, you couldn't even touch me." Will leaned into Jack's sweaty red face until his nose touched Jack's nose. "You're nothing but a big mouth.  All talk and no..."
Will's tirade stopped abruptly. The look of confusion on his face said all that needed to be told. No more taunting, no more screaming. The bravado stopped as the searing pain erupted deep within Will's gut as the blade tore through his stomach.
Gasping one quick gulp of air, Will fought for the realization of reality to set in.
"He stabbed me!"
Frozen in place, Will felt the powerful wrenching spasm building inside him as his tortured gut tried to expel the deadly invader in his body.
"You bastard! You.... Eeeeaaaaagghh!"

Unable to hold it back, Will shuddered as his body convulsed and the bloody contents of his stomach poured out and the blade, still deep inside his gut savagely carved it's way through his organs as he violently heaved.
"You fuckin' prick! You stabbed me!" He grabbed at the handle of the knife as he slowly dropped to his knees.
"Call 911. Help me you asshole!"
"You just don't have a clue, do you?" Jack snarled. "I'll help you."
Jack grabbed the knife and ripped it out with a quick yank.
"Yeahhhh!" Will screamed. "I'll kill you for this, asshole.  Help me!"
"I'll help you..." Jack said, grabbing Will's thick mop of hair and moving around behind him. Placing his knees behind Will's back he pulled his head back exposing Will's throat.
"I'll help you to shut the fuck up!"
With one hard slash across the exposed throat, Jack cut all the way to Will's spine. Will started a scream that ended in a hideous gurgle and a crimson gusher. His eyes flashed wide and his mouth opened to finish the scream that was now drowning in blood. His hands reached for his throat but they went limp with the rest of his body, falling uselessly to his sides.
Throwing the shock of hair forward, Jack tossed the limp body forward to fall in the pool of blood on the hardwood floor at his feet.
"All talk and no action?    -  - Not this time."

---

Night Kill
I awoke last night as Neilus crawled out of the tent. Not all that unusual a thing, I just assumed he was going out to relieve himself or perhaps to get some water. I did think he was gone for a little longer than usual but I fell asleep, unconcerned.  This morning I woke to the clatter of armor as some of the men began to gather up their things before the march back to the barracks.
Neilus was not on his mat and I had not felt him crawl past me before the sounds outside woke me up.  Now I was a little concerned.
Gathering my things together, I reported to my superiors that I was going to see where he went and with their grinning permission, I set off. I knew what the grins were about because they knew that we were in love.  We spent all the time we could together, including sharing our tent.
I walked over the small hill where most guys chose to relieve themselves but other than the ones there at the moment, squatting over the soft sand, Neilus was not to be found.
I needed to refill my water jug so I headed toward the stream. Stepping over the low ridge, I spotted Neilus.

   

His own sword had been driven upward through his heart. No sign of his attacker and no other sign of a struggle. Only the cold, unmoving body of my precious and loving partner.

---

One Night Stand
Expecting a quick one-nighter while away from home on business, Leo invited Edward back to his hotel room for a couple of beers and some fun. Only after getting groggy from the single beer did he realize he has been drugged.
Waking up tied to the bed and stripped to his underwear, Leo found himself trying to focus on the blurry figure standing at the foot of the bed. Edward was stripped to his underwear too, as far as he could tell in the dim light and was watching him as he slowly regained his senses.
"What happened? What did you do to me?" Leo asked. "You drugged me."
"Yes I did." Edward admitted. "By the way, that's one sweet ass you have there. Nice and tight even when you were out cold."
"You fucked me while I was out? You bastard! How could you do that to me?"
"Easy there stud.  You lured me up here so we could have some fun, so - I had some fun." Edward held up a small blister pack and rattled the pills inside. "A couple of these in your beer and zap! You're all mine."
Feeling the soreness from his encounter with Edward's fat cock he began to get anxious about being tied up with this unpredictable stranger in his bedroom.
"Ok, you had your fun. How about you untie me and give me a turn at your ass?" Leo asked, hoping to at least get free of his bonds.
"Oh I still have plans for you." Edward said, tossing the packet of pills aside. "I see that cock of yours is getting hungry for action."
"What do you think? You got your jollies, it's my turn now." He tugged at the ropes but was unable to pull free.
"Never played any kind of bondage before?" Edward asked, sitting down on the bed. "It can be a big turn on."
Edward began rubbing and massaging Leo's boxer clad crotch, gently stroking the hidden treasure inside the confines of the snug cloth.
"Ooooh. That's better." Leo cooed as his cock strained against is shorts. "This could be fun after all." Leo started to relax as Edward drew him into the idea of the whole vulnerability of being completely at the mercy of his captor.
Edward stopped his tease.
"Whoa! Don't stop now." Leo breathed softly, trying to not ruin the mood.
"You know what really turns me on with this whole bondage thing?" Edward asked, getting up from the bed.
"What's that?" Leo asked as Edward walked to the chair where he had piled his clothes. Moving his clothes he revealed something long and black laying across the chair. Picking up the dark stick he held one end and slowly slid the scabbard away revealing a long curved katana.
Leo's eyes locked on the long, shiny blade as Edward moved it through the air, slicing hacking and stabbing an imaginary opponent with beautifully practiced moves.
"Imagine how my foe will feel having my sword rammed through his gut! One swift thrust and the end of his life is just moments away." He paused. "I see this is a turn-on to you too." he said, taking his sword and gently tapping Leo's straining cock still inside his underwear. "I thought you might like this part."
Feeling a little afraid but very excited and horny, Leo watched Edward's performance. Edward paused to watch the straining cock in Leo's shorts.
"Here, See if this helps." He said, slipping off his own briefs and tossing them aside.
For several minutes Edward danced around the bed, swinging his sword, thrusting and slashing through the air while Leo watched, more intently than he had ever watched anyone before. Fascinated with the fluid movement of his playful captor along with the progressively erect cock that bounced between his thighs at first but soon stood tall, proud and rigid, he began to relax and enjoy the show.
"I love this." Leo said as he gyrated his hips with the rhythmic moves of Edward's deadly and seductive dance. "This is fantastic!"
"It gets better."Edward answered. His skin was beginning to glisten with sweat in the dim lamp light. "I'm almost there. Do you like a good blowjob?"
"Doesn't everybody?" Leo answered, his cock responding by increasing it's strain against the confining underwear. "This makes the whole drugged out thing worth it. I just wish you had said something to me about it first."
"Would you have let me if I did?" Edward asked.
"Probably not." Leo admitted.
"Sometimes the surprise makes the whole thing so much better." He was still dancing around the room with his long sword and stiff cock slicing through the air with erotic precision. "I have another thing planned for you that I doubt you would agree to if I ask you ahead of time but it will be the most fantastic thing you have ever felt in your entire life."
"It had better be pretty soon or else I am going to cum in my shorts without you!" Leo answered, also starting to break out in a sweat with the powerful stimulation and anticipation he was feeling.
"Don't worry, my friend." Edward said, moving to the foot of the bed. "This show has a killer finish!"
Without warning, Edward stopped, pointing the blade at Leo's muscular abs. Taking careful aim at the deep, sexy furrow between the mounds of muscle on his well defined abdomen.  Leo shuddered with anticipation as the sharp blade gently touched his skin.
"Ooohh! God that's HOT!" Leo moaned as the thrill and delight rippled through his body.
"That's just the start of it." Edward answered. Placing his knee on the bed between Leo's splayed legs, he leaned in toward Leo's helpless body and with a single gliding thrust, pushed the blade through skin, muscle and intestine as it cut a path upward toward Leo's violently pounding heart.
"Aaaaaghhh!"

Leo's body tensed. His muscles tightened as he strained against the ropes that held his hands and feet and he shuddered as the razor sharp blade carved it's way through his body. Edward quickly moved to the side of the bed pulled Leo's underwear down allowing his stiff cock to spring up, free at last.

Taking the rock hard shaft in his hand he guided it between his waiting lips.

Leo shuddered with pain as the heavy blade pressed against his wound and moved as the bed rocked under the weight and movement of Edward's body climbing on the mattress but Leo's cock responded immediately to the attention.  In seconds the wave of energy that emanated from deep inside Leo's loins was building to a tremendous climax.  Leo shuddered with both fear and anticipation as he neared the inevitable eruption.

 "Yeaaaaaaaa - Uhhh -Ungh!"

Leo's body contorted with uncontrollable spasms as his muscles wrenched his body first backward, arching his back up off the mattress and thrusting his cum shooting cock deep into Edward's waiting throat. Next, the spasm turned to a contraction, yanking the shooting cock from Edward's mouth and slamming Leo's back onto the mattress and wrenching the sword through flesh and ripping the wound wide as Edward barely escaped having the razor sharp blade come down on the back of his neck.

Standing back, Edward watched as Leo's contorting body jerked and heaved on the bed, the long blade cutting through his body with every move, his still stiff cock still erupting with a geyser of semen that sprinkled the bed with pearlescent droplets of seed that stood out in stark contrast on the dark blue sheets.

In a few minutes it was all over and Leo lay unmoving on the bed.  No muscle twitched or reacted in any way as Edward pulled the slender blade from the gaping hole in his gut. The soft flesh, now glistening with blood, his erect penis began to slowly wilt and gently lay down in the bloody stream and the straining muscles on his arms, legs, chest and abdomen unknotted and relaxed until the handsome corpse looked like he was sleeping peacefully - except for the blood and that gaping hole in his gut.

"Thanks for everything." Edward whispered as he passionately kissed the silent lips for the last time...

---

Escape or Die

It had been several months since his capture and imprisonment. He had met the twins at a bar and thought a quick one-nighter with the handsome blond twosome would be fun. First he rode with them to a motel where they gave him a wild and wonderful time.  Insisting on having him stay for the night, they gave him some wine before bed which proved to be drugged and when he awoke he was here. Wherever "here" was.
Stripped naked and constantly used as a sex toy by the twin brothers who identified themselves as Cain and Abel, Rob had decided that death was the only way out. If it had to be his own death, then so be it. Rob had been given freedom to move around inside the building but had not been allowed to leave, or even see outside to even get an idea of where he might be.

Left alone for hours at a time, he was pretty much allowed to do as he pleased. There was a treadmill and a workout machine in a room with a huge mirror on one wall and a tanning booth against the other. There were video players, lots of movies - mostly gay porn flicks - and a wide variety of music files on his personal MP3 player.

No radio, no television, no clocks, no way to tell day from night.

He had free reign of 5 rooms but there were three rooms that were locked. Occasionally one of the twins would get up and go to one of the locked rooms and go inside briefly and return but he was not allowed to go near the open doors.

He had searched in vain for anything that could be used to escape.  The walls were poured concrete, No windows. The doors were made of steel and although they were made to look like wood, they were heavy and unmoving if locked. The door to the outside opened up to a small entrance room, about 6 feet square and the twins never allowed the outer door to be open while the inner door was open. The inside door was opened by a key pad and the outer had a key lock and a deadbolt lock. He has figured out the keypad code a couple of months ago but without the key to the outside lock he was still locked in.  All of his eating utensils were plastic and there were no metal spoons, forks or knives.  Nothing to be used as a weapon or a tool to make an escape.

All the comforts of home, if home is a prison.

The routine was usually the same.  From the regularity of it Rob had estimated the time of day but beyond that he was at a loss to be able to tell much.  He would awaken, shower, fix himself some prepackaged food that could be microwaved or toasted for breakfast. Lunch was usually canned soup or a sandwich. He had a coffee maker but didn't use it often. After several hours he would hear the doors outside opening and soon the twins would come in with their hot evening meal. 

The food was good, sometimes prepared by unknown persons, possibly the twins, sometimes restaurant food.

They would set the table and wait on him like royalty and sit down with him to enjoy the meal with him. There was always conversation. The topic usually started out with how Rob spent his day, what movies he watched or music he listened to, what he had to eat.

The twins had always been together at almost all times, seldom separated by more than a few feet they were leashed together by their mutual need for each other. They always seemed genuinely concerned for Rob and often came up with things he asked for whether it be a specific movie or some food or whatever they could do to make his imprisonment and slavery a little more tolerable. They seemed more worried about Rob's happiness and contentment and couldn't seem to understand that he could never be happy as long as he was a prisoner. When Rob tried to convince them that what they were doing was wrong, they just seemed to brush it aside and could not understand why he was not happy with being their personal love slave. - It was a privilege, after all...
They would always pour out glasses of wine and talk in soothing and gentle tones. Try to soothe and coddle him, telling him how much they loved him and wanted to protect him. Finally the conversations would end and the twins would begin to strip off their clothes and start stroking, rubbing and kissing Rob's naked body. Eventually they would take turns sodomizing him, often stroking him or performing oral sex on him. Eventually they would lay beside him for a time until one of them would get up, run into the shower, soon to be followed by the other, some hushed conversation  and then they would quickly get dressed and leave.

Many times while the twins were showering their clothes would lay where they had dropped them but they almost never stayed in the shower together long enough to search through them or get anything done. Today was different. Today the twins went into the shower together. That hopefully meant that they would be gone for a while and as soon as Rob heard the water running, he bolted for the clothes and almost immediately found a set of keys. Bolting for the hallway he quickly tried the keys in the nearest door.

Inside he found a variety of furniture, table, chairs and some shelves.

Hurrying to the next room he found stacks of bedding, blankets, towels and soaps, toilet paper and a few rolls of paper towels. Hanging on a hook on the wall he found his clothes that he had worn the night he was captured, all nicely dry cleaned covered with protective plastic.

The third room had a variety of quick-fix foods, Soups and a few pots and pans. Ceramic and glass tableware and...

Jackpot!

In a box under some pots in the back he found a beautiful, gleaming, long bladed butcher knife!

Rob's heart started pounding. It was going to be now or never. Cain and Abel would be coming out of the shower in no time at all and he was going to have to strike when they did.

The sound of running water subsided. He heard the giggles and laughter that often accompanied the twins as they playfully poked and tickled each other just out of sight in the bathroom. The sound of bare feet padding on the tile floor let him know that the time had come.
Flattened against the wall by the door, Rob waited until the first of the twins stepped onto the room and immediately grabbed his captor around the neck and held the point of the blade against the underside of his jaw.
"Stop right there or he dies!" Rob yelled.
Cain's eyes narrowed as he stared at Rob. "What do you think you are going to do?" he asked. "You're locked in here and even if you kill us you'll never escape without the lock code. I won't tell you, Abel won't. We both know you'll go to the cops if you get out. You stay here and you live.  Kill us and you die here alone."
"I'd just as soon die here after watching your corpses rot away on the floor." Rob growled. "Give me the combination, he lives and I let you go. You can run before the cops start looking for you. Otherwise he dies first then I come after you."
"Cain, give him the combination. He's going to kill me!" Abel whimpered.
"Shut up bitch!" Cain barked. "He's not killing anybody,  He needs us alive to get out of here."
"I already told you," Rob snarled, "If you let me go, you can run first. I can't live this way and if I can't get free, I would rather die. I have nothing to lose but if I go, I'm taking you with me."
Pushing the knife upward the point pressed painfully into Abel's tender jaw releasing a trickle of blood that ran down the blade to Rob's hand.
"Auuuuggh!" Abel cried as he stretched upwards on his toes trying to get high enough to avoid the blade. "Cain!  Help!  He's gonna kill me!"
"Kill him!" Cain snarled. "You'll still have to go through me to get the hell out of here."
"As you wish." Rob answered. "Abel, this is from your brother."
"No! Ahhh! No!! Yeugggghh!"

Abel strained against the blade as it tore up through his jaw, sliced through his tongue and split the bone in the top of his mouth. He gasped a deep breath of air mixed with blood as the tip of the blade entered his brain, he shuddered, stiffened and went limp.
Yanking the blade from Abel's jaw, Abel jerked backward and fell like a rag doll on the floor. His eyes wide, mouth contorted with a grimace of pain and his back arched in a twisted death spasm with his right hand frozen in a futile grasp at his skewered chin.
Cain stood staring at his brother's contorted body as the reality of Abel's death began to sink in. He started to feel the sting of tears welling up from somewhere deep inside. His face began to heat up as the telltale flush of rage signaled that something was about to explode inside.

Cain turned his gaze toward Rob, his eyes narrowed, he took a quick, sharp breath and launched himself toward Rob, fully intent on ripping his throat wide open and tearing his heart out of his chest with his bare hands.

Rob was ready.

The plaintive whimper that escaped Cain's mouth was followed by the thud of his body falling to the floor and the involuntary grunt as the knife handle slammed against the floor and his body contorted with the pain of being impaled on the vicious blade. His pain didn't last long however and soon his final muscle twitches were all that remained of the life that was driven so abruptly from the last of the twins. A pool of dark red began spreading out as the blood in his heart drained out through the gaping hole in his chest.

Rob showered, washing the blood and stench of his captors away, got dressed and found the sets of keys that the twins were carrying. Punching in the keycode that unlocked the inner door he stood for a long time staring at the lock before finally turning the key and hearing the soft click of the lock sliding back.  It was finally over.

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