Sometime you just "think" you know someone. Brad was the hottest jock on high school. Good looking, popular and a high demand lover. Such a perfect stereotype that everyone expected him to follow the road to fame and success that guys like this usually do. His flawless muscular body was admired from the stands as he performed dive after dive on the swim team earning a spot in the nationals. Form, grace and athletic ability were his to command and every dive was smooth, the barest ripple in the pool as he entered each time. "9", "10", "10" and on and on his scores were fantastic. No one suspected that he had a dark side. As the four years of high school passed Brad had slipped into a depression that overwhelmed him and he hid it afraid that he would let his parents down and maybe lose his spot on the diving team. I fought similar demons and saw in his beautiful dark eyes the pain he felt, the confusion, the questions because I have experience them all my self. Drawn to his beauty, being what classmates called an "invisible," I dared approach him to talk, during lunch one day. To my surprise he said sit down. The other jocks at the table were stunned and stared at me like I was an alien. He dismissed them like a king clearing his court. My heart was hammering so hard in my ears I could hardly hear what he said. "You are Dane, right? Your dad is the Reverend at my church. I see you from time to time in the choir." I answered him, "I didn't know that you knew I existed. I have watched you for a long time and I have concluded we are kindred spirits." He nodded. He knew that I was ying to his yang. I lusted for the kill and he lusted to be killed. "Can you understand that I want to die, but on my terms?" he asked me looking straight into my eyes. I answered, "Yes, and I am prepared to plan your death. You are exactly the prey I have wanted. I am surprised that I saw the darkness in your eyes though. Jocks usually live life to the fullest, entitled and royal in their ivory towers. Tell me why you want to end yourself?" I asked. Brad eyes filled with tears as he said he didn't think he came prepared for this world. That things were sad, depressing and people were evil and selfish. He looked at me and I shrugged, no argument form the predator who would kill him here. "OK how do you want to die?" I asked. "Single shot to the heart, through the chest with a small caliber gun. I want to feel it, the pain, the struggle, the reality of death. I want to experience every last second of pleasure and pain until my last drop of life leaves me." he answered, his eyes squinting and brow wrinkled and lips tight. "I can do that but I have requirements too. My needs have to be satisfied too, for me to take this chance. I risk everything for these few moments of pleasure we will share. You will be dead and I will be left behind to pick up the pieces, salvage what I can and do my best to stay out of prison or the electric chair. I have a place in my home, a target range in the basement. We will do it there. You will let me make love to you first.However long that takes and how much I want to explore your body - all mine for a day!Agreed?" I questioned. "Agreed." Brad hung his head down and his curly black hair framed his face. Anything. Tomorrow please. We will skip school and meet at your house?" he pleaded. I understood his urgency, the survival instinct would be hard to suppress if we trailed this on too long.Bright and early the next morning, Brad was at my door just as my parents left for work and church. My dad was a survivalist and our home a fortress with an armory, hidden rooms and ham radio system. Dad nodded to Brad as he came in and said goodbye. We waited until both cars were gone and I led brad to the bunker below the house by way of the narrow stairs behind the cabinets in the kitchen. "Damn. Your folks are spooky, all this hardware and food storage, the guns and ammo."Brad commented.I pointed to the bed in the first room and Brad went in. He let me undress him and for the next four hours I enjoyed the greatest sex I have ever known. I had him mount me once and itwas amazing to have that muscular body spasm in orgasm deep inside me. I got out my stethoscope and listened to his heart while I road him like a horse and he sprayed again. I was amazed at his stamina and when I was near exhaustion we stopped. Four straight hours of fulfilling my fantasy, now it was his turn.We both redressed and I led him to range. I had a .32 target pistol with a silencer on it so the report wouldn't scare Brad when I shot him. I had him stand at the back of the range near the wall in case the bullet went through, not likely with a .32 but safety always in the range. "One last time Brad, last chance at life, do you want me to shoot you?" I asked him. The same squint, the same tight full lips I had enjoyed just minute earlier, the same wrinkles in hisfore head and "Yes!" was his answer. He opened his shirt and held it open revealing his rippe dabs and defined chest. "Here," he pointed to a place halfway between his nip and hisbreast bone level with his nips. Those nips were hard as nails by the way. He pulled the shirt wide open. Perhaps he was afraid I would ruin it. I didn't care. I was totally focused on the the target he indicated, raised my gun and fired into the quick movement I saw where he had pointed. I never missed dead center of the target and I didn't now. Brad stood there, his heart beating out a death rhythm against his ribs and blood poured freely from the small hole in his chest. The bullet stopped in the rear wall of his left ventricle and the strong heart began emptying his life out of his chest.Brad's jeans went slick with his last and greatest orgasm. Brad's moan was an unbelievable turn on for me. I placed my hand on his chest over the bullet hole and felt the quivering last beats of his heart. I watched his eyes loose focus and caught his body as it relaxed and lowered it to the floor in the death he so wanted.All hunters take a trophy and mine was Brad's heart. I cut it free and held in in my hand for about ten minutes squeezing it, feeling the bullet still inside and the thick strong muscle that powered such a muscular jock for 18 years.I rinsed it off, drained it and placed into the jar of preservative I had prepared. I then added it to the other trophies on the shelf in my room inthe bunker. I finally placed Brad's body laying face down over the butcher block table in the bunker kitchen. Dad would appreciate my skills and reward me with my the new rifle I had been asking for for months. Mom would have enough meat to feed the family for about two weeks and then it would be sister's turn to hunt. I was hoping she would stalk the football player she had been dating.
03-09-2020, 08:13 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2020, 08:14 PM by andrewsnuff.)
(01-17-2020, 11:12 PM)RickKravas Wrote:
Sometime you just "think" you know someone. Brad was the hottest jock on high school. Good looking, popular and a high demand lover. Such a perfect stereotype that everyone expected him to follow the road to fame and success that guys like this usually do. His flawless muscular body was admired from the stands as he performed dive after dive on the swim team earning a spot in the nationals. Form, grace and athletic ability were his to command and every dive was smooth, the barest ripple in the pool as he entered each time. "9", "10", "10" and on and on his scores were fantastic. No one suspected that he had a dark side. As the four years of high school passed Brad had slipped into a depression that overwhelmed him and he hid it afraid that he would let his parents down and maybe lose his spot on the diving team. I fought similar demons and saw in his beautiful dark eyes the pain he felt, the confusion, the questions because I have experience them all my self. Drawn to his beauty, being what classmates called an "invisible," I dared approach him to talk, during lunch one day. To my surprise he said sit down. The other jocks at the table were stunned and stared at me like I was an alien. He dismissed them like a king clearing his court. My heart was hammering so hard in my ears I could hardly hear what he said. "You are Dane, right? Your dad is the Reverend at my church. I see you from time to time in the choir." I answered him, "I didn't know that you knew I existed. I have watched you for a long time and I have concluded we are kindred spirits." He nodded. He knew that I was ying to his yang. I lusted for the kill and he lusted to be killed. "Can you understand that I want to die, but on my terms?" he asked me looking straight into my eyes. I answered, "Yes, and I am prepared to plan your death. You are exactly the prey I have wanted. I am surprised that I saw the darkness in your eyes though. Jocks usually live life to the fullest, entitled and royal in their ivory towers. Tell me why you want to end yourself?" I asked. Brad eyes filled with tears as he said he didn't think he came prepared for this world. That things were sad, depressing and people were evil and selfish. He looked at me and I shrugged, no argument form the predator who would kill him here. "OK how do you want to die?" I asked. "Single shot to the heart, through the chest with a small caliber gun. I want to feel it, the pain, the struggle, the reality of death. I want to experience every last second of pleasure and pain until my last drop of life leaves me." he answered, his eyes squinting and brow wrinkled and lips tight. "I can do that but I have requirements too. My needs have to be satisfied too, for me to take this chance. I risk everything for these few moments of pleasure we will share. You will be dead and I will be left behind to pick up the pieces, salvage what I can and do my best to stay out of prison or the electric chair. I have a place in my home, a target range in the basement. We will do it there. You will let me make love to you first.However long that takes and how much I want to explore your body - all mine for a day!Agreed?" I questioned. "Agreed." Brad hung his head down and his curly black hair framed his face. Anything. Tomorrow please. We will skip school and meet at your house?" he pleaded. I understood his urgency, the survival instinct would be hard to suppress if we trailed this on too long.Bright and early the next morning, Brad was at my door just as my parents left for work and church. My dad was a survivalist and our home a fortress with an armory, hidden rooms and ham radio system. Dad nodded to Brad as he came in and said goodbye. We waited until both cars were gone and I led brad to the bunker below the house by way of the narrow stairs behind the cabinets in the kitchen. "Damn. Your folks are spooky, all this hardware and food storage, the guns and ammo."Brad commented.I pointed to the bed in the first room and Brad went in. He let me undress him and for the next four hours I enjoyed the greatest sex I have ever known. I had him mount me once and itwas amazing to have that muscular body spasm in orgasm deep inside me. I got out my stethoscope and listened to his heart while I road him like a horse and he sprayed again. I was amazed at his stamina and when I was near exhaustion we stopped. Four straight hours of fulfilling my fantasy, now it was his turn.We both redressed and I led him to range. I had a .32 target pistol with a silencer on it so the report wouldn't scare Brad when I shot him. I had him stand at the back of the range near the wall in case the bullet went through, not likely with a .32 but safety always in the range. "One last time Brad, last chance at life, do you want me to shoot you?" I asked him. The same squint, the same tight full lips I had enjoyed just minute earlier, the same wrinkles in hisfore head and "Yes!" was his answer. He opened his shirt and held it open revealing his rippe dabs and defined chest. "Here," he pointed to a place halfway between his nip and hisbreast bone level with his nips. Those nips were hard as nails by the way. He pulled the shirt wide open. Perhaps he was afraid I would ruin it. I didn't care. I was totally focused on the the target he indicated, raised my gun and fired into the quick movement I saw where he had pointed. I never missed dead center of the target and I didn't now. Brad stood there, his heart beating out a death rhythm against his ribs and blood poured freely from the small hole in his chest. The bullet stopped in the rear wall of his left ventricle and the strong heart began emptying his life out of his chest.Brad's jeans went slick with his last and greatest orgasm. Brad's moan was an unbelievable turn on for me. I placed my hand on his chest over the bullet hole and felt the quivering last beats of his heart. I watched his eyes loose focus and caught his body as it relaxed and lowered it to the floor in the death he so wanted.All hunters take a trophy and mine was Brad's heart. I cut it free and held in in my hand for about ten minutes squeezing it, feeling the bullet still inside and the thick strong muscle that powered such a muscular jock for 18 years.I rinsed it off, drained it and placed into the jar of preservative I had prepared. I then added it to the other trophies on the shelf in my room inthe bunker. I finally placed Brad's body laying face down over the butcher block table in the bunker kitchen. Dad would appreciate my skills and reward me with my the new rifle I had been asking for for months. Mom would have enough meat to feed the family for about two weeks and then it would be sister's turn to hunt. I was hoping she would stalk the football player she had been dating.
