That son of a bitch, Tony.  The oldest son and heir of the mafia empire built up by his bastard of a father.  With his father aging, Tony has been trying to "prove" himself worthy of taking over his father's lead of the mob.  He has been responsible for the deaths of at least 60 people in this town, including a local candy shop owner who dared call him out for parking in a handicap space.  Tony never took criticism well, so he shot the man in front of his children.

            I had been working for Tony as an "errand boy".  This meant I did almost anything at Tony's mansion.  One of my main jobs was tending to the pools.  

          Tony spent every morning going for a swim as part of this daily workout.  This kept his body lean and toned.  As I was the only one working outside in the morning, we were usually alone.  He would often give me "duties" to perform.  Sometimes these were sexual in nature, sometimes it was the destruction of evidence, sometimes it was to keep his wife distracted while he met with one of his mistresses. 

          I saw Tony come in the back gate from a jog.  He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and jumped into one of the pools.  While Tony was in what we called the waterfall pool, I approached with my usual cart.  "Good morning, sir."  I said as I got to the edge of the pool.

          "Just the man I've been looking for."  Tony gave me a grin an waded towards the side of the pool where I stood.  'oh crap,' I thought, 'was he on to me?'

          "I need you to do something for me."  His words were unusually slow and pensive.  "You've done favors for me for how long now?"

          "Five years, sir."  It's true, I was first hired as a pool boy by Tony's father when I was thirteen.  Tony was only five years older than me.

          "You know," he started.  "When my father dies, I will need a second in command.  Since you've been the one most loyal to me and haven't been running to my dad telling him everything I've been up to, I need your help.  You've done well in having my back, I figured it's time for both of us to move up the ladder."

          "I appreciate that, sir.  What would you have me do?"  I had always carried myself professionally with my boss.

          "Call me Tony," he stated, raising a wine glass from the poolside tray and handing it to me.  "My father is going to die this morning, I just need you to burn my shirt and shoes.  You're also my witness that I was here all morning."

          My eyebrows raised.  Wow, this was real.  His ambition had truly taken him beyond the turning point.  Little did he know that right before I had arrived at work, one of Tony's father's limosines pulled up to me and I was taken inside. Tony's father had told me that there had been an attempt on his life and I needed to find out if Tony was involved.  Little did I expect Tony to tell me forthright.

          Since I Tony had confessed to me, I knew what I needed to do.  I reached down into the cart and pulled out the blade his father had given me.  He had no time to react before I buried the blade to the hilt in his rippled abs.  


          Tony let out a loud "Ugggghhh!!"  He stared up at me in disbelief, his broad chest heaving from the force of the thrust.  His eyes turned down at the hilt and widened as he recognized his father's sword.  His jaw dropped open and his gaze returned to me as blood spurt out from his lips.

I stumbled across this Youtube site featuring Asian guys getting their navels tortured.   The first 2/3 of each video is naval stabbing.  The end of each video is a bloody gutting scene, so if your not into that don't play until the very end!

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCL7dZvY...v1w/videos

We all probably know this scene. But WHY did they have to make as if they are also in on the fetish. Like they made it look like he commits harakiri, but Dudikoff is stabbing him. Its so intentional. 

         Nikolas had spent the last 24 hours on patrol.  He was tired and worn when he got back to the bunker.  A nice, hot shower and a good night's rest was all he needed.  But, never one to miss out on his workout regimen, he decided to spend some time lifting weights.

          Afterwards, he soaked his muscular body under a steamy shower, cleaning off the dirt, sweat and grime.  After 30 minutes in the shower, he felt refreshed, like a new man.

          He crawled onto his cot, wearing only his underwear.  He had just closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, when he was awakened by a commotion.  His mind jumped into full-battle mode when he realized the bunker was under attack.  

          He grabbed his pants and was pulling them on when an enemy soldier burst through the door.  Nikolas reached for his weapon, but before he could grab it, the enemy flung his knife at the beefy soldier.

          Nikolas was hit straight in the gut, the blade burying itself nearly to the hilt in his muscular abs.  He tried to move forward, but the sharp, pain in his gut forced him to the ground.

Grease Ball 1
a gladiator fantasy by member bare chested warrior.
It is unusual when survivors write down their experience playing terminal Grease Ball. Players who are seasoned killers rarely write. Their hard cocks are too busy spurting through the grease onto players. The following text was written by a player recapturing the game’s excitement. 
Here is the essentials of the game. A garbage company provides the playing ground, the vats and the grease to fill them. Their sponsorship extends to taking care of the bodies. A representative advised that he will be bringing suitable men to the next game. They will be observers who may be called upon to fight in the game. They are unable to attend today’s game. 
The male players strip down to a pair of shorts and heavy boots. The Grease Ball is a conventional round soccer-type ball designed to be thrown from player to player. Along the way players dip it into grease vats. The idea is to throw the ball so hard that it hits the chest of an opposing player. When a player drops or misses the ball the thrower is entitled to put one handful of grease on the player’s chest. Of course, by moving up to the player he puts himself at risk. The teams have to grease the chests of all opposing players. At an opportune moment the teams pull down the shorts for cock and ball greasing. The small vats are spread across the playing field. The players can fill small cans for hand spreading opposing players. The large vats are heavy duty and big enough to dump players upside down or just into. The team captains support their players. There are two umpires who blow a whistle, supervise and declare the winner. The whistles are attached to a cord and positioned across the chest. The umpires are usually graduates of similar games with proven terminal experience. 
My name is Victor. Team highlights include spread-eagling a player on the ground, dipping hands into grease cans and spreading it onto the chest. It’s even better when the chests are hairy like mine. The grease varies from industrial strength to light oils. The grease varies according to the thickener type, the consistency of how hard or soft the grease is and the oil viscosity which measures the lubricant’s resistance to flow. Cleaning up is a mammoth task but today’s match is different. The authorities have given permission and instructions for the game to be terminal. To this end players can now choke and strangle. The players are effectively, contemporary, Grease Ball, gladiators. 
The team array consists of fifteen players plus an umpire each. One team wears a black band around the top right arm. Otherwise we all wear black shorts and heavy boots. I wanted to be captain but our assigned umpire chose Kelly. It is a fact that his cock stuck out even if behind the black shorts. The chests were a mixture of hairy and non-hairy. I noted that every player had brawn —strong arms and shoulders for killer punches. The instructions made it clear that players could terminate all opposing players including the umpire if they wished. 
There is always an element of comeuppance in these Grease Ball games. This is determined during the course of the game. The umpires are prone to rescue or not rescue a player to the dissatisfaction of the opposing team. 
The game playing ground was much wider and longer than I expected. Both captains selected a player whose task was to bring small cans to seized targets. It was obvious as day follows night that these players would be singled out for special treatment. I was used to playing games where there were goalkeepers and balls were aimed at fixtures in between posts. On this ground two large vats are near the middle but with ample room for player access in between. 
The teams spread out across the ground. The other umpire dipped the ball into a vat. The players could now see the type of grease—thick, industrial type. Our umpire blew the whistle; the other umpire threw the ball at one of our players. It hit his chest full-on. The thick grease stuck. He 
looked around, saw a nearby vat and dipped the ball into it. Then, he threw it at an opposing player. Score again. That’s two chests dripping with grease. The players moved forward towards each other. The opposing team wore the black bands and seemed to know more about attack than my team. They took the initiative, moved into our territory, and captured one of our players. Two players held him from the back of his shoulders; a player brought a full can of grease and a fourth player spread it across the chest. He opened up the front of the shorts, dumped his hand back into the can and then grabbed the cock and balls. He squeezed so hard that the player cried out in pain. The grease can supplier pulled down the black shorts. From now on the greased player would be naked. To everybody’s surprise the greased cock was erect. The fourth player spontaneously pulled the cock off. The cock spurting was the cue for the four players to raise up and carry the player across to a big vat. I was appalled that my team made no effort to rescue their team member. They held him upside down and dumped him into the vat. Everybody could see why they were wearing heavy boots. The two boots thrust into the air desperately trying to land on something. Their umpire came across and held onto the boots. The attackers raised him up so that they could attend to his cock and balls for a last time. The first attacker pulped the cock and balls with strong hands. When it was clear that he had stopped breathing they left the body in the vat with the boots sticking out. 
I was concerned when my team had this setback. Captain Kelly called us together for a pep talk and sent us back to attack the opposing team. It was now perfectly clear that we were Grease Ball gladiators. 
Throwing the ball took on a life of its own. The ball hit many chests and greased them according to plan. The game became more interesting when players deliberately dropped or missed the ball. The thrower moved forward, collected a grease can, and spread a handful of grease across the chest. He continued by throwing the ball further into the field. At the same time players closed in on him for a close workout. A number of players were privileged with a close workout. The umpires took a special interest in close workouts. This was mainly because they enjoyed watching sadists smiling as their worked. 
As I predicted the two can filling players entered into the full spirit of the game. They greased two members each and, in turn, were greased from top to bottom. The smell of the grease was another unremarked aspect. Essentially it was toxic and breath by breath affected the players. 
I missed out on spread-eagling and greasing an opponent. Four members of my team captured, held down and greased an opponent team member. The procedure went according to the textbook until opposing members attacked. In the struggle they strangled two of my members. Another surprise: the bodies were doused in grease. 
The highlight of the game was when I greased the other umpire. His hairy chest swallowed up the thick grease. i got carried away and overlooked safety precautions. An unseen assailant started choking my exposed neck. The feeling was astonishing. I expected that this would be end for me so I started choking the umpire in turn. Something happened the very moment I expected to lose consciousness. A team member pulled the assailant away from me. My immediate reflex was to increase the pressure on the umpire. It worked. He slumped to the ground. I turned around to see that my assailant was now covered in grease. His shorts were down but his cock was up. The team member beckoned me to finish off the cock. I certainly greased it until the moment it spurted. Pulping a cock and balls was something new to me. It was great. The two of us now dragged him across and held him upside down in a large vat. By now he was heavy but we were determined to finish him off. This particular vat was more or less full of fallen players. 
Pity about Captain Kelly. He experienced the full action—capture, bondage, thorough greasing then carriage to the big vat. I believe his cock and balls were spared pulping. Our umpire was unable to save him; indeed our umpire was in turn attacked and only just managed to survive. Nobody else had the authority to stop the game. If the umpire had fallen the killing would have continued to the last man. He had to blow his whistle to stop the game. 
Players found it difficult to keep the Grease Ball at arm’s length. The ball struck and dumped grease on the players’ chests. The surviving five team members including me were alarmed. We had lost. Would we be executed? 
It was just as well this was a contemporary gladiator game with flexible rules. By now the remaining players looked at the sight of the defeated players with their heavy boots protruding from or slumped over the vats. The second vat was almost full. The umpire blew the whistle to stop the game. He ordered the five of us to line up side by side. Opposing team members pulled down our black shorts. This caused embarrassment. Five erect cocks waited for the thick grease. The umpire ordered the winning side to grease us from head to toe but not execute us. Phew! We could handle a thorough greasing but wait. The opposing team members were wound up in a killing frenzy. The climax of the game would prove to be the greasing and execution of the umpire. I was not surprised. I had seen this in previous games. The umpire had set up a manly fight where players killed one another. Gladiators thought that It was fitting to reward him in this way for his service. The umpire knew that his game would end one day. His cock knew that it had to spurt for the last time. There was no way of resisting the gladiators closing in on him. They removed his whistle. The greasing started at the neck, methodically worked down the hairy chest. Down with the black shorts. The erect cock and balls welcomed the grease. In a gesture of appreciation a player pulled the cock until it spurted. Then, four players lifted him up and carried him over to the second vat. It was a tight squeeze but they lowered him upside down into the vat. By now the players enjoyed watching the heavy boots thrusting into the air in vain. 
My feeling of relief was checked by the opposing captain. He saw me greasing his team’s umpire. He put the umpire’s whistle around my neck and across the greasy chest. My cock responded to the prospect of being an umpire in the next Grease Game. At the conclusion to the game 2 would I be executed in turn? 

He is so hot massaging his navel with the sword.

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Hi! 

Just curious to know if there are any members of this forum in Spain.

IMMORTALS (the ABBED actor from SHARKTOPUS is a nasty vampire), MOBPSYCHO 100, ABYSS, BIATCH, V WARS, WU ASSASSINS, BAD EDUCATION, KINGDOM, MONKEY KING, CHAMBERS, TIDELANDS, CUCKOO, JINN, DEAD KIDS, THE WITCHER, THE ARTHDAL CHRONICLES (muscle guys fight to the death shirtless in ancient stoneage Asia), GREENHOUSE ACADEMY, THE UNTAMED (two young men share a "bond" in that this was made in Korea the makers couldn't go all out and make it a full gay love),

Damn, I'm Skewered!

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