This was a story I had written for the old forum.  There used to be a pic that accompanied it, but that pic has unfortunately, been lost.


Brad was a cocky American. Some damned cowboy, who had no clue as to his place in society. He had grown up bouncing between youth ranches for troubled teens, until he met the duke's son. They both turned 18 within a month of each other. When the duke's son decided to return to his home, he brought Brad back as a stable hand.


While Brad's attitude was in need of being checked, he was most certainly good with horses. He had been working in the stables for 4 years. Carrying buckets of food and water really taxed his strength and the result was a firm, muscular build.


The duke's son would sneak out regularly to the stables, where Brad was and the two would hold private encounters in the straw of an empty stable. Brad loved it. While he was always to be submissive as a servant, those encounters made him the master of the future duke. What could be more exhilarating than making his master's son kneel before him, or to make him groan from pain and pleasure.


Rumors began quietly circulating about Brad and the duke's son. One night, the duke took a few of his men and went out to the stables, catching the two young lovers.


The duke dragged his son back to the manor house, leaving his men to handle Brad. Ever so cocky, Brad pulled up his pants and looked at the duke's head servant. “So, what you gonna do now? Fire me?”


The head servant only gave a mere smirk..... “Sort of.” To that, he gave a nod to the five men with him and each one pulled a cross bow from his back.


Brad was shocked. “What the hell is this?” He stood arrogantly by the wall. He was already pissed from being treated as an inferior, but the nerve of these bastards, threatening him like this. They didn't need weapons. All they needed to do was tell him to go and he would gladly leave.


The duke's men each locked an arrow in his bow and held it in front of them. “What the f**k is this? You're going to kill me?” Brad could see from the look on the lead servant's face that this was the case.


“You should have thought twice before creating such a scandal in the duke's household. You're nothing but a filthy stable rat, thinking you could screw your way into the manor house.”


“So, what? Now you're gonna kill my for f**king his son. Why not kill him for f**king me?”


“His father will deal with him. You, on the other hand, would most likely use this to blackmail the duke into some sort of annual income. We will not stand for you tarnishing the name of this house.”


Brad watched as the servants all aimed their bows at his bare chest. His mind quickly jumped. His initial thought was to run like hell. He could feel his bare feet clench against the floor. No, he thought. I'm not going to run.


Brad looked defiantly at the servants. He spread out his arms and braced himself against the wall. He raised his chin and glared at the head servant. “F**k you and your master's house.”


With that, the arrows let go. Brad felt the first two hit him in the chest, causing his chest to twist first to the right, then to the left. A third arrow nailed him below the navel, causing his hips to jump forward. The final two rammed into his upper abs, forcing him to bend forward.


Brad, merely let out a hardened grunt when the arrows began slamming into him. The bow from the arrows forced him backward towards the wall. He grasped the wall, forcing himself to remain standing. He stared down at the five arrow protruding from his handsome body.


He could feel the blood in his lungs. His manhood began throbbing out it's final burst. It took all he could to stay standing. He grasped the wall with all the strength in his hands. He could not show any weakness to these bastards. His anger was flaring, but he knew anything he tried, would only make the pain worse. His facial expression flowed between anger, pain and fear,


A sickening feeling began crawling through his stomach as the blood trickled out of his wounds. His breath was becoming stronger, heavier. He could taste the blood in the back of his throat. His breaths gargled as he sought to hold in the air. His mind began blackening. He felt his back sliding down against the plaster wall as his life finally faded.

http://beingbutmen.blogspot.com/2014/07/...there.html


WOW! Explains  a lot.

An entertaining way for the seaside town to deal with rebel gladiators was to run a sword through the gut of one of them and use him as shark bait. His companions were helpless as they felt the rising tide slapping against their balls. Their situation gave them all rock-hard boners and they shot their final wads. The townsfolk picnicked on the shore, and wagered on whether the sharks or the tide would finish off the trio.

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Enemy captives always were good for target practice. You didn't need to feed them, and it was a great show for the citizens. A captive who shot a huge final load always got a round of applause. A good spear thrower could put one right through the navel. Cocks and balls were secondary targets.

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Some oversized images are being posted. There is a way to view these photo online full-size.

Right click any part of the photo. A menu will come up.  Left click "View Image".  The photo will re-size to fit the window. To go back to the original post, click the left arrow at the top of your browser.

This method will work with a PC. I don't know how to do it on a Mac.

Added:
After hearing from Chase, I found out that this method does not work with all browsers. It will work with Firefox and Chrome. With Chrome you choose "Open in New Tab" from the menu.
I have not been able to make it work with Edge or Explorer.

I THINK EVEN the cut off pics gets saved fully if you save them. You can see the entire pic if you save them

Do you want to see this belly and navel stabbed ?

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I have always been fascinated by the image of offering my belly and my navel to one or more guys who will stab and open it.
I made a lot of images and videos on this theme, today I decided to share everything with you on this exceptional site or here I am back

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