Here I am in the arena, thousands of cheering citizens, standing and calling for my blood.  How did I get here.  It was pure and simple dumb luck.  The captain of the guard in Ceasar's Palace complained that his soldiers wasn't getting enough respect.  That had nothing to do with me I was just a lowly scribe.  Ceasar in his ruthless wisdom just pointed out five people at random: a serving girl, one of the sentries at the door, his own nephew, one of his favorite courtier's and then me.
"Take them to the arena and have your men use them for target practice." said Ceasar.
Ceasar's nephew tried to fight, but we were all overwhelmed by guards and dragged out of the palace.  Within the hour we were all here in the arena, stripped nude and tied spread eagle on targets.  I couldn't see what happened to the serving girl, but heard her scream when they threw spears at her, and the final gagging croak that I could only believe was her death throes.
"They can't do this to me!" protested Ceaser's nephew beside me.
I had been a scribe in Caesar's court long enough to know that they could do what ever they wanted.  One of the soldiers mounted a horse and galloped toward us.  He picked up a trident that had been stuck in the ground half way to the targets.  He threw the trident as he trident as he turned his horse and I heard the courtier let out a scream.  I stretched my neck out to see and wish I hadn't because the trident stuck in the young man's throat.  Several of the guards drew their swords as they approached.
"Die well!" said the sentry as he steeled himself.
The sentry let out a scream as three swords drove deep into his belly.  He gagged as another sword went through his heart.
"Oh no!  You can't!" gasped Caesar's nephew as the point of a sword settled just above his penis.
With one quick motion and sickly wet tearing sound the sword jerked up the full length of the young man's washboard stomach.  He shook his head the guard moved back laughing.  He gurgled on his own blood as his entrails spilled out in front of him.  I gulped as I realized it was my turn and a line of archers walked onto the field.  I had attended the games often and saw many gladiators and prisoners fall with arrows in their bodies and watched them twist and writhe in pain.  I had wondered how it felt, now I was about to find out.  The archers were going to take turns, each firing a single arrow and I was there target.  The first arrow seemed to move at slow motion as it flew toward me, then the unimaginable pain as the point dug into my belly about a finger breadth above my navel.  I couldn't breathe, it felt like a volcano erupting in my guts.  Then another arrow hit my right thigh, tearing the muscle and sending even more agony through my body.  I was screaming, but I couldn't hear it over the blood pounding in my ears.  Another arrow hit, this time going into my belly button and shooting searing pain through my entire body.  I tried to move and I tried to squirm, but I was too securely tied.  I could do nothing but watch another archer prepare his arrow.  This one hit just at my waist below my navel and was even more painful than the rest.  I tried desperately to bend over.  Every time I would catch my breath I would expel it again in a scream of pain.  There was one final archer ready to fire and I hope he would merciful and put an end to my suffering.  The captain of the guard held up his hand and the archer lower the shaft, but held it ready to shoot.  I could do nothing but whimper and tremble in pain as the captain of the guard walked up to me.
"Let this be a lesson to all.  This man was heard criticizing the royal guard.  His fate will be that of any who do so." said the captain.
"But I!  I said nothing!" I gasped.
"I know that, but they don't." whispered the captain as he moved closer to me.
He wrapped his hand around the top arrow in my belly and gave it a twist, then the one in my navel, then the one in my waist.  I shrieked with each addition to my pain and he seemed to enjoy watching me suffer.  The captain of the guard stepped back and nodded to the final archer.  He raised his arrow again and I watched the shaft fly toward me.  I felt the solid hit as it burrowed into my chest, then the explosion of pain as it penetrated my heart.  I tried to suck in a breath, but it wouldn't come, then came the bitter acrid taste of blood from down in my throat and flooding up into my mouth.  I felt the blood run over my lower lip as I could no longer hold my head up.  I opened my eyes, but they rolled upward and all I could see was red.  I heard a distant slow thump as what was left of my heart tried to beat, then stop and everything went black.

How should he die?  I would welcome anyone else to try, (please do you are all so much better at the re touches!)

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From the story "Execution Of Stephanus", an older commission for a very good friend.
Enjoy.
   

https://viotred7.gumroad.com/l/ionmf

His belly is waiting

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More specifically how do you face death? What are your exact thoughts on it? Are you scared or willing?  Are you stoic or cowardly in the end? Do you grunt or cuss or say anything at all when you take it? What are the thoughts running through your head once death descends? 

For me, as I prefer to tale multiple stabs to the stomach and chest before being gutted, I always like to think I face it with as much pride and courage as I can. I'm totally willing especially if I lose or my opponent calls my manhood into question. Anxious, possibly even a bit fearful but my want to feel steel would take precedence. My thoughts right before I take the blade would be something along the lines of "Oh fuck I wonder how bad this is gonna hurt? I'm really about to take a blade through the belly! Oh fuck I know this will sting so damn terribly" but I feel I would be grinning as I'm finally being a man and taking it. As I get it in the guts I'm sure I would be grunting and cussing. In fact I'd probably play it up a bit. Squirm on the blade so I feel more! As I die, I think how I fuckin won! I wrestled with death and was able to show how well I can take a gutting! 

What about you guys?

From "Hawk the slayer" 1980  
I like to think they were lovers.

He draws a nice target around his belly just for your bullet 

https://viotred7.gumroad.com/l/yghqa

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Bayonet targets all….. in the ABDOMINAL. MEAT!    GUT UP

Three slabs wearing caps, pointing…. Damn he took that bayo good and dee…AWW… ANOTHER thrust.. fuck.. we can take bayo gut fucks like MEN I. betcha

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All captured, stripped, tied to posts… their bellies used for target practice. The goal is to see how many arrows their abdominals can take without immediately killing them. Who will proudly take more than their comrades?

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