11-07-2019, 03:14 PM
You and I, man-to-man, one-on-one, face off in the arena. The taste of dust, the smell of blood and the bellowing of the crowd filled the air as the great powerful champion faced off against his arrogant foe in the final battle of the evening. The glow of the torches cast an orange glow across the sands.
I stood solidly in the center of the arena, girded only by a loin cloth. Undefeated in over 15 years of combat, my noble stature was that of a god being worshiped by the heathen crowd yelling out my name in a majestic roar. The soldier hands me a small dagger, which I place in my waistband. Then, as if fearing for his life, he backs away. A second soldier stands only 15 foot away, bearing my sword. Fear races in his eyes as he sticks the sword in the sand and runs away.
A silence falls over the crowd as I slowly walk over to the sword and grip the handle. I pull it out of the sand and raise it in the air to a thunderous roar of the spectators. I then turn and stand facing the iron gates as the clanking metal chain pulls the bars upward.
You step out, the sword in one hand and the dagger in the other. You, a former warrior, are well-versed in combat. You strut out in a defensive stroll as if waiting for the attack. You had psyched yourself up all day and now was the moment of glory. You had heard my name before, I was once your enemy.
Before both of us were captured by the Romans, we swore to each others' deaths. I had slain your father in combat, severing his head in front of your clan with a single swoosh from my sword. You, in revenge, you sought out my two sons and slew them as they worked in the fields.
So, here we stood, hardened enemies, sworn to slay the other.............
The thunderous roar of the crowd, the sandy taste of the air, the stench of blood and death. All these were nonexistent to us as we faced each other. All we could hear was the pounding of our hearts. All we could feel was the swords in our hands, and all we could see was the blind hatred for each other. You charge at me with full force, aiming your blade at the center of my chest, awaiting the thud as you ram your sword to the hilt, but all you hear and feel is the clank as steel meets steel.
Like at ravenous beast, you continue to swing your sword incessantly at full force. I nearly lose grip on my own a couple of times, but am able to back away and regain composure, while you stop to regain your breath. The sweat runs down our faces, dripping down onto our dusty chests. The thunder of the crowd is merely a sound in the distant as I take my turn going after you.
I deliver a barbarous wailing of sword on sword as you stumble backwards. I continue my onslaught, causing you to lose your footing in the sand and stumble onto your back. You lose your sword, but still maintain the dagger in your grasp. I try to ram my sword downwards into your midsection, but you are able to roll out of the way. You swing your leg at mine, tripping me. I fall with a loud thud onto my back.
You roll over on top of me, the sweat drips off your chest and runs down my body. You grasp the dagger above my throat, as I cleave onto your wrists, holding back your deadly blade. Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, our bodies grind with sweat and sand against each other, you, seeking to deliver your deadly blow, and I, fending it off.
I am finally able to turn the blade so that it is pointing straightway between us. I ram my forehead into your face, splitting your lower lip and knocking you off me. Weroll away from each other and quickly get to our feet. As we do so, our strong bodies show signs of weakness as we both stumble on our feet. You towards the wall and me, grabbing my sword, about twelve feet away. We both pause, catching our breath. You can still smell the scent of my sweat all over your body and I can still smell you. The scent of each other enrages our hearts as we begin the clash again.
The slash and clatter of the swords joined in the grunts and war-cries of the two titans of the arena. Neither one of us would give up our assault. You assailed against me, forcing me back to the wall. When you came for yet another death strike, aimed at my gut, I deflected it to the side, but both of us lost our grips on the swords, as they fell point down into the sand beside us.
You press your left forearm against my throat, forcing me against the wall. I struggle to push you back, but to no avail. I land a couple of punches, but you grab my left wrist in your free hand. You lean more into the choke, your eyes gleaming into mine. My free hand is pressed hard against your muscular chest, trying to force you away. You see my face turning red as my hand slips down from off your chest. You glare into my eyes, waiting for them to slowly gloss over.
You were not aware of my free hand reaching behind me and pulling out the dagger from the back of my waistband. With a single jab, the blade cuts cleanly into your navel. You bend at the waist, still trying to maintain your strangle hold on me. But a second jab sends a searing pain to echo through your body, causing your hand to come to my chest and push away. “AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”
I spin around you and force your back against the wall with a mighty thud. Your chest flies open as you lean against the wall for support. Victory is mine. The crowd roars as I turn to the master of ceremonies to determine your fate. I stretch out my arms parading my muscular torso before the crowd, turning for all the crowd to gaze at.
You bend down at the waist, clutching your gut. The wounds are serious. Anger rises as you refuse to die at my hands. You see the two swords standing up in the sand beside you and recognize your chance. You wait until my back is completely turned, when you grab a sword in each hand and ram them through my lower back on either side of my spine. “RRRHHHAAAAAHHHHH!!”
My back arches backwards and I let out an ungodly yell as the two blades stick a good eight inches out of my gut. My knees bend slightly as I stumble a couple of steps forward.
You smile as you see my arms flail at my sides. I stand on shaky legs, eyes widened by the pain running throughout my abs. You lean back against the wall, both hands returning to your gut. You close your eyes, wincing from the pain and listened as the crowd now roared for you. When you re-open them, you see me standing facing you, my face flushed red, brows turned down in anger as I grab your shoulders and pull your body into mine.
You let out a holler as the two blades protruding from my abs pierce straightway into your gut.
“WWHHHUUUAAAAGGGHHH!!”
I grab you in a strong embrace and hold your muscular body firmly against mine as you struggle from the pain of the swords in your bowels. I pull slightly away then ram my muscular abs and chest back into yours, sending a second wave of shocks running throughout both our bodies. We writhe in pain in each others' beefy arms. We take pleasure in each others' pain. We feel each others' chest heaving for breath.
You reach further around me, grabbing me in your muscular embrace, stopping me from further gut-f**king you with the blades. We hold each other in a powerful bear-hug, our firm, strong abs pressed tight against each other as we both struggle from the pain of the blades. The excruciating pain was unbearable as each breath or movement by the other caused further damage and greater pain. Flesh pressed hard against flesh, almost as if our embrace was meant to comfort the other in our final minutes. My arms begin rubbing up and down your back our hardened groins grind against each other in the ultimate frottage. You lower your arms down my back to hold me close, when you feel the hilt of the swords.
You know how to finish this. Gripping a handle in each hand, you give the blades a fast twist, turning them a quarter turn. Almost instantly, our bodies stiffen and both of us are brought up to our toes. Every muscle in our bodies flexes, forcing our bodies even more firmly against each other as we let out a final gasp. Our man-juices drip from beneath our loin cloths and mingle with the blood flowing down our legs.
I stood solidly in the center of the arena, girded only by a loin cloth. Undefeated in over 15 years of combat, my noble stature was that of a god being worshiped by the heathen crowd yelling out my name in a majestic roar. The soldier hands me a small dagger, which I place in my waistband. Then, as if fearing for his life, he backs away. A second soldier stands only 15 foot away, bearing my sword. Fear races in his eyes as he sticks the sword in the sand and runs away.
A silence falls over the crowd as I slowly walk over to the sword and grip the handle. I pull it out of the sand and raise it in the air to a thunderous roar of the spectators. I then turn and stand facing the iron gates as the clanking metal chain pulls the bars upward.
You step out, the sword in one hand and the dagger in the other. You, a former warrior, are well-versed in combat. You strut out in a defensive stroll as if waiting for the attack. You had psyched yourself up all day and now was the moment of glory. You had heard my name before, I was once your enemy.
Before both of us were captured by the Romans, we swore to each others' deaths. I had slain your father in combat, severing his head in front of your clan with a single swoosh from my sword. You, in revenge, you sought out my two sons and slew them as they worked in the fields.
So, here we stood, hardened enemies, sworn to slay the other.............
The thunderous roar of the crowd, the sandy taste of the air, the stench of blood and death. All these were nonexistent to us as we faced each other. All we could hear was the pounding of our hearts. All we could feel was the swords in our hands, and all we could see was the blind hatred for each other. You charge at me with full force, aiming your blade at the center of my chest, awaiting the thud as you ram your sword to the hilt, but all you hear and feel is the clank as steel meets steel.
Like at ravenous beast, you continue to swing your sword incessantly at full force. I nearly lose grip on my own a couple of times, but am able to back away and regain composure, while you stop to regain your breath. The sweat runs down our faces, dripping down onto our dusty chests. The thunder of the crowd is merely a sound in the distant as I take my turn going after you.
I deliver a barbarous wailing of sword on sword as you stumble backwards. I continue my onslaught, causing you to lose your footing in the sand and stumble onto your back. You lose your sword, but still maintain the dagger in your grasp. I try to ram my sword downwards into your midsection, but you are able to roll out of the way. You swing your leg at mine, tripping me. I fall with a loud thud onto my back.
You roll over on top of me, the sweat drips off your chest and runs down my body. You grasp the dagger above my throat, as I cleave onto your wrists, holding back your deadly blade. Face-to-face, eye-to-eye, our bodies grind with sweat and sand against each other, you, seeking to deliver your deadly blow, and I, fending it off.
I am finally able to turn the blade so that it is pointing straightway between us. I ram my forehead into your face, splitting your lower lip and knocking you off me. Weroll away from each other and quickly get to our feet. As we do so, our strong bodies show signs of weakness as we both stumble on our feet. You towards the wall and me, grabbing my sword, about twelve feet away. We both pause, catching our breath. You can still smell the scent of my sweat all over your body and I can still smell you. The scent of each other enrages our hearts as we begin the clash again.
The slash and clatter of the swords joined in the grunts and war-cries of the two titans of the arena. Neither one of us would give up our assault. You assailed against me, forcing me back to the wall. When you came for yet another death strike, aimed at my gut, I deflected it to the side, but both of us lost our grips on the swords, as they fell point down into the sand beside us.
You press your left forearm against my throat, forcing me against the wall. I struggle to push you back, but to no avail. I land a couple of punches, but you grab my left wrist in your free hand. You lean more into the choke, your eyes gleaming into mine. My free hand is pressed hard against your muscular chest, trying to force you away. You see my face turning red as my hand slips down from off your chest. You glare into my eyes, waiting for them to slowly gloss over.
You were not aware of my free hand reaching behind me and pulling out the dagger from the back of my waistband. With a single jab, the blade cuts cleanly into your navel. You bend at the waist, still trying to maintain your strangle hold on me. But a second jab sends a searing pain to echo through your body, causing your hand to come to my chest and push away. “AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”
I spin around you and force your back against the wall with a mighty thud. Your chest flies open as you lean against the wall for support. Victory is mine. The crowd roars as I turn to the master of ceremonies to determine your fate. I stretch out my arms parading my muscular torso before the crowd, turning for all the crowd to gaze at.
You bend down at the waist, clutching your gut. The wounds are serious. Anger rises as you refuse to die at my hands. You see the two swords standing up in the sand beside you and recognize your chance. You wait until my back is completely turned, when you grab a sword in each hand and ram them through my lower back on either side of my spine. “RRRHHHAAAAAHHHHH!!”
My back arches backwards and I let out an ungodly yell as the two blades stick a good eight inches out of my gut. My knees bend slightly as I stumble a couple of steps forward.
You smile as you see my arms flail at my sides. I stand on shaky legs, eyes widened by the pain running throughout my abs. You lean back against the wall, both hands returning to your gut. You close your eyes, wincing from the pain and listened as the crowd now roared for you. When you re-open them, you see me standing facing you, my face flushed red, brows turned down in anger as I grab your shoulders and pull your body into mine.
You let out a holler as the two blades protruding from my abs pierce straightway into your gut.
“WWHHHUUUAAAAGGGHHH!!”
I grab you in a strong embrace and hold your muscular body firmly against mine as you struggle from the pain of the swords in your bowels. I pull slightly away then ram my muscular abs and chest back into yours, sending a second wave of shocks running throughout both our bodies. We writhe in pain in each others' beefy arms. We take pleasure in each others' pain. We feel each others' chest heaving for breath.
You reach further around me, grabbing me in your muscular embrace, stopping me from further gut-f**king you with the blades. We hold each other in a powerful bear-hug, our firm, strong abs pressed tight against each other as we both struggle from the pain of the blades. The excruciating pain was unbearable as each breath or movement by the other caused further damage and greater pain. Flesh pressed hard against flesh, almost as if our embrace was meant to comfort the other in our final minutes. My arms begin rubbing up and down your back our hardened groins grind against each other in the ultimate frottage. You lower your arms down my back to hold me close, when you feel the hilt of the swords.
You know how to finish this. Gripping a handle in each hand, you give the blades a fast twist, turning them a quarter turn. Almost instantly, our bodies stiffen and both of us are brought up to our toes. Every muscle in our bodies flexes, forcing our bodies even more firmly against each other as we let out a final gasp. Our man-juices drip from beneath our loin cloths and mingle with the blood flowing down our legs.
And As Always,
Happy Battlings and a Glorious Death to You All!!!!
B&D
Happy Battlings and a Glorious Death to You All!!!!
B&D
