https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/ Mon, 27 Apr 2026 12:16:11 +0000 MyBB https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7975 Thu, 18 Sep 2025 07:32:54 +0000 GuttedManlygod]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7975
My heart was pounding but the day had finally come! The 200 yard dash. Everyone in the crowd was cheering for their favorite. I whip my shirt off and get more whoops. The finish line seems to be staring at me. 

“Ready to get beat?” Devin asks grinning wildly at me. 

“I'm ready to fuckin win bro!” We high five and I notice how sweaty his pits are. 

“Runners ready?” The overseer raises one hand. “Go!” 

We all start sprinting and in no time I'm in first! The air whips around me and I feel perspiration running down my chest. My feet pound the ground. The finish line is in sight when Devin comes up on me. 

“Dude let's finish together.” 

“You're on man. You ready?” 

The roar from the crowd is almost deafening but it's seems distant. We pass the finish line, Devin and I still neck and neck, running as fast as we can, when we cross the finish line. 
And run straight onto the blade wall. The outstretched sword slams into my gut just above the belly button, the force of running pushing it deep into me as I bow forward. 

“Oooufffffff fuckkkk!” 
I let out adding my voice to the collective grunts filling the air. The pain is so bad that I keep grunting to distract myself even though it's becoming increasingly worse. The blood is pooling from my stomach and every movement makes it so much worse. 

“Henngggffffff” I manage to look at Devin who's further onto the blade then I am. 

“Dude you won” I manage to say seeing that he is further on his sword then me. 

“I- oaaafff goddamn” Devins body spasms wildly opening a gash in his belly where his innards start dropping out. The world goes dark and cold but I finished this brutal race.]]>
My heart was pounding but the day had finally come! The 200 yard dash. Everyone in the crowd was cheering for their favorite. I whip my shirt off and get more whoops. The finish line seems to be staring at me. 

“Ready to get beat?” Devin asks grinning wildly at me. 

“I'm ready to fuckin win bro!” We high five and I notice how sweaty his pits are. 

“Runners ready?” The overseer raises one hand. “Go!” 

We all start sprinting and in no time I'm in first! The air whips around me and I feel perspiration running down my chest. My feet pound the ground. The finish line is in sight when Devin comes up on me. 

“Dude let's finish together.” 

“You're on man. You ready?” 

The roar from the crowd is almost deafening but it's seems distant. We pass the finish line, Devin and I still neck and neck, running as fast as we can, when we cross the finish line. 
And run straight onto the blade wall. The outstretched sword slams into my gut just above the belly button, the force of running pushing it deep into me as I bow forward. 

“Oooufffffff fuckkkk!” 
I let out adding my voice to the collective grunts filling the air. The pain is so bad that I keep grunting to distract myself even though it's becoming increasingly worse. The blood is pooling from my stomach and every movement makes it so much worse. 

“Henngggffffff” I manage to look at Devin who's further onto the blade then I am. 

“Dude you won” I manage to say seeing that he is further on his sword then me. 

“I- oaaafff goddamn” Devins body spasms wildly opening a gash in his belly where his innards start dropping out. The world goes dark and cold but I finished this brutal race.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7918 Sat, 12 Apr 2025 23:23:48 +0000 Gladius]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7918  years of gladiatorial games in the Empire.

I have had a fetish and fantasies about male and female gladiators for the last 55 years (at least).  My dad was into body building in the Charles Atlas era (decades before Arnold Schwarzenegger) so there were magazines in the house of buff men. Back in the sixties he and I would watch the Italian gladiator movies (Peplum) on TV together. In middle school a buddy of mine shared his dad's collection of "Playboy" and "Penthouse" magazine with me and we would jerk off together on those images of busty nude women.  Somehow the images of gladiators and naked men and women got crossed in my adolescent hormone addled brain. Later on in the Eighties after "Conan the Barbarian" there was a whole slew of "Sword and Sandal" movies I could rent at Blockbuster that had buff guys and babes with "big hair, big tits and little clothes" running around with swords. I really felt that I had a unique fantasy until I discovered the internet in the early 90's and my first Altavista search for "gladiatrix" showed me that I was certainly not alone in my fantasies.

Today I am as aroused by thoughts of naked men cock fighting to the death in the arena as I am of naked women cunt fighting to the death in the arena. My ultimate fantasy would be couple vs couple nude death fights, MvM and FvF, driven by primal sexual lust ten times greater than the horniest you have ever been.  Imagine being in a society where fighting to the death for sex was normal and expected!

I guess you can say that I identify as straight but bi-curious. I've had a couple of nude male frot sessions in real life with other men while we play fought with rubber knives and swords.  It really wasn't a problem if he was gay and thinking sexually about me while I was thinking about killing him in the arena and fucking his female mate (if she killed my female mate). I had my image collection of male and female gladiator fights going as a slide show on the big screen TV while we "fought" in the nude.

If you have read this far then you might, maybe, have similar interests to me. Would love to chat.  But now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you a story I wrote to document my deepest and darkest fantasy.  I hope you enjoy.

In the late first century A.D. Rome is consumed by the political plots and intrigues of some of its most deranged Emperors. With the central government paralyzed the more remote provinces and their provincial governors are relatively free to act without accountability to Rome and follow their own perverse and purient interests. Every provincial town has an arena, some more elaborate than others. In addition to the public games, wealthy individuals can and do hold their own private gladiator fights, often in conjuction with elaborate orgies. Slaves are plentiful, cheap and expendable; little more than "arena meat" for the pleasure of their owners. Not surprisingly, the lines defining sex, eroticism and violence blur and disappear as the wealthy compete to best each other in the notoriety of their orgies and arena spectacles. Patrons choose nude male and female gladiators to fuck, fight and kill in these erotic provincial orgies of blood and cum.

Around one particular small arena, in the raised seating areas, the patrons and their fuck slaves feast and fornicate while below them specially groomed and trained nude men and women gladiators spill each other's cum, blood and guts onto the arena sand in intensely erotic and violent contests.

Various types of gladiator games are devised to arouse both the patrons and the fighters themselves. Among the most popular "games" are:



1. traditional matched pair combats of male vs male or female vs female; often with contrasting physical characteristics and choices of weapons. e.g., an African with trident and net against a blonde Gaul, German or Celt armed with short sword and small shield. Or sometimes just a simple dagger fight to the death.



2. Team annilihation fights. Five nude blondes battle five nude Asians until all of one team are slain. Extra "points" and favors are granted to survivors who fight and kill with extreme ferocity and cruelty or who skillfully disembowel or mutilate their victims.



3. Total melees to the death. Ten fighters with many different types of weapons enter the confined space of the arena but only one (maybe) leaves. The weapons are specifically designed to yield maximum carnage on the nude bodies of the doomed fighters.



4. And my personal favorite; the "mixed couple sexfights to the death."

I am one of the gladiators chosen for this fourth specialty. Only the most beautiful male and female specimens are chosen for these special events. Both the women and the men are chosen for their superior sexual drive and endowments and then trained until their bodies are perfectly sculpted physical packages. Both the men and women are then mentally conditioned to be equally aroused by, and to inseparately link, sex and violence. Special diets and elixers are prepared to increase our aggression and sexual urges. We are continuously engaged in combat training and sexual activity and always required to watch arena combats and participate in orgies to "motivate" us. Our lives are one, short continuous orgy of sex and violence. We are not repulsed by seeing a lover slaughtered in the arena. To us, killing and being killed is just another sexual act to be lusted after.




I have survived being a mixed couples gladiator for a year. I have fucked scores of women gladiators and then been aroused to watch them fight, kill and be killed in the arena. I have been teamed with over a dozen sexy arena gladiatrices and fought over two dozen battles, always killing my opponent. My gladiatrix mate has been killed in these battles as often as having been the killer. It matters not to me; so long as I kill my male opponent I am just as ready to fuck his mate as to fuck mine, whichever kills the other.



Today I am to be teamed with Lena, a Spanish beauty with tan skin, dark smoldering eyes, jet black hair, slender legs, perfect breasts and nipples and the most beautiful cunt I have ever eaten. The first time I saw her was almost my last. Lena was teamed with my male opponent and I was teamed with a sunny blonde named Shyla with big tits and a voracious appetite for combat. I was so distracted by Lena's steaming erotic appearance that her mate nearly killed me. Fortunately, I was able to quickly outmatch my opponent and thrust my gladius deep into his lower belly, just above his erect cock. I held the sword in him as he instinctively turned away resulting in a perfect belly slice that spilled his guts all over the arena sand. I was able to stand there with my dripping sword in my right hand and my dripping hard cock in my left hand and watch Lena and Shyla fight a brunette vs blonde duel of such erotic splendor that I could hardly breath.



One of the best things about a small, intimate arena is that you can distinctly hear the cheers and exhortations of the patrons as the fights proceed. As expected, those utterances of encouragement are usually quite vulgar and explicit. Shouts of "kill him" "kill her" "stab her in the cunt" "blade fuck her" "spill his guts" and the like are music to the ears of the gladiators and add to the erotic excitement of the fight.



As I stood and watched Lena and Shyla parry and thrust their weapons at each other my cock throbbed with excitement and my ears filled with the sounds of their female grunts and the shouts of the aroused spectators. I relished with burning lust the certainty that one of them was going to kill the other, slice off the loser's gold clit ring as a trophy to add to the killer's trophy necklace and then "victory fuck" me right here on the bloody arena sand in front of the adoring patrons. The next couples getting ready to fight were already fucking each other in the arena entrance tunnel and would start their fight while either Lena or Shyla and I were doing each other in the sand within feet of them.



Both cunt fighters were starting to tire but then Lena was able to dodge Shyla's less-than-perfect net throw and get within the arc of her trident. Shyla was able to deflect Lena's sword thrust and in an instant both women were in a clutch. How sexy it looked as they went belly to belly and nipple to nipple, straining their shimmering, oil and sweat soaked bodies against each other. The contrast of Lena's olive tan skin and flowing black hair against Shyla's lighter tanned skin and sun bleached blonde hair was so violently erotic. 

But Lena was slightly stronger than Shyla and was able to turn the point of her short sword towards Shyla's glistening belly. Shyla was unable to manuever her cumbersome net and trident in this position. Lena grunted with exertion and Shyla squealed in desperation. It was over in a moment when Lena drove the tip of her blade into Shyla's belly. Shyla's belly skin popped as the blade broke through and hot blood sprayed from the wound as Lena drove it deeper and deeper until it broke through the skin on her other side resulting in another bloody stream. Shyla's wild blonde hair flew as her head snapped back in pain and her mouth screamed. As Shyla's strength started leaving her Lena held her up and moved her sword in and out of Shyla's belly with a sawing motion, opening a gaping hole and drawing out her viscera. 

After what seemed like an eternity Lena released her grip on the dying Shyla. Shyla slumped to her knees leaving a bloody sheen as she slid slowly down Lena's brown belly and legs. Lena was clearly on the verge of a powerful orgasm as the tension of the death struggle relaxed and the realization of her latest victory became apparent. Shyla dropped to her knees but did not pitch over because Lena took tight hold of her dying enemy's blonde hair with her left hand. Lena still held her short gladius, dripping with gore, in her right hand. Lena jerked Shyla's head back fully exposing her slender neck and throat and deftly placed the tip of her sword in the hollow where Shyla's lower jaw joined her neck. With a short, sudden thrust Lena plunged the sword up and into Shyla's brain ending her life. 

Lena released her grip on her sword and on Shyla's hair and let the beautiful but butchered body flop over into the sand into a spreading pool of blood and a steaming pile of guts. Shyla had been a successful gladiatrix and had killed over ten women and girls no less brutally than Lena had killed her. She was also a great fuck, especially after a kill, and I hoped that Lena would be also.

But Lena had one more task to perform on her kill. She kicked Shyla's legs apart so that the dead woman's engorged clit was fully exposed. Resting just above that clit was a gold clit ring pierced through her clit “hood.” Lena knelt down between Shyla's legs, placed her hands under Shyla's ass to boost her hips up and then buried her face in Shyla's pussy meat. I briefly saw the flash of Lena's teeth and Shyla's gold clit ring. A moment later Lena threw her head back, tossing her long black hair across her back. There clenched in her teeth with a broad smile was Shyla's clit ring with a bit of cunt flesh still on it.



Lena turned to me, her full, engorged breasts and erect nipples splattered with Shyla's blood and sweat and oil. I could clearly see Shyla's clit ring clenched in her teeth and Lena's own clit ring riding atop her own swollen clit. We strutted the few feet towards each other. Then, in one sudden, fluid motion Lena jumped, wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, perfectly mounted my rock hard cock with her sloppy wet pussy and pressed her mouth against mine with Shyla's clit ring still held in her teeth. I could smell and taste Shyla's pussy juices on Lena's mouth as we both chewed and tongue fucked Shyla's clit ring. The crowd roared in delight.

That day we fucked and sucked and licked each other for hours non-stop. We didn't even bother to leave the arena as other couples fought and died around us. The yells of the winners and screams of the losers only added to our blood and sex lust as we fucked and came inside and all over each other.



Lena and I, along with other couples who had survived that day, were celebrated guests at all the best orgies in town for the next week or so. We enjoyed watching each other fuck others at these orgies almost as much as we enjoyed fucking each other. Alone or in groups we orgied with our fellow gladiators knowing full well that the other couples we partner swapped with could be our opponents in the next arena contest. Lena was an amazing sexual animal; an accomplished fucking and killing machine. Our "pillow talk" consisted of recounting stories of our past fights and kills, how we felt fighting and destroying other sexy and erotic gladiators, how it made us cum to kill others who were trying to kill us. 

Lena, who like nearly all of the gladiatrixes was bi-sexual, loved to tell me of her sexual adventures with other women before she fought them to the death. I actually had seen her once wildly 69ing another gladiatrix and then savagely kill that same woman the very next day in an arena fight. She could make me orgasm just by describing how she fought and killed. Lena would orgasm so violently that she would squirt her pussy juices all over me. The erotic aroma of her musk would drive me into a sexual frenzy and an irresistible urge to cockfight and kill for her.



The couples pairings for fights were always anounced at the orgies the night before. The paired couples more often than not would then retire together to a private chamber where they would "trash talk" to each other about how they were going to kill the other couple, fuck each other's mates and otherwise "provoke" each other. The women would trib and the men would frot. The gladiators all knew that these pre-fight sexual rituals were useful for arousing hatred, jealousy and blood lust in both the men and the women that would make the fights more savage. Also, there is nothing like a jealous sexual rage to totally suppress fear in the arena.



Lena and I were paired with a couple similar in size, skill and numbers of kills. We always liked well matched contests. I didn't pay too much attention to my opponent; he was soon to be dead meat anyway. But during our private chamber session Lena did get us to stand face to face so closely that she could play "sword fight" with our hard cocks. The other woman found this amusing as well. She got behind her man and used her right hand to manipulate his cock while Lena got behind me and did the same, all the while talking dirty and sexy in our ears to keep us hard as they thrust and parried with our "swords." Lena and her latest blonde opponent then did their own little tit fight dance for us, 69ed each other and did a hard grinding tribadism cunt to cunt wrestling fight. Finally, the two women fucked each other's mates to arouse killer jealous rage in all of us. 

I loved to kiss Lena after she had 69ed another woman and taste that other woman's cunt juices on her mouth.

The next day we were the second of three couples to fight. The arena had already seen several fights of male pairs and female pairs. These were the frisky young 19 and 20 year old novices trying to score their first kills and victory fucks after a month of forced sexual abstinence, fight training and conditioning. Of course we were permitted to watch and it was easy to see which fighters were natural killers.



Lena and I didn't pay too much attention to the first couples fight, however. We and our opponents were getting in our last fucks before it was our turn. For one man and one woman this was going to be their last living fuck so we all made sure it was a good one. The clanging of weapons, shouts of the crowd and screams of the fighters being killed were perfect background music as we fanned the flames of our lust.

As we entered the arena the cleaning slaves were dragging away the bodies of the two losers while the winning couple were doing each other off to the side. I stole a glance at Lena and her latest blonde opponent one last time before having to focus on my enemy. 

Both Lena and the blonde were naked except for their gladiator sandals and both of them were wearing their trophy necklaces. Lena had eleven clit rings strung on her choker while her blonde enemy had ten rings on her. My cock hardened even more as I thought of the twenty-one women these two had slain in this arena, most of whom I had fucked at one time or another. I was now ready to fight and kill my opponent. I hoped I could thrust my sword into his sculpted abs quickly so that I could enjoy watching the two cunts fight over me.


All four of us were similarly armed for this fight; gladius short swords and small shields. Only the women's swords were slightly shorter and their shields slightly smaller than the men's. We all raised our swords and slowly turned to salute all of the patrons on the raised platforms around the small arena. The honor guest of the day stood and tossed a red hankerchief into the air. We all faced each other and assumed a fighter's stance as the cloth fluttered down. We didn't need to see the cloth hitting the sand because the crowd told us as much by uttering a collective roar.



I closed on my opponent rapidly, seeking to be the aggressor. He was forced to defend and step back to parry my first thrust. I could hear the clanging of steel signifying that Lena and the blonde were also fully engaged in hand-to-hand combat but I was not going to be distracted by the spectacle of the female death fight. I did allow myself to think about the couples orgy last night and how my opponent had fucked my Lena. I assumed he was recalling how I had likewise fucked his blonde mate as both of us were fully erect and attacking each other with a jealous sexual rage. 

For several minutes the two duels proceeded independently across the sand of the small arena. Thrust and parry, back and forth. Loud breathing and the clang of steel on steel. Male and female grunts and curses mixed with the vulgar exhortations of the spectators. I attempted to back my opponent towards the previous fight's winning couple madly fornicating in the arena sand hoping that he would stumble over them. However, that couple was paying enough attention to the erotic combat in their presence to scoot out of the way in time.



Fortunately, Lena's and my superior physical strength and conditioning along with a healthy dose of sexual fury were starting to wear down our opponents. I redoubled my efforts because I so wanted to finish off this arrogant cock before Lena slaughtered that blonde. My opponent started to get sloppy with his sword handling as he tired and became frustrated by my defense. The gladius is a short sword best used for thrusting and stabbing. Slashing with a gladius is dangerous if one is without armor or doesn't position one's shield perfectly. My tired opponent was neglecting the positioning of his shield and was overswinging his slashes. I was able to parry and block his slashes with my sword and shield with minimal expenditure of my energy. 

I could feel him hitting my shield harder and harder with each desperate swing of his sword arm. Then, as he was finishing the arc of his strongest swing yet and expecting to once again smash against my shield I pulled back on my shield so that he totally missed! He overbalanced, could not check his swing and moved his shield away from his midsection in an attempt to keep his balance. My opening had come. His naked pecs and abs were completely exposed as I thrust my gladius straight forward and easily buried six inches of sharp, hard steel straight into his guts just above his hard, quivering cock. 

Oh, how I loved the feel through my sword hilt as the blade penetrated muscular flesh and then slid easily into soft bowels! The feeling of thrusting my sword into another man's flesh was akin to, was as sexually exciting as, thrusting my cock into Lena's moist warm cunt. At that moment I orgasmed. His blood sprayed on my belly simultaneously with my cum spraying on his. His dying heart pumped the blood out of him in red spurts that perfectly matched and contrasted with the opposing white spurts of my cum pumping out of my throbbing hard cock. He uttered only a muffled grunt as the blade violated his belly and knocked the wind out of him. His eyes went wide with shock and hatred at having lost the fight. He grimaced as I twisted the blade and drove it deeper into him. When I finally ripped it free from his flesh great gouts of blood and viscera erupted from his wound. Just before he fell he turned his head to look at Lena and his mate still locked in their death struggle so that the last thing he saw before he died was the two fierce, naked amazons in their erotic struggle.

He fell straight back onto the arena sand, his arms and legs splayed out. I straddled him so that my hard, dripping cock touched his now not-so-hard one. I tossed aside my shield, took hold of his hair with my left hand and pulled his head forward. With my right hand I raised my bloody gladius to salute the patrons and then with a full swing, cleanly lopped off his head.

Lena's opponent knew that one man had just killed the other but had her back turned and didn't know which cockfighter had won. She couldn't see that I was beheading her mate but Lena could see it all and it aroused her fury even more. She had to kill this blonde cunt and have me NOW! I desperately wanted Lena to finish the bitch so that I could fuck her battle hot body. 


I normally don't interfere in a good cunt fight but I couldn't wait any longer. I cocked my right arm back and flung my opponent’s severed head so that it landed directly between the two gladiatrixes.

Lena saw the severed head coming but the blonde was totally surprised to see her lover's head hit the sand at her feet. It broke her concentration just long enough so that Lena could deliver a wicked underhand slash that caught the blonde right in her pussy and cut all the way up to her rib cage! Lena wouldn't have to rip this one's clit ring out with her teeth; the sword slash did the job cleanly. A slash as deep and long as that ruptured the woman's entire torso so that there was nothing to keep her "insides" from falling "outside." So much of her entrails spilled out onto the arena sand that the weight of it pulled the blonde's body forward. She would have landed flat on her tits and face had Lena not caught her ample cleavage with the full length of her sword. The sword punched through her chest and sternum and pierced her heart. If she wasn't dead already the blonde surely was now. 

Lena tossed aside her shield, grabbed the dead woman's throat with her left hand, ripped her bloody sword free and let the whole mess of butchered flesh fall onto the pile of steaming guts.

Both of us just paused to gaze upon the carnage and soak it all in. At that moment we both knew that we wanted to be each other's mate until the day when one or both of us were slain in this arena. We were both covered in a crimson bath of our enemies' blood, our bellies and chests heaving with each exhausted breath. Lena looked so hot and savage that I had to have her right then. As the crowd roared its approval Lena performed her signature leaping fuck onto my cock, her arms and legs wrapping around me. She now had an even dozen clit rings for her trophy necklace, more than any other gladiatrix ever had won before. We would celebrate with an endless string of orgies for another week and then enter the arena once again, to kill or be killed!

The End]]>  years of gladiatorial games in the Empire.

I have had a fetish and fantasies about male and female gladiators for the last 55 years (at least).  My dad was into body building in the Charles Atlas era (decades before Arnold Schwarzenegger) so there were magazines in the house of buff men. Back in the sixties he and I would watch the Italian gladiator movies (Peplum) on TV together. In middle school a buddy of mine shared his dad's collection of "Playboy" and "Penthouse" magazine with me and we would jerk off together on those images of busty nude women.  Somehow the images of gladiators and naked men and women got crossed in my adolescent hormone addled brain. Later on in the Eighties after "Conan the Barbarian" there was a whole slew of "Sword and Sandal" movies I could rent at Blockbuster that had buff guys and babes with "big hair, big tits and little clothes" running around with swords. I really felt that I had a unique fantasy until I discovered the internet in the early 90's and my first Altavista search for "gladiatrix" showed me that I was certainly not alone in my fantasies.

Today I am as aroused by thoughts of naked men cock fighting to the death in the arena as I am of naked women cunt fighting to the death in the arena. My ultimate fantasy would be couple vs couple nude death fights, MvM and FvF, driven by primal sexual lust ten times greater than the horniest you have ever been.  Imagine being in a society where fighting to the death for sex was normal and expected!

I guess you can say that I identify as straight but bi-curious. I've had a couple of nude male frot sessions in real life with other men while we play fought with rubber knives and swords.  It really wasn't a problem if he was gay and thinking sexually about me while I was thinking about killing him in the arena and fucking his female mate (if she killed my female mate). I had my image collection of male and female gladiator fights going as a slide show on the big screen TV while we "fought" in the nude.

If you have read this far then you might, maybe, have similar interests to me. Would love to chat.  But now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you a story I wrote to document my deepest and darkest fantasy.  I hope you enjoy.

In the late first century A.D. Rome is consumed by the political plots and intrigues of some of its most deranged Emperors. With the central government paralyzed the more remote provinces and their provincial governors are relatively free to act without accountability to Rome and follow their own perverse and purient interests. Every provincial town has an arena, some more elaborate than others. In addition to the public games, wealthy individuals can and do hold their own private gladiator fights, often in conjuction with elaborate orgies. Slaves are plentiful, cheap and expendable; little more than "arena meat" for the pleasure of their owners. Not surprisingly, the lines defining sex, eroticism and violence blur and disappear as the wealthy compete to best each other in the notoriety of their orgies and arena spectacles. Patrons choose nude male and female gladiators to fuck, fight and kill in these erotic provincial orgies of blood and cum.

Around one particular small arena, in the raised seating areas, the patrons and their fuck slaves feast and fornicate while below them specially groomed and trained nude men and women gladiators spill each other's cum, blood and guts onto the arena sand in intensely erotic and violent contests.

Various types of gladiator games are devised to arouse both the patrons and the fighters themselves. Among the most popular "games" are:



1. traditional matched pair combats of male vs male or female vs female; often with contrasting physical characteristics and choices of weapons. e.g., an African with trident and net against a blonde Gaul, German or Celt armed with short sword and small shield. Or sometimes just a simple dagger fight to the death.



2. Team annilihation fights. Five nude blondes battle five nude Asians until all of one team are slain. Extra "points" and favors are granted to survivors who fight and kill with extreme ferocity and cruelty or who skillfully disembowel or mutilate their victims.



3. Total melees to the death. Ten fighters with many different types of weapons enter the confined space of the arena but only one (maybe) leaves. The weapons are specifically designed to yield maximum carnage on the nude bodies of the doomed fighters.



4. And my personal favorite; the "mixed couple sexfights to the death."

I am one of the gladiators chosen for this fourth specialty. Only the most beautiful male and female specimens are chosen for these special events. Both the women and the men are chosen for their superior sexual drive and endowments and then trained until their bodies are perfectly sculpted physical packages. Both the men and women are then mentally conditioned to be equally aroused by, and to inseparately link, sex and violence. Special diets and elixers are prepared to increase our aggression and sexual urges. We are continuously engaged in combat training and sexual activity and always required to watch arena combats and participate in orgies to "motivate" us. Our lives are one, short continuous orgy of sex and violence. We are not repulsed by seeing a lover slaughtered in the arena. To us, killing and being killed is just another sexual act to be lusted after.




I have survived being a mixed couples gladiator for a year. I have fucked scores of women gladiators and then been aroused to watch them fight, kill and be killed in the arena. I have been teamed with over a dozen sexy arena gladiatrices and fought over two dozen battles, always killing my opponent. My gladiatrix mate has been killed in these battles as often as having been the killer. It matters not to me; so long as I kill my male opponent I am just as ready to fuck his mate as to fuck mine, whichever kills the other.



Today I am to be teamed with Lena, a Spanish beauty with tan skin, dark smoldering eyes, jet black hair, slender legs, perfect breasts and nipples and the most beautiful cunt I have ever eaten. The first time I saw her was almost my last. Lena was teamed with my male opponent and I was teamed with a sunny blonde named Shyla with big tits and a voracious appetite for combat. I was so distracted by Lena's steaming erotic appearance that her mate nearly killed me. Fortunately, I was able to quickly outmatch my opponent and thrust my gladius deep into his lower belly, just above his erect cock. I held the sword in him as he instinctively turned away resulting in a perfect belly slice that spilled his guts all over the arena sand. I was able to stand there with my dripping sword in my right hand and my dripping hard cock in my left hand and watch Lena and Shyla fight a brunette vs blonde duel of such erotic splendor that I could hardly breath.



One of the best things about a small, intimate arena is that you can distinctly hear the cheers and exhortations of the patrons as the fights proceed. As expected, those utterances of encouragement are usually quite vulgar and explicit. Shouts of "kill him" "kill her" "stab her in the cunt" "blade fuck her" "spill his guts" and the like are music to the ears of the gladiators and add to the erotic excitement of the fight.



As I stood and watched Lena and Shyla parry and thrust their weapons at each other my cock throbbed with excitement and my ears filled with the sounds of their female grunts and the shouts of the aroused spectators. I relished with burning lust the certainty that one of them was going to kill the other, slice off the loser's gold clit ring as a trophy to add to the killer's trophy necklace and then "victory fuck" me right here on the bloody arena sand in front of the adoring patrons. The next couples getting ready to fight were already fucking each other in the arena entrance tunnel and would start their fight while either Lena or Shyla and I were doing each other in the sand within feet of them.



Both cunt fighters were starting to tire but then Lena was able to dodge Shyla's less-than-perfect net throw and get within the arc of her trident. Shyla was able to deflect Lena's sword thrust and in an instant both women were in a clutch. How sexy it looked as they went belly to belly and nipple to nipple, straining their shimmering, oil and sweat soaked bodies against each other. The contrast of Lena's olive tan skin and flowing black hair against Shyla's lighter tanned skin and sun bleached blonde hair was so violently erotic. 

But Lena was slightly stronger than Shyla and was able to turn the point of her short sword towards Shyla's glistening belly. Shyla was unable to manuever her cumbersome net and trident in this position. Lena grunted with exertion and Shyla squealed in desperation. It was over in a moment when Lena drove the tip of her blade into Shyla's belly. Shyla's belly skin popped as the blade broke through and hot blood sprayed from the wound as Lena drove it deeper and deeper until it broke through the skin on her other side resulting in another bloody stream. Shyla's wild blonde hair flew as her head snapped back in pain and her mouth screamed. As Shyla's strength started leaving her Lena held her up and moved her sword in and out of Shyla's belly with a sawing motion, opening a gaping hole and drawing out her viscera. 

After what seemed like an eternity Lena released her grip on the dying Shyla. Shyla slumped to her knees leaving a bloody sheen as she slid slowly down Lena's brown belly and legs. Lena was clearly on the verge of a powerful orgasm as the tension of the death struggle relaxed and the realization of her latest victory became apparent. Shyla dropped to her knees but did not pitch over because Lena took tight hold of her dying enemy's blonde hair with her left hand. Lena still held her short gladius, dripping with gore, in her right hand. Lena jerked Shyla's head back fully exposing her slender neck and throat and deftly placed the tip of her sword in the hollow where Shyla's lower jaw joined her neck. With a short, sudden thrust Lena plunged the sword up and into Shyla's brain ending her life. 

Lena released her grip on her sword and on Shyla's hair and let the beautiful but butchered body flop over into the sand into a spreading pool of blood and a steaming pile of guts. Shyla had been a successful gladiatrix and had killed over ten women and girls no less brutally than Lena had killed her. She was also a great fuck, especially after a kill, and I hoped that Lena would be also.

But Lena had one more task to perform on her kill. She kicked Shyla's legs apart so that the dead woman's engorged clit was fully exposed. Resting just above that clit was a gold clit ring pierced through her clit “hood.” Lena knelt down between Shyla's legs, placed her hands under Shyla's ass to boost her hips up and then buried her face in Shyla's pussy meat. I briefly saw the flash of Lena's teeth and Shyla's gold clit ring. A moment later Lena threw her head back, tossing her long black hair across her back. There clenched in her teeth with a broad smile was Shyla's clit ring with a bit of cunt flesh still on it.



Lena turned to me, her full, engorged breasts and erect nipples splattered with Shyla's blood and sweat and oil. I could clearly see Shyla's clit ring clenched in her teeth and Lena's own clit ring riding atop her own swollen clit. We strutted the few feet towards each other. Then, in one sudden, fluid motion Lena jumped, wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, perfectly mounted my rock hard cock with her sloppy wet pussy and pressed her mouth against mine with Shyla's clit ring still held in her teeth. I could smell and taste Shyla's pussy juices on Lena's mouth as we both chewed and tongue fucked Shyla's clit ring. The crowd roared in delight.

That day we fucked and sucked and licked each other for hours non-stop. We didn't even bother to leave the arena as other couples fought and died around us. The yells of the winners and screams of the losers only added to our blood and sex lust as we fucked and came inside and all over each other.



Lena and I, along with other couples who had survived that day, were celebrated guests at all the best orgies in town for the next week or so. We enjoyed watching each other fuck others at these orgies almost as much as we enjoyed fucking each other. Alone or in groups we orgied with our fellow gladiators knowing full well that the other couples we partner swapped with could be our opponents in the next arena contest. Lena was an amazing sexual animal; an accomplished fucking and killing machine. Our "pillow talk" consisted of recounting stories of our past fights and kills, how we felt fighting and destroying other sexy and erotic gladiators, how it made us cum to kill others who were trying to kill us. 

Lena, who like nearly all of the gladiatrixes was bi-sexual, loved to tell me of her sexual adventures with other women before she fought them to the death. I actually had seen her once wildly 69ing another gladiatrix and then savagely kill that same woman the very next day in an arena fight. She could make me orgasm just by describing how she fought and killed. Lena would orgasm so violently that she would squirt her pussy juices all over me. The erotic aroma of her musk would drive me into a sexual frenzy and an irresistible urge to cockfight and kill for her.



The couples pairings for fights were always anounced at the orgies the night before. The paired couples more often than not would then retire together to a private chamber where they would "trash talk" to each other about how they were going to kill the other couple, fuck each other's mates and otherwise "provoke" each other. The women would trib and the men would frot. The gladiators all knew that these pre-fight sexual rituals were useful for arousing hatred, jealousy and blood lust in both the men and the women that would make the fights more savage. Also, there is nothing like a jealous sexual rage to totally suppress fear in the arena.



Lena and I were paired with a couple similar in size, skill and numbers of kills. We always liked well matched contests. I didn't pay too much attention to my opponent; he was soon to be dead meat anyway. But during our private chamber session Lena did get us to stand face to face so closely that she could play "sword fight" with our hard cocks. The other woman found this amusing as well. She got behind her man and used her right hand to manipulate his cock while Lena got behind me and did the same, all the while talking dirty and sexy in our ears to keep us hard as they thrust and parried with our "swords." Lena and her latest blonde opponent then did their own little tit fight dance for us, 69ed each other and did a hard grinding tribadism cunt to cunt wrestling fight. Finally, the two women fucked each other's mates to arouse killer jealous rage in all of us. 

I loved to kiss Lena after she had 69ed another woman and taste that other woman's cunt juices on her mouth.

The next day we were the second of three couples to fight. The arena had already seen several fights of male pairs and female pairs. These were the frisky young 19 and 20 year old novices trying to score their first kills and victory fucks after a month of forced sexual abstinence, fight training and conditioning. Of course we were permitted to watch and it was easy to see which fighters were natural killers.



Lena and I didn't pay too much attention to the first couples fight, however. We and our opponents were getting in our last fucks before it was our turn. For one man and one woman this was going to be their last living fuck so we all made sure it was a good one. The clanging of weapons, shouts of the crowd and screams of the fighters being killed were perfect background music as we fanned the flames of our lust.

As we entered the arena the cleaning slaves were dragging away the bodies of the two losers while the winning couple were doing each other off to the side. I stole a glance at Lena and her latest blonde opponent one last time before having to focus on my enemy. 

Both Lena and the blonde were naked except for their gladiator sandals and both of them were wearing their trophy necklaces. Lena had eleven clit rings strung on her choker while her blonde enemy had ten rings on her. My cock hardened even more as I thought of the twenty-one women these two had slain in this arena, most of whom I had fucked at one time or another. I was now ready to fight and kill my opponent. I hoped I could thrust my sword into his sculpted abs quickly so that I could enjoy watching the two cunts fight over me.


All four of us were similarly armed for this fight; gladius short swords and small shields. Only the women's swords were slightly shorter and their shields slightly smaller than the men's. We all raised our swords and slowly turned to salute all of the patrons on the raised platforms around the small arena. The honor guest of the day stood and tossed a red hankerchief into the air. We all faced each other and assumed a fighter's stance as the cloth fluttered down. We didn't need to see the cloth hitting the sand because the crowd told us as much by uttering a collective roar.



I closed on my opponent rapidly, seeking to be the aggressor. He was forced to defend and step back to parry my first thrust. I could hear the clanging of steel signifying that Lena and the blonde were also fully engaged in hand-to-hand combat but I was not going to be distracted by the spectacle of the female death fight. I did allow myself to think about the couples orgy last night and how my opponent had fucked my Lena. I assumed he was recalling how I had likewise fucked his blonde mate as both of us were fully erect and attacking each other with a jealous sexual rage. 

For several minutes the two duels proceeded independently across the sand of the small arena. Thrust and parry, back and forth. Loud breathing and the clang of steel on steel. Male and female grunts and curses mixed with the vulgar exhortations of the spectators. I attempted to back my opponent towards the previous fight's winning couple madly fornicating in the arena sand hoping that he would stumble over them. However, that couple was paying enough attention to the erotic combat in their presence to scoot out of the way in time.



Fortunately, Lena's and my superior physical strength and conditioning along with a healthy dose of sexual fury were starting to wear down our opponents. I redoubled my efforts because I so wanted to finish off this arrogant cock before Lena slaughtered that blonde. My opponent started to get sloppy with his sword handling as he tired and became frustrated by my defense. The gladius is a short sword best used for thrusting and stabbing. Slashing with a gladius is dangerous if one is without armor or doesn't position one's shield perfectly. My tired opponent was neglecting the positioning of his shield and was overswinging his slashes. I was able to parry and block his slashes with my sword and shield with minimal expenditure of my energy. 

I could feel him hitting my shield harder and harder with each desperate swing of his sword arm. Then, as he was finishing the arc of his strongest swing yet and expecting to once again smash against my shield I pulled back on my shield so that he totally missed! He overbalanced, could not check his swing and moved his shield away from his midsection in an attempt to keep his balance. My opening had come. His naked pecs and abs were completely exposed as I thrust my gladius straight forward and easily buried six inches of sharp, hard steel straight into his guts just above his hard, quivering cock. 

Oh, how I loved the feel through my sword hilt as the blade penetrated muscular flesh and then slid easily into soft bowels! The feeling of thrusting my sword into another man's flesh was akin to, was as sexually exciting as, thrusting my cock into Lena's moist warm cunt. At that moment I orgasmed. His blood sprayed on my belly simultaneously with my cum spraying on his. His dying heart pumped the blood out of him in red spurts that perfectly matched and contrasted with the opposing white spurts of my cum pumping out of my throbbing hard cock. He uttered only a muffled grunt as the blade violated his belly and knocked the wind out of him. His eyes went wide with shock and hatred at having lost the fight. He grimaced as I twisted the blade and drove it deeper into him. When I finally ripped it free from his flesh great gouts of blood and viscera erupted from his wound. Just before he fell he turned his head to look at Lena and his mate still locked in their death struggle so that the last thing he saw before he died was the two fierce, naked amazons in their erotic struggle.

He fell straight back onto the arena sand, his arms and legs splayed out. I straddled him so that my hard, dripping cock touched his now not-so-hard one. I tossed aside my shield, took hold of his hair with my left hand and pulled his head forward. With my right hand I raised my bloody gladius to salute the patrons and then with a full swing, cleanly lopped off his head.

Lena's opponent knew that one man had just killed the other but had her back turned and didn't know which cockfighter had won. She couldn't see that I was beheading her mate but Lena could see it all and it aroused her fury even more. She had to kill this blonde cunt and have me NOW! I desperately wanted Lena to finish the bitch so that I could fuck her battle hot body. 


I normally don't interfere in a good cunt fight but I couldn't wait any longer. I cocked my right arm back and flung my opponent’s severed head so that it landed directly between the two gladiatrixes.

Lena saw the severed head coming but the blonde was totally surprised to see her lover's head hit the sand at her feet. It broke her concentration just long enough so that Lena could deliver a wicked underhand slash that caught the blonde right in her pussy and cut all the way up to her rib cage! Lena wouldn't have to rip this one's clit ring out with her teeth; the sword slash did the job cleanly. A slash as deep and long as that ruptured the woman's entire torso so that there was nothing to keep her "insides" from falling "outside." So much of her entrails spilled out onto the arena sand that the weight of it pulled the blonde's body forward. She would have landed flat on her tits and face had Lena not caught her ample cleavage with the full length of her sword. The sword punched through her chest and sternum and pierced her heart. If she wasn't dead already the blonde surely was now. 

Lena tossed aside her shield, grabbed the dead woman's throat with her left hand, ripped her bloody sword free and let the whole mess of butchered flesh fall onto the pile of steaming guts.

Both of us just paused to gaze upon the carnage and soak it all in. At that moment we both knew that we wanted to be each other's mate until the day when one or both of us were slain in this arena. We were both covered in a crimson bath of our enemies' blood, our bellies and chests heaving with each exhausted breath. Lena looked so hot and savage that I had to have her right then. As the crowd roared its approval Lena performed her signature leaping fuck onto my cock, her arms and legs wrapping around me. She now had an even dozen clit rings for her trophy necklace, more than any other gladiatrix ever had won before. We would celebrate with an endless string of orgies for another week and then enter the arena once again, to kill or be killed!

The End]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7706 Fri, 19 Apr 2024 15:57:16 +0000 traxxgalaxy]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7706
Did any of you guys ever read the Richard Blade books by Jeffrey Lord? Most of the covers showed a muscular naked hero fighting off soldiers or warriors. Sometimes he was naked, sometimes a tiny loin cloth or kilt.
The books contained very explicit sex with girls and women (ignore what comes first in this story if that turns you off). I am bi so the descriptions of his manly sperm spurting into young girls gets me off just as much as the descriptions of swords penetrating warriors bodies and spraying blood on the other side.
Here is on except from "Warlords of Gaikon" See if you see the gladiator fight arouses you are not. I have lost so much cum to this over the years, and sometimes read parts of it to guys I meet over the phone, ejaculating as I describe each kill.
The girl was young, but her body had unmistakably matured. Graceful curves were evident under the pink robe. And she gave off a subtle but undeniably appealing and arousing perfume. Blade suspected he knew the «service» she was supposed to render. Well, why not? He doubted if the dabuni were supposed to be ascetics. He certainly wasn't!
He remained standing, returning the girl's look, until she gave a little giggle and looked down at the floor. Without looking up, she undid the blue sash at her waist. The robe fell open. Then she shrugged slim shoulders, and the robe fell whispering to the floor and lay in a pink pool at her feet.
Like her perfume, the girl's beauty was subtle but arousing. All the curves were as delicate as if they had been drawn by a master artist with a very fine brush. In the dim light Blade could make out the faint sheen of shoulders and hips, the lift of small, pointed breasts with the nipples faint smudges at their tips, a small black strip almost perfectly centered between slim thighs. The girl threw her head back, until her black hair flowed down almost to the small of her back, and thrust her hips forward.
Yes, undeniably arousing. Blade couldn't have denied the arousal if he had wanted to. His massive member jutted forward, swollen, solid, sending urgent demands tip to his brain. He responded to those demands. He stepped forward, lowered his massive hands until he could cup the girl's firm buttocks, and lifted her. Her eyes and mouth flared open as Blade drove upward between her legs, into her wet channel. Then she closed her eyes and stretched out her arms to grab Blade by the shoulders. Her legs twined around Blade's hips, locking her into place as she began to rock back and forth with Blade inside her.
She was not only wet but fantastically snug. After what seemed like only seconds Blade knew that she was going to push him over the edge soon. Too soon? He didn't know. He didn't know anything except that he needed and wanted to hold against the glorious agony that was boiling up in his groin and threatening to boil over. He didn't know anything, didn't care about anything, couldn't have paid attention to anything else if his life had depended on it. The girl was light, but his breath was coming in great sobbing gasps, and she seemed to be threatening to tear his aching arms out of their sockets as she twisted her hips around and around and around-
Suddenly she pressed down, locking herself so tightly around Blade that he felt as though the breath was being squeezed out of his body. But it was her breath that came out in a great shuddering gasping groan as she heaved herself up and down in a final desperate effort.
The girl's efforts put an end to Blade's self-control. His own hips twisted and turned as he felt his own heat spurting savagely upward into the girl, going on and on and on. There had been a terrible heat in him, and it took a long time for it all to be released.
But finally he was empty, and he lifted the half-conscious girl in his arms and laid her down on his sleeping pad. Then he lay down beside her and pulled the quilt over both of them.
As he finally drifted off to a deep sleep, Blade couldn't help running his mind back over his first day in Gaikon. A dangerous world, yes. But he suspected it would be a strangely exciting one as well.She was tall for a woman of Gaikon, tall and long-limbed. She could run her fingers through his hair without reaching, press her warm lips against his throat and run them up and down the side of his neck. She twisted from side to side as she did this, and bit by bit the robe crept wider and wider open. Then suddenly with a faint hiss of silk on soft skin it was gone, falling and spreading on the sleeping mat at her feet. Her whole exquisite body gleamed bare, the highlights shifting as she slowly turned about in front of Blade.
Then suddenly she knelt down and after a moment almost threw herself backward. «Oh, Blade,» she murmured. «Let it be now. Let it be now, and not a moment later. It is time for us. Kunkoi would have it so.» Slowly her legs spread apart, inch by inch, as she spoke. Meanwhile her hands cupped her small conical breasts, whose nipples were already solidly erect spots of darkness against the creamy brown skin.
If Blade hadn't already decided to answer Lady Oyasa's appeal, he would have decided at that moment. He was not a stone statue, and nothing else could have resisted the appeal of Lady Oyasa's naked body-and the naked desire in her eyes and voice. His hands worked swiftly, stripping off his own robe, then he lay down on the mat beside her.
His hands roamed up and down her body, while her hands did the same on his. She nuzzled his throat again, and nipped the tanned skin with small sharp white teeth. Desire swelled further in Blade, a desire to lose himself in this woman, to lock his arms around her. He had not felt such a total desire for a long time; he had wondered if it was perhaps something he had lost.
But it was not, and so he gave into it. He pulled Lady Oyasa over on top of him, and she settled down to take him into herself, deep and deeper, until they were locked together more tightly than Blade would have imagined possible. His arms bent her downward even farther, until her gorged and solid nipples brushed his chest. Her flesh was both cool and hot at the same time. Its feel against his own drove Blade's desire higher-higher and faster even than the tightness and wetness and warmth that were wrapped around him.
Lady Oyasa began grinding her hips down against Blade, twisting them around in a circle, rocking her body from side to side against his chest. She began to whimper, then to gasp in a rhythm that increased to match Blade's. Her long fingers arched themselves into claws and raked through his hair, digging into his scalp. But the pain did not penetrate Blade's mind. Nothing did, nothing could. He was becoming totally absorbed in this woman, in the act of love with her. No, not necessarily love, or even affection. Passion-raw, burning, and exhilarating enough in its own right.
Suddenly Lady Oyasa's fingers clamped down hard, her nails digging deep into Blade's scalp. He gasped with the sudden stabbing pain and his efforts to hold on. She opened her mouth wide and let out a howl of pure animal feeling, a howl that filled the hut. It was so loud Blade could imagine it escaping
through the walls and being carried for miles through the forest outside. The lady thrashed and heaved and twisted as though an electric shock was passing through her, alternately jerking half upright and plastering herself harder than ever against Blade.
Then Blade himself groaned and let out a shout of relief and triumph as his own spasm came. It was his turn to lock his arms around Lady Oyasa, his turn to run his fingers through her hair, his turn to pull her hard against him as he jetted furiously up into her still-twisting body. For long minutes they stayed locked together in a common release, and if the hut had fallen in on them they would not have noticed it.
Eventually the explosion of passion faded away. Blade lay on the mat, one arm curled around Lady Oyasa, waiting for his breathing to return to normal, feeling his body as damp with sweat as it would have been after a battle. Even after he had the breath to do so, he did not feel like speaking.
Lady Oyasa broke the silence, propping herself up on one elbow and looking down at Blade with a soft smile on her face. Even now Blade could not help noticing that her breasts were so firm they did not sag or droop out of shape as she took this ungraceful pose. She ran the tip of one finger lightly across Blade's rib cage and said, «Well, Blade-what of folly now?»
Blade bowed and spoke formally. «Honorable First Dabuno, I confess my ignorance and ask that you enlighten me.»
«It is simple. The master game of Hu is played by the Hongshu with each of the five pieces of the hand represented by a living dabuno. You will be the first warrior, the most powerful piece of the hand. It is known that with your spear you are all but invincible, so this is proper.»
Doifuzan's smile broadened. «You will honorably represent our lord, Blade. And you will make this game of Hu memorable for the Hongshu as well. When a piece captures another in it, they fight. To the death.»
Blade bowed. «I am honored by our lord's confidence in me.» There was nothing else he could appropriately say. Besides, this was certainly being at the center of things!
Chapter 14
Blade stood in the first warrior's black square and stared out across the enormous Hu-board pattern that covered the entire floor of the huge chamber. The black and white squares gleamed in the light of the lamps swinging from the beams overhead. Behind him Lord Tsekuin sat on a chair cushioned with white silk. At the opposite corner of the board sat the Hongshu. Beside him Lord Geron lay on a litter. Lord Tsekuin had not wounded the second chancellor as seriously as it had been believed at first. But it would be several weeks more before he could walk about normally. The sid
e of his face that was now swathed in bandages would be scarred for life.
Beside Lord Tsekuin sat Doifuzan. Other than the two players and their companions, the only people in the chamber were the five «pieces» of each player's hand. Blade had wondered why the Hongshu thought he would be safe facing a man whom he had disgraced and doomed.
«You may wonder that,» Doifuzan had said. «But not aloud. To even think of striking at the person of the Hongshu is an abomination. Were any of us to do that, the whole clan would be swept from the land. Castles and huts alike would burn, fields would be plowed up and sown with salt, men, women, children, warriors, and peasants-all would perish by fire or steel or slow torture. Do not speak the least word of rebellion against the person of the Hongshu.»
Blade saw the wisdom of that. It was not the time or place to point out that dead Hongshus execute no rebels. It was also not the time to ask what might be done against other enemies than the Hongshu himself. Blade was sure that Yezjaro and Doifuzan were already thinking about this. He was just as sure they would not welcome his questions about it.
Blade threw a brief glance at the Hongshu. He was on the small side, but he wore his hair tied higher than usual and sat very erect to conceal the fact. He looked lean and in fighting trim, although a full beard suggested something about his face that he preferred to conceal. His eyes moved continuously about the chamber. In another man this might have given the impression of restlessness. In this man it gave the impression of a ceaseless curiosity, a constant ferreting out of other people's secrets.
A formidable man, Blade suspected. Perhaps there was reason why even the Hongshu's enemies preferred his ironhanded rule to that of the present overeducated, weak-willed emperor.
But the politics of Gaikon meant nothing one way or the other in this chamber. Blade turned his eyes to the five dabuni of the Hongshu's hand. The man had certainly picked them for size. There wasn't one of them less than six feet tall or lighter than two hundred pounds. Their swords and spears were in proportion. But did they have skill to match their brawn?
All four of Blade's own comrades were at least competent fighters. Two carried spears, two carried swords. But Blade suspected he was going to wind up doing most of the fighting.
The sound of another of Gaikon's thousands of gongs broke into his thoughts. The Hongshu rose from his chair and stepped forward to stand beside his first warrior. Lord Tsekuin did the same with Blade. Lord Tsekuin bowed deeply; the Hongshu bowed much less deeply. The Hongshu stepped back and intoned in a surprisingly deep voice:
«We meet here in the master game of Hu. Such is the wish of Lord Tsekuin. Such wish is his right by the laws and customs of proper obedience, as established by the Hongshu Korlo in the fifty-fourth year of the power of this house. Let it be witnessed that this is his wish, and to it we consent.»
Lord Geron and Doifuzan spoke together. «It is witnessed.»
The Hongshu nodded slowly. «Then let the game commence.» He sat down again, while the gongs sounded again from above. Then he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Lord Tsekuin to declare the first move.
Even with only ten pieces on its forty-eight-square board, Hu was a complicated game. Each of the five pieces of each hand-first warrior, first and second swordsman, first and second spearman-had about thirty different moves. Some they could make at all times, others only under certain conditions. Blade remembered his remark when Yezjaro first summarized the rules and moves for him.
«It sounds like a long game.»
«It is. Two truly skilled players have been known to sit at a board for three days continuously, without food or sleep. A normal game can last six or seven hours.»
But this game would not last even a few hours, let alone several days. There would be no captures, only death, and the blood on the tiled squares would be entirely real.
The gongs died away. From behind him Blade heard the rustle of Lord Tsekuin's robes as he sat down. Then the man's voice rang out in the sudden silence of the chamber, loud enough to echo.
«Second spearman-Jufon move to square six-five.»
Both players devoted their first few moves to maneuvering their five pieces out toward the center of the board. The Hongshu seemed to prefer a more open formation, Lord Tsekuin a tight one. Blade suspected that was to make it easier for him to move into action against any of his five possible opponents. There were strategies in the regular game of Hu built around the first warrior in just that way. They made even more sense here.
After that came a quick series of another half-dozen moves, most of them unnecessarily intricate. When that was finished, the two clusters of warriors were almost exactly where they had started. Blade suspected the two players were trying to either impress or confuse each other with their skill at the more intricate moves of the game.
But both players were too experienced to let a show-off opponent's tricks bother them. When the sequence of moves was done, Blade shot a quick look behind him. Lord Tsekuin sat motionless in his chair, arms crossed on his chest, his face a mask as immobile as if it had been cast in bronze. Blade's respect for the doomed lord rose. Keeping that iron calm under the circumstances was admirable.
A long silent pause followed. The moment for the first blood was approaching. Blade knew that neither player was hesitating out of any fear of that moment. But now the price of a wrong move had suddenly risen. Now it could throw away a warrior of the hand, and perhaps the game.
It was the Hongshu's turn now. One of his swordsmen made a simple move out to the right. Simple- but it brought him to where one of Lord Tsekuin's spearmen could engage him by any of half a dozen moves.
The Hongshu had thrown out his challenge. Now the decision lay in Lord Tsekuin's hands. Blood now or later?
Lord Tsekuin rose to the challenge. He called out a move in clipped, cool tones. The spearman moved to engage. He was the youngest of the five dabuni in Tsekuin's hand. Could he have any chance against the Hongshu's swordsman?
His opponent was half again as large as the spearman and looked larger still. With a rasp of metal he drew his sword. The spearman's weapon rose into position and he dropped into fighting stance. The silence in the chamber deepened. The two opponents stood motionless, their weapons raised. From where Blade stood, he couldn't even see them breathe.
Suddenly the two frozen figures in the center of the chamber exploded in sound and movement. The
swordsman's weapon swung wide, leaving him open to the spearman's thrust. The spearpoint flashed forward. The sword whipped back as fast as it had swung out. Steel point and steel blade crashed against each other with an echoing clang that filled the chamber. The spearpoint dropped down, the sword blade rose up. It flicked out toward the young spearman, but he seemed to twist aside at the last second. He stood as his opponent pulled his sword back and raised it again. Blade wondered why the young man didn't turn back to face his opponent.
Then the spearman's point dropped further, to rest against the floor. His fingers opened and the spear clattered to the floor. A moment later the spearman followed it. As he struck the floor and lay full length on it, blood began to gush from the wound in his side, under his armpit. Blade looked more closely. The gash went in halfway through the chest. Had it gone straight into the heart, with that single split second blow?
As if to answer Blade's question, the spearman gave a final convulsive jerk, gurgled, coughed, and lay still. Blood trickled out of his mouth to join the spreading pool on the tiles.
Blade took a tighter grip on his own spear. That was a quick kill even by Gaikon's deadly standards. It now seemed quite likely that the Hongshu's dabuni were as skilled as they were big.
The Hongshu wore a smug, arrogant grin. Blade risked another look behind him, at Lord Tsekuin and Doifuzan. Then he looked again. Both men had their eyes fixed on the Hongshu. As his grin broadened, they began to have trouble keeping their own faces straight. Blade swung his eyes back across the body on the floor to the triumphant Hongshu. Then the light dawned
for him.
Lord Tsekuin had deliberately sacrificed the young spearman, who was after all the least important dabuno of his hand. He had cold-bloodedly sacrificed him to make the Hongshu overconfident, judging by the other man's expression, he had succeeded. And the young spearman had gone to his death with no regard for anything but his lord's orders, although he knew what was coming.
Blade suspected that there were two games being played today. There was the deadly master game of Hu here in the chamber. There was another, larger, deadlier game being played for far higher stakes all over Gaikon, of which this game of Hu might be only a part.
Blade clutched his spear so tightly in both hands that his knuckles stood out white. He managed to give a slight tremble to both his lower lip and his knees, and swallowed rapidly several times. He wanted to give the impression of a man suddenly realizing the deadly stakes of this game, and half- unnerved by his discovery. As he turned away from the two men behind him his eyes briefly met Doifuzan's. The old dabuno's lips flickered apart in a brief smile, one that the Hongshu would never see. Blade turned back to stare across the chamber at the enemy. The Hongshu was rubbing his hands on the knees of his white silk trousers, and the visible half of Lord Geron's face was split by a broad grin.
Good. They looked like men who would be half-blind with triumph and anticipation of an easy victory. Blade relaxed his grip on his spear and waited for Lord Tsekuin to announce his next move. He suspected it would bring him into the play.
He was wrong. Lord Tsekuin apparently decided it would help if he also acted like a man who had lost his self-control because of the death of the spearman. He indulged in a flurry of moves, simple and
complex, varying them without any apparent pattern. He didn't pay much attention to the Hongshu's responses, either. Blade hoped Lord Tsekuin wouldn't carry the act too far. If the Hongshu decided to move in for a quick victory while Tsekuin was doing his imitation of a frightened, indecisive man, things could get very nasty very quickly.
The Hongshu didn't. But then he was obviously one of those men who savored watching his enemy sweat in fear before striking. Here he couldn't wait two weeks before striking, as he had done before. But he could wait a few minutes, and then a few minutes more-and then a few minutes beyond that.
The minutes added up until nearly an hour had passed since the spearman's death. The aimless maneuvering went on, neither side pushing their warriors into a fight. Blade threw occasional looks behind him. Had Lord Tsekuin really lost his head and his skill? He began to wonder. But each time he looked, Doifuzan met his eyes with a faint smile or nod.
The maneuvering went on for a few minutes more. But now it had a purpose. One move at a time, Lord Tsekuin was shifting Blade. Soon he would be within a single move of battle with any of the Hongshu's five dabuni.
The ruler of Gaikon was too filled with anticipation of his easy victory to notice what was happening. Blade made his last necessary move. The Hongshu shifted a spearman in a minor move that still left him within range of Blade. Blade deliberately dropped his spear to keep up the act of being nervous and panicky.
Then behind him Blade heard Lord Tsekuin's voice.
«Sha move to square four-seven.» Three quick steps and Blade was facing the Hongshu's second swordsman. To Blade it seemed the room had suddenly become even quieter than before.
In a regular bout, Blade would have started a slow circle around his opponent, forcing him to shift position, testing his footwork, perhaps trying to disorient him. But here the fighters had to stay within their squares. All they could do was freeze into their stances and hold position, weapons aloft and ready, eyes watching for the slightest sign of an attack.
Blade was determined to wait and give his opponent the first blow. It was a gamble, since he couldn't leave the square to avoid his enemy's sword. But it was only a small gamble. Blade knew how fast he was. The other man didn't.
A slight flickering of the swordsman's arm muscles was all the warning Blade had. The sword leaped high, ready to slash down at Blade's skull. Then it leaped sideways and came whistling at Blade's side- or where Blade's side should have been. But Blade recognized the stroke-a clumsy version of Yezjaro's own «flying bird cut.» The defense against it was something built into his reflexes by long hours of practice against the instructor.
Blade sprang back on legs like steel springs. The tip of the sword whistled by, inches from his stomach. The sword swung wide. Blade leaped in again, holding the spear out to his right in a vertical guard. The return cut with the sword crashed into the spear shaft. Again the clash of metal echoed through the chamber. As the sword leaped up again, Blade drove the spear downward. The sharp edge of the spearhead slashed down the second swordsman's left leg from knee to ankle. Flesh gaped open
and blood sluiced down on to the floor.
The second swordsman let out a howl of surprise and pain and stared wide-eyed at Blade. He seemed bothered more by his opponent's unexpected skill than by his own wound. But he hadn't lost any courage. His sword whistled down again three times in rapid succession-left, right, right. But his aim was poor and his footwork slowed by the wound. Blade considered using the prongs on the spear to disarm the man the way he had disarmed Captain Jawai. But why bother? There was no need to put on a show here-just a well-done kill.
The sword rose again and seemed to hover edge-on in front of Blade. He raised the spear, holding it horizontally in front of him. The swordsman launched a cut at Blade's ribs. Blade sprang back, shifting to a one-handed grip on the spear. The massive muscles of his right arm snapped the spear horizontally forward, straight into the swordsman's throat. Flesh, blood vessels, windpipe parted as neatly as if Blade had swung a giant razor. Blade jerked the spear back. The swordsman stood for a moment, blood fountaining from his gaping neck, the life going out of his eyes. Then he fell, landing with a splat in the spreading pool of his own blood.
Blade pulled off his tunic, which had been spattered by the spraying blood of his opponent's death- wound. He wiped his bloody spearhead with it. Then he spread the tunic over the dead man's head, stepped back into the middle of his own square, and pounded his spearbutt three times on the floor.
It was the signal of victory. It was also the signal for a sudden flurry of murmuring and whispering. Blade was conscious that every eye in the room was fixed on him. Then the four survivors of the Hongshu's hand started looking at each other. Uncertainty was in their eyes.
Their master's voice slashed through the silence. «Why stand and gape, you fools? He who lies there did nothing worthy of a wise dabuno. He doomed himself by forgetting who had instructed his opponent. That was no true victory we saw. That was a fool's bungling suicide!»
The Hongshu's voice was loud and harsh. But Blade realized that he was trying to reassure himself more than his four dabuni. He was certainly not improving their spirits. Blade noticed sour looks on their faces, sour looks directed at their master.
Before the sour looks could turn into open rebellion, the Hongshu called out his move. Blade watched. Would he now send his first warrior or first swordsman forward against Blade?
Instead the first swordsman moved back and around, on to the flank of the first warrior. Blade was still within easy reach of both spearmen. Would Lord Tsekuin-?
Lord Tsekuin would. Blade found himself face-to-face with the opposing first spearman. He considered his next move.
The first two kills had been crude, at least by Gaikon's highest standards. How to make more of an impression with the next one? An impression not only on the Hongshu's mind, but also on the other three opposing dabuni?
Then Blade grinned. There was a standard technique in Gaikon spear-fighting. In the hands of the average dabuno, it was more spectacular than deadly. But Blade was not the average dabuno. His arms were stronger and his eyes and reflexes faster. He could make the «spectacle» turn deadly.
Blade stepped back, out of range of a quick thrust from his opponent. He raised the spear over his head, holding it horizontally in both hands. Then he began to whirl it, his hands shifting with steadily increasing speed. The spearman's eyes drifted up to the whirling spear. No doubt he knew perfectly well that such a whirling spear could not be stopped and thrust forward without giving more than enough warning to an opponent. So did the Hongshu. He could not keep a sneer off his face as he watched Blade's spear whirl and listened to the mounting hiss as it cut the air. If one of Lord Tsekuin's men was going to make a fool of himself this way, so much the better.
Once he had settled into a steady rhythm, Blade could keep a spear going like this for half an hour without thinking about it at all. He kept his eyes and mind focused on the spearman, with occasional glances at the Hongshu. He wanted to go on long enough to get everyone thinking he must be getting tired. Not long enough to really get tired, though. His one-shot kill might not come off. Years of single- combat experience told him to keep plenty of strength in reserve.
He whirled the spear faster. Now the hiss deepened into a drone, like a distant swarm of bees. He did not bother looking up. He knew that by this time the spear must be only a half-invisible blur above him, like a hummingbird's wings. Sweat began to trickle down his face and chest, and he felt the first twinges of strain in his, arm and wrist muscles. It wouldn't be long now.
Definitely it wouldn't be long now. The spearman was beginning to look speculatively at him and to shift his grip on his own weapon. Had he decided Blade was a madman, easily vulnerable? Time to change his mind, then.
Blade focused his attention on the spear for a moment. One, two, three, four more times around. Then his breath exploded out of him in a scream.
«Kiiiiy-a-a-ahhhhh!
The spear froze in midair. Before the spearman could blink an eye, Blade took the one step forward that brought him within thrusting range. The spearman's weapon jerked upward in a futile effort to guard. If the man had tried his own thrust, he might at least have taken Blade with him. As it was, his spear was still rising when Blade's spear drove
downward. It drove into the spearman's belly just below the ribs, drove through the spine with a sharp crack, and burst out his back in a spray of blood. Blade jerked the spear free and stepped away as the spearman collapsed backward. When the last convulsion subsided, Blade again wiped his spear on the dead man's trousers and turned to face the Hongshu.
This hadn't been quite as spectacular a kill as he might have managed. He had trained himself until he could bring a spear to a stop and pick off a fly on the wall. But why risk missing? The one blow had been struck and the spearman was dead. The Hongshu wasn't particularly happy about it, either. One hand was tightly clutching the arm of his chair, until Blade wondered if the hard black wood would collapse into sawdust under the pressure. He also had the look of a man trying to keep the shock he felt off his face.
Lord Tsekuin and Doifuzan were also fighting to keep their faces expressionless. They looked as though they wanted to throw aside their dignity and applaud or embrace Blade-or both at once.
The three surviving dabuni of the Hongshu's hand weren't even trying to look calm. They had seen
two of their comrades die under Blade's spear like rats in a dog's jaws. They couldn't avoid wondering who was next. Blade noticed the first warrior looking toward the Hongshu. His face showed a mixture of anticipation and fear. Blade guessed that this time it would be the Hongshu who forced the combat. Probably between the two first warriors.
Blade had guessed right. The Hongshu's first warrior was drawing his sword and raising it into position as he stepped forward. A simple move through four squares, and he stood in the square to Blade's right. Blade raised his spear and turned to face the man.
He was the largest of the Hongshu's outsized warriors, nearly six and a half feet tall. But there was no fat on his massive frame, only supple muscle. His feet moved with a delicacy and assurance that told Blade this man might be faster than he looked. Blade decided not to plan in advance any particular way of dealing with the first warrior. He would try a few exchanges first, to reveal the man's weaknesses, relying on his own speed to keep himself safe.
Blade almost wasn't fast enough. A sudden whuff, and the first warrior's sword split the air beside Blade's ear. A few inches closer, and it would have split his head as neatly as a grapefruit. Blade aimed a thrust at the man's thigh. The sword blocked the thrust, then smashed the spear aside with a blow that nearly tore it out of Blade's hands. If it had landed squarely instead of glancing, it would have chopped the spear in two.
This man definitely wasn't going to be as easy a victim as the first two. In fact, Blade wasn't even sure that the first warrior was going to be the victim at all. This was an opponent who could and would chop him in two if he slipped at all. Hope was written nakedly all over the Hongshu's face, and even the other two dabuni of the enemy's hand wore thin smiles.
The deadly dance went on. Blade soon realized that he couldn't tire this man out. He couldn't force him off-balance-the man handled his two hundred and fifty-plus pounds too well. He couldn't get through his guard with any thrust or stroke that wouldn't leave him dangerously vulnerable. Blade began to get the ugly feeling that this bout would go on and on and on, ending only when one man or the other got lucky.
That wasn't so good. Luck could work for either man. Obviously the two players knew that. Both the Hongshu and Lord Tsekuin wore identical expressions of frozen strain.
More exchanges of cuts and thrusts. Blade now had a small cut in one hip, his opponent an equally small one on his shoulder. Blade still couldn't see any pattern in his opponent's responses that would help him break through the man's guard. He was beginning to wonder if there was one.
Another deafening clang sounded as spear shaft met sword. The shock deflected Blade's spear upward, the point driving over the first warrior's head inches above his tightly bound hair. He didn't seem to notice it at all.
Blade licked dry lips and deliberately made his next thrust a high one, aiming over the head again. He almost aimed too high. The sword came through his open guard and nicked his ribs, and blood trickled again. But the first warrior didn't notice the direction of Blade's thrust.
A light dawned for Blade. The Hongshu's first warrior seemed to have trouble coping with attacks coming in above his eye level. Did he have vision trouble? Or was it just that he so seldom had to look
up at anything that it didn't occur to him to look up, even in a fight? Blade didn't care. He knew he had a possible opening.
If he was right. If he was wrong-but he couldn't take more time to confirm his guess. Many more high thrusts, and the first warrior might become aware of his own weak point and extend his guard. Then it would be back to the endless dance, waiting for luck to turn for one fighter or the other.
Blade stepped back. He dropped into a crouch that made him look as though he was planning a thrust into the first warrior's groin. Then he leaped straight up, legs uncoiling in a single snap of powerful muscles. He soared upward like an Olympic high jumper, six feet clear of the floor. At the top of his leap his spear lunged out and down.
The first warrior had just started to raise his eyes and sword to follow Blade when Blade's spear drove down at him. It drove down into him almost vertically between the collarbone and the top rib, plunging through until it came out at the small of his back. With Blade's full descending weight behind it, the spear smashed the first warrior backward onto the floor hard enough to crush his skull. Then Blade let go of the spear and came down with both feet on the fallen man's chest and stomach. He heard more grisly noises as the first warrior's ribs and internal organs gave under the impact of Blade's two hundred and ten pounds.
Blade stepped off the body, pulled out his spear, and backed away into the center of his own square. He had never inflicted so many fatal injuries on one opponent in such a short time.
The Hongshu also looked as though he had lost a good deal of blood. His face had turned the same dirty off-white as the chamber walls, and the hand he raised was shaking slightly.
«Honorable Lord Tsekuin,» he called out. His voice was shaking slightly also. «Do you consent that I yield the victory to you at this time?»
Lord Tsekuin's reply rang out loud enough to raise echoes.
«I do not consent. Let the game continue to the end.»
The Hongshu's face turned even whiter. His hand no longer trembled. Instead it looked to Blade as though the man was having to fight an urge to draw his sword and fly at Blade or Lord Tsekuin. Nothing but fear of what he might unleash by sweeping away law and custom like that seemed to be holding him back.
Then the tension that might have flashed into violence and chaos passed. The Hongshu sighed visibly, crossed his arms on his chest, and nodded.
«Then let the game continue.»
It took only another fifteen or twenty minutes before the last two dabuni of the Hongshu's hand joined their comrades on the floor. Neither really had the nerve left to defend themselves, and Blade didn't feel particularly good about killing either one. He understood why Lord Tsekuin might want to rub the Hongshu's nose in his defeat. But it still seemed like an ugly and meaningless butchery.
Silence returned to the chamber as the last of the Hongshu's fighters gave his death rattle and lay still.
Blade was conscious that the Hongshu's eyes were fixed on him more intently than before. Blade raised his spear in the formal salute and waited for the man to speak. ]]>
Did any of you guys ever read the Richard Blade books by Jeffrey Lord? Most of the covers showed a muscular naked hero fighting off soldiers or warriors. Sometimes he was naked, sometimes a tiny loin cloth or kilt.
The books contained very explicit sex with girls and women (ignore what comes first in this story if that turns you off). I am bi so the descriptions of his manly sperm spurting into young girls gets me off just as much as the descriptions of swords penetrating warriors bodies and spraying blood on the other side.
Here is on except from "Warlords of Gaikon" See if you see the gladiator fight arouses you are not. I have lost so much cum to this over the years, and sometimes read parts of it to guys I meet over the phone, ejaculating as I describe each kill.
The girl was young, but her body had unmistakably matured. Graceful curves were evident under the pink robe. And she gave off a subtle but undeniably appealing and arousing perfume. Blade suspected he knew the «service» she was supposed to render. Well, why not? He doubted if the dabuni were supposed to be ascetics. He certainly wasn't!
He remained standing, returning the girl's look, until she gave a little giggle and looked down at the floor. Without looking up, she undid the blue sash at her waist. The robe fell open. Then she shrugged slim shoulders, and the robe fell whispering to the floor and lay in a pink pool at her feet.
Like her perfume, the girl's beauty was subtle but arousing. All the curves were as delicate as if they had been drawn by a master artist with a very fine brush. In the dim light Blade could make out the faint sheen of shoulders and hips, the lift of small, pointed breasts with the nipples faint smudges at their tips, a small black strip almost perfectly centered between slim thighs. The girl threw her head back, until her black hair flowed down almost to the small of her back, and thrust her hips forward.
Yes, undeniably arousing. Blade couldn't have denied the arousal if he had wanted to. His massive member jutted forward, swollen, solid, sending urgent demands tip to his brain. He responded to those demands. He stepped forward, lowered his massive hands until he could cup the girl's firm buttocks, and lifted her. Her eyes and mouth flared open as Blade drove upward between her legs, into her wet channel. Then she closed her eyes and stretched out her arms to grab Blade by the shoulders. Her legs twined around Blade's hips, locking her into place as she began to rock back and forth with Blade inside her.
She was not only wet but fantastically snug. After what seemed like only seconds Blade knew that she was going to push him over the edge soon. Too soon? He didn't know. He didn't know anything except that he needed and wanted to hold against the glorious agony that was boiling up in his groin and threatening to boil over. He didn't know anything, didn't care about anything, couldn't have paid attention to anything else if his life had depended on it. The girl was light, but his breath was coming in great sobbing gasps, and she seemed to be threatening to tear his aching arms out of their sockets as she twisted her hips around and around and around-
Suddenly she pressed down, locking herself so tightly around Blade that he felt as though the breath was being squeezed out of his body. But it was her breath that came out in a great shuddering gasping groan as she heaved herself up and down in a final desperate effort.
The girl's efforts put an end to Blade's self-control. His own hips twisted and turned as he felt his own heat spurting savagely upward into the girl, going on and on and on. There had been a terrible heat in him, and it took a long time for it all to be released.
But finally he was empty, and he lifted the half-conscious girl in his arms and laid her down on his sleeping pad. Then he lay down beside her and pulled the quilt over both of them.
As he finally drifted off to a deep sleep, Blade couldn't help running his mind back over his first day in Gaikon. A dangerous world, yes. But he suspected it would be a strangely exciting one as well.She was tall for a woman of Gaikon, tall and long-limbed. She could run her fingers through his hair without reaching, press her warm lips against his throat and run them up and down the side of his neck. She twisted from side to side as she did this, and bit by bit the robe crept wider and wider open. Then suddenly with a faint hiss of silk on soft skin it was gone, falling and spreading on the sleeping mat at her feet. Her whole exquisite body gleamed bare, the highlights shifting as she slowly turned about in front of Blade.
Then suddenly she knelt down and after a moment almost threw herself backward. «Oh, Blade,» she murmured. «Let it be now. Let it be now, and not a moment later. It is time for us. Kunkoi would have it so.» Slowly her legs spread apart, inch by inch, as she spoke. Meanwhile her hands cupped her small conical breasts, whose nipples were already solidly erect spots of darkness against the creamy brown skin.
If Blade hadn't already decided to answer Lady Oyasa's appeal, he would have decided at that moment. He was not a stone statue, and nothing else could have resisted the appeal of Lady Oyasa's naked body-and the naked desire in her eyes and voice. His hands worked swiftly, stripping off his own robe, then he lay down on the mat beside her.
His hands roamed up and down her body, while her hands did the same on his. She nuzzled his throat again, and nipped the tanned skin with small sharp white teeth. Desire swelled further in Blade, a desire to lose himself in this woman, to lock his arms around her. He had not felt such a total desire for a long time; he had wondered if it was perhaps something he had lost.
But it was not, and so he gave into it. He pulled Lady Oyasa over on top of him, and she settled down to take him into herself, deep and deeper, until they were locked together more tightly than Blade would have imagined possible. His arms bent her downward even farther, until her gorged and solid nipples brushed his chest. Her flesh was both cool and hot at the same time. Its feel against his own drove Blade's desire higher-higher and faster even than the tightness and wetness and warmth that were wrapped around him.
Lady Oyasa began grinding her hips down against Blade, twisting them around in a circle, rocking her body from side to side against his chest. She began to whimper, then to gasp in a rhythm that increased to match Blade's. Her long fingers arched themselves into claws and raked through his hair, digging into his scalp. But the pain did not penetrate Blade's mind. Nothing did, nothing could. He was becoming totally absorbed in this woman, in the act of love with her. No, not necessarily love, or even affection. Passion-raw, burning, and exhilarating enough in its own right.
Suddenly Lady Oyasa's fingers clamped down hard, her nails digging deep into Blade's scalp. He gasped with the sudden stabbing pain and his efforts to hold on. She opened her mouth wide and let out a howl of pure animal feeling, a howl that filled the hut. It was so loud Blade could imagine it escaping
through the walls and being carried for miles through the forest outside. The lady thrashed and heaved and twisted as though an electric shock was passing through her, alternately jerking half upright and plastering herself harder than ever against Blade.
Then Blade himself groaned and let out a shout of relief and triumph as his own spasm came. It was his turn to lock his arms around Lady Oyasa, his turn to run his fingers through her hair, his turn to pull her hard against him as he jetted furiously up into her still-twisting body. For long minutes they stayed locked together in a common release, and if the hut had fallen in on them they would not have noticed it.
Eventually the explosion of passion faded away. Blade lay on the mat, one arm curled around Lady Oyasa, waiting for his breathing to return to normal, feeling his body as damp with sweat as it would have been after a battle. Even after he had the breath to do so, he did not feel like speaking.
Lady Oyasa broke the silence, propping herself up on one elbow and looking down at Blade with a soft smile on her face. Even now Blade could not help noticing that her breasts were so firm they did not sag or droop out of shape as she took this ungraceful pose. She ran the tip of one finger lightly across Blade's rib cage and said, «Well, Blade-what of folly now?»
Blade bowed and spoke formally. «Honorable First Dabuno, I confess my ignorance and ask that you enlighten me.»
«It is simple. The master game of Hu is played by the Hongshu with each of the five pieces of the hand represented by a living dabuno. You will be the first warrior, the most powerful piece of the hand. It is known that with your spear you are all but invincible, so this is proper.»
Doifuzan's smile broadened. «You will honorably represent our lord, Blade. And you will make this game of Hu memorable for the Hongshu as well. When a piece captures another in it, they fight. To the death.»
Blade bowed. «I am honored by our lord's confidence in me.» There was nothing else he could appropriately say. Besides, this was certainly being at the center of things!
Chapter 14
Blade stood in the first warrior's black square and stared out across the enormous Hu-board pattern that covered the entire floor of the huge chamber. The black and white squares gleamed in the light of the lamps swinging from the beams overhead. Behind him Lord Tsekuin sat on a chair cushioned with white silk. At the opposite corner of the board sat the Hongshu. Beside him Lord Geron lay on a litter. Lord Tsekuin had not wounded the second chancellor as seriously as it had been believed at first. But it would be several weeks more before he could walk about normally. The sid
e of his face that was now swathed in bandages would be scarred for life.
Beside Lord Tsekuin sat Doifuzan. Other than the two players and their companions, the only people in the chamber were the five «pieces» of each player's hand. Blade had wondered why the Hongshu thought he would be safe facing a man whom he had disgraced and doomed.
«You may wonder that,» Doifuzan had said. «But not aloud. To even think of striking at the person of the Hongshu is an abomination. Were any of us to do that, the whole clan would be swept from the land. Castles and huts alike would burn, fields would be plowed up and sown with salt, men, women, children, warriors, and peasants-all would perish by fire or steel or slow torture. Do not speak the least word of rebellion against the person of the Hongshu.»
Blade saw the wisdom of that. It was not the time or place to point out that dead Hongshus execute no rebels. It was also not the time to ask what might be done against other enemies than the Hongshu himself. Blade was sure that Yezjaro and Doifuzan were already thinking about this. He was just as sure they would not welcome his questions about it.
Blade threw a brief glance at the Hongshu. He was on the small side, but he wore his hair tied higher than usual and sat very erect to conceal the fact. He looked lean and in fighting trim, although a full beard suggested something about his face that he preferred to conceal. His eyes moved continuously about the chamber. In another man this might have given the impression of restlessness. In this man it gave the impression of a ceaseless curiosity, a constant ferreting out of other people's secrets.
A formidable man, Blade suspected. Perhaps there was reason why even the Hongshu's enemies preferred his ironhanded rule to that of the present overeducated, weak-willed emperor.
But the politics of Gaikon meant nothing one way or the other in this chamber. Blade turned his eyes to the five dabuni of the Hongshu's hand. The man had certainly picked them for size. There wasn't one of them less than six feet tall or lighter than two hundred pounds. Their swords and spears were in proportion. But did they have skill to match their brawn?
All four of Blade's own comrades were at least competent fighters. Two carried spears, two carried swords. But Blade suspected he was going to wind up doing most of the fighting.
The sound of another of Gaikon's thousands of gongs broke into his thoughts. The Hongshu rose from his chair and stepped forward to stand beside his first warrior. Lord Tsekuin did the same with Blade. Lord Tsekuin bowed deeply; the Hongshu bowed much less deeply. The Hongshu stepped back and intoned in a surprisingly deep voice:
«We meet here in the master game of Hu. Such is the wish of Lord Tsekuin. Such wish is his right by the laws and customs of proper obedience, as established by the Hongshu Korlo in the fifty-fourth year of the power of this house. Let it be witnessed that this is his wish, and to it we consent.»
Lord Geron and Doifuzan spoke together. «It is witnessed.»
The Hongshu nodded slowly. «Then let the game commence.» He sat down again, while the gongs sounded again from above. Then he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Lord Tsekuin to declare the first move.
Even with only ten pieces on its forty-eight-square board, Hu was a complicated game. Each of the five pieces of each hand-first warrior, first and second swordsman, first and second spearman-had about thirty different moves. Some they could make at all times, others only under certain conditions. Blade remembered his remark when Yezjaro first summarized the rules and moves for him.
«It sounds like a long game.»
«It is. Two truly skilled players have been known to sit at a board for three days continuously, without food or sleep. A normal game can last six or seven hours.»
But this game would not last even a few hours, let alone several days. There would be no captures, only death, and the blood on the tiled squares would be entirely real.
The gongs died away. From behind him Blade heard the rustle of Lord Tsekuin's robes as he sat down. Then the man's voice rang out in the sudden silence of the chamber, loud enough to echo.
«Second spearman-Jufon move to square six-five.»
Both players devoted their first few moves to maneuvering their five pieces out toward the center of the board. The Hongshu seemed to prefer a more open formation, Lord Tsekuin a tight one. Blade suspected that was to make it easier for him to move into action against any of his five possible opponents. There were strategies in the regular game of Hu built around the first warrior in just that way. They made even more sense here.
After that came a quick series of another half-dozen moves, most of them unnecessarily intricate. When that was finished, the two clusters of warriors were almost exactly where they had started. Blade suspected the two players were trying to either impress or confuse each other with their skill at the more intricate moves of the game.
But both players were too experienced to let a show-off opponent's tricks bother them. When the sequence of moves was done, Blade shot a quick look behind him. Lord Tsekuin sat motionless in his chair, arms crossed on his chest, his face a mask as immobile as if it had been cast in bronze. Blade's respect for the doomed lord rose. Keeping that iron calm under the circumstances was admirable.
A long silent pause followed. The moment for the first blood was approaching. Blade knew that neither player was hesitating out of any fear of that moment. But now the price of a wrong move had suddenly risen. Now it could throw away a warrior of the hand, and perhaps the game.
It was the Hongshu's turn now. One of his swordsmen made a simple move out to the right. Simple- but it brought him to where one of Lord Tsekuin's spearmen could engage him by any of half a dozen moves.
The Hongshu had thrown out his challenge. Now the decision lay in Lord Tsekuin's hands. Blood now or later?
Lord Tsekuin rose to the challenge. He called out a move in clipped, cool tones. The spearman moved to engage. He was the youngest of the five dabuni in Tsekuin's hand. Could he have any chance against the Hongshu's swordsman?
His opponent was half again as large as the spearman and looked larger still. With a rasp of metal he drew his sword. The spearman's weapon rose into position and he dropped into fighting stance. The silence in the chamber deepened. The two opponents stood motionless, their weapons raised. From where Blade stood, he couldn't even see them breathe.
Suddenly the two frozen figures in the center of the chamber exploded in sound and movement. The
swordsman's weapon swung wide, leaving him open to the spearman's thrust. The spearpoint flashed forward. The sword whipped back as fast as it had swung out. Steel point and steel blade crashed against each other with an echoing clang that filled the chamber. The spearpoint dropped down, the sword blade rose up. It flicked out toward the young spearman, but he seemed to twist aside at the last second. He stood as his opponent pulled his sword back and raised it again. Blade wondered why the young man didn't turn back to face his opponent.
Then the spearman's point dropped further, to rest against the floor. His fingers opened and the spear clattered to the floor. A moment later the spearman followed it. As he struck the floor and lay full length on it, blood began to gush from the wound in his side, under his armpit. Blade looked more closely. The gash went in halfway through the chest. Had it gone straight into the heart, with that single split second blow?
As if to answer Blade's question, the spearman gave a final convulsive jerk, gurgled, coughed, and lay still. Blood trickled out of his mouth to join the spreading pool on the tiles.
Blade took a tighter grip on his own spear. That was a quick kill even by Gaikon's deadly standards. It now seemed quite likely that the Hongshu's dabuni were as skilled as they were big.
The Hongshu wore a smug, arrogant grin. Blade risked another look behind him, at Lord Tsekuin and Doifuzan. Then he looked again. Both men had their eyes fixed on the Hongshu. As his grin broadened, they began to have trouble keeping their own faces straight. Blade swung his eyes back across the body on the floor to the triumphant Hongshu. Then the light dawned
for him.
Lord Tsekuin had deliberately sacrificed the young spearman, who was after all the least important dabuno of his hand. He had cold-bloodedly sacrificed him to make the Hongshu overconfident, judging by the other man's expression, he had succeeded. And the young spearman had gone to his death with no regard for anything but his lord's orders, although he knew what was coming.
Blade suspected that there were two games being played today. There was the deadly master game of Hu here in the chamber. There was another, larger, deadlier game being played for far higher stakes all over Gaikon, of which this game of Hu might be only a part.
Blade clutched his spear so tightly in both hands that his knuckles stood out white. He managed to give a slight tremble to both his lower lip and his knees, and swallowed rapidly several times. He wanted to give the impression of a man suddenly realizing the deadly stakes of this game, and half- unnerved by his discovery. As he turned away from the two men behind him his eyes briefly met Doifuzan's. The old dabuno's lips flickered apart in a brief smile, one that the Hongshu would never see. Blade turned back to stare across the chamber at the enemy. The Hongshu was rubbing his hands on the knees of his white silk trousers, and the visible half of Lord Geron's face was split by a broad grin.
Good. They looked like men who would be half-blind with triumph and anticipation of an easy victory. Blade relaxed his grip on his spear and waited for Lord Tsekuin to announce his next move. He suspected it would bring him into the play.
He was wrong. Lord Tsekuin apparently decided it would help if he also acted like a man who had lost his self-control because of the death of the spearman. He indulged in a flurry of moves, simple and
complex, varying them without any apparent pattern. He didn't pay much attention to the Hongshu's responses, either. Blade hoped Lord Tsekuin wouldn't carry the act too far. If the Hongshu decided to move in for a quick victory while Tsekuin was doing his imitation of a frightened, indecisive man, things could get very nasty very quickly.
The Hongshu didn't. But then he was obviously one of those men who savored watching his enemy sweat in fear before striking. Here he couldn't wait two weeks before striking, as he had done before. But he could wait a few minutes, and then a few minutes more-and then a few minutes beyond that.
The minutes added up until nearly an hour had passed since the spearman's death. The aimless maneuvering went on, neither side pushing their warriors into a fight. Blade threw occasional looks behind him. Had Lord Tsekuin really lost his head and his skill? He began to wonder. But each time he looked, Doifuzan met his eyes with a faint smile or nod.
The maneuvering went on for a few minutes more. But now it had a purpose. One move at a time, Lord Tsekuin was shifting Blade. Soon he would be within a single move of battle with any of the Hongshu's five dabuni.
The ruler of Gaikon was too filled with anticipation of his easy victory to notice what was happening. Blade made his last necessary move. The Hongshu shifted a spearman in a minor move that still left him within range of Blade. Blade deliberately dropped his spear to keep up the act of being nervous and panicky.
Then behind him Blade heard Lord Tsekuin's voice.
«Sha move to square four-seven.» Three quick steps and Blade was facing the Hongshu's second swordsman. To Blade it seemed the room had suddenly become even quieter than before.
In a regular bout, Blade would have started a slow circle around his opponent, forcing him to shift position, testing his footwork, perhaps trying to disorient him. But here the fighters had to stay within their squares. All they could do was freeze into their stances and hold position, weapons aloft and ready, eyes watching for the slightest sign of an attack.
Blade was determined to wait and give his opponent the first blow. It was a gamble, since he couldn't leave the square to avoid his enemy's sword. But it was only a small gamble. Blade knew how fast he was. The other man didn't.
A slight flickering of the swordsman's arm muscles was all the warning Blade had. The sword leaped high, ready to slash down at Blade's skull. Then it leaped sideways and came whistling at Blade's side- or where Blade's side should have been. But Blade recognized the stroke-a clumsy version of Yezjaro's own «flying bird cut.» The defense against it was something built into his reflexes by long hours of practice against the instructor.
Blade sprang back on legs like steel springs. The tip of the sword whistled by, inches from his stomach. The sword swung wide. Blade leaped in again, holding the spear out to his right in a vertical guard. The return cut with the sword crashed into the spear shaft. Again the clash of metal echoed through the chamber. As the sword leaped up again, Blade drove the spear downward. The sharp edge of the spearhead slashed down the second swordsman's left leg from knee to ankle. Flesh gaped open
and blood sluiced down on to the floor.
The second swordsman let out a howl of surprise and pain and stared wide-eyed at Blade. He seemed bothered more by his opponent's unexpected skill than by his own wound. But he hadn't lost any courage. His sword whistled down again three times in rapid succession-left, right, right. But his aim was poor and his footwork slowed by the wound. Blade considered using the prongs on the spear to disarm the man the way he had disarmed Captain Jawai. But why bother? There was no need to put on a show here-just a well-done kill.
The sword rose again and seemed to hover edge-on in front of Blade. He raised the spear, holding it horizontally in front of him. The swordsman launched a cut at Blade's ribs. Blade sprang back, shifting to a one-handed grip on the spear. The massive muscles of his right arm snapped the spear horizontally forward, straight into the swordsman's throat. Flesh, blood vessels, windpipe parted as neatly as if Blade had swung a giant razor. Blade jerked the spear back. The swordsman stood for a moment, blood fountaining from his gaping neck, the life going out of his eyes. Then he fell, landing with a splat in the spreading pool of his own blood.
Blade pulled off his tunic, which had been spattered by the spraying blood of his opponent's death- wound. He wiped his bloody spearhead with it. Then he spread the tunic over the dead man's head, stepped back into the middle of his own square, and pounded his spearbutt three times on the floor.
It was the signal of victory. It was also the signal for a sudden flurry of murmuring and whispering. Blade was conscious that every eye in the room was fixed on him. Then the four survivors of the Hongshu's hand started looking at each other. Uncertainty was in their eyes.
Their master's voice slashed through the silence. «Why stand and gape, you fools? He who lies there did nothing worthy of a wise dabuno. He doomed himself by forgetting who had instructed his opponent. That was no true victory we saw. That was a fool's bungling suicide!»
The Hongshu's voice was loud and harsh. But Blade realized that he was trying to reassure himself more than his four dabuni. He was certainly not improving their spirits. Blade noticed sour looks on their faces, sour looks directed at their master.
Before the sour looks could turn into open rebellion, the Hongshu called out his move. Blade watched. Would he now send his first warrior or first swordsman forward against Blade?
Instead the first swordsman moved back and around, on to the flank of the first warrior. Blade was still within easy reach of both spearmen. Would Lord Tsekuin-?
Lord Tsekuin would. Blade found himself face-to-face with the opposing first spearman. He considered his next move.
The first two kills had been crude, at least by Gaikon's highest standards. How to make more of an impression with the next one? An impression not only on the Hongshu's mind, but also on the other three opposing dabuni?
Then Blade grinned. There was a standard technique in Gaikon spear-fighting. In the hands of the average dabuno, it was more spectacular than deadly. But Blade was not the average dabuno. His arms were stronger and his eyes and reflexes faster. He could make the «spectacle» turn deadly.
Blade stepped back, out of range of a quick thrust from his opponent. He raised the spear over his head, holding it horizontally in both hands. Then he began to whirl it, his hands shifting with steadily increasing speed. The spearman's eyes drifted up to the whirling spear. No doubt he knew perfectly well that such a whirling spear could not be stopped and thrust forward without giving more than enough warning to an opponent. So did the Hongshu. He could not keep a sneer off his face as he watched Blade's spear whirl and listened to the mounting hiss as it cut the air. If one of Lord Tsekuin's men was going to make a fool of himself this way, so much the better.
Once he had settled into a steady rhythm, Blade could keep a spear going like this for half an hour without thinking about it at all. He kept his eyes and mind focused on the spearman, with occasional glances at the Hongshu. He wanted to go on long enough to get everyone thinking he must be getting tired. Not long enough to really get tired, though. His one-shot kill might not come off. Years of single- combat experience told him to keep plenty of strength in reserve.
He whirled the spear faster. Now the hiss deepened into a drone, like a distant swarm of bees. He did not bother looking up. He knew that by this time the spear must be only a half-invisible blur above him, like a hummingbird's wings. Sweat began to trickle down his face and chest, and he felt the first twinges of strain in his, arm and wrist muscles. It wouldn't be long now.
Definitely it wouldn't be long now. The spearman was beginning to look speculatively at him and to shift his grip on his own weapon. Had he decided Blade was a madman, easily vulnerable? Time to change his mind, then.
Blade focused his attention on the spear for a moment. One, two, three, four more times around. Then his breath exploded out of him in a scream.
«Kiiiiy-a-a-ahhhhh!
The spear froze in midair. Before the spearman could blink an eye, Blade took the one step forward that brought him within thrusting range. The spearman's weapon jerked upward in a futile effort to guard. If the man had tried his own thrust, he might at least have taken Blade with him. As it was, his spear was still rising when Blade's spear drove
downward. It drove into the spearman's belly just below the ribs, drove through the spine with a sharp crack, and burst out his back in a spray of blood. Blade jerked the spear free and stepped away as the spearman collapsed backward. When the last convulsion subsided, Blade again wiped his spear on the dead man's trousers and turned to face the Hongshu.
This hadn't been quite as spectacular a kill as he might have managed. He had trained himself until he could bring a spear to a stop and pick off a fly on the wall. But why risk missing? The one blow had been struck and the spearman was dead. The Hongshu wasn't particularly happy about it, either. One hand was tightly clutching the arm of his chair, until Blade wondered if the hard black wood would collapse into sawdust under the pressure. He also had the look of a man trying to keep the shock he felt off his face.
Lord Tsekuin and Doifuzan were also fighting to keep their faces expressionless. They looked as though they wanted to throw aside their dignity and applaud or embrace Blade-or both at once.
The three surviving dabuni of the Hongshu's hand weren't even trying to look calm. They had seen
two of their comrades die under Blade's spear like rats in a dog's jaws. They couldn't avoid wondering who was next. Blade noticed the first warrior looking toward the Hongshu. His face showed a mixture of anticipation and fear. Blade guessed that this time it would be the Hongshu who forced the combat. Probably between the two first warriors.
Blade had guessed right. The Hongshu's first warrior was drawing his sword and raising it into position as he stepped forward. A simple move through four squares, and he stood in the square to Blade's right. Blade raised his spear and turned to face the man.
He was the largest of the Hongshu's outsized warriors, nearly six and a half feet tall. But there was no fat on his massive frame, only supple muscle. His feet moved with a delicacy and assurance that told Blade this man might be faster than he looked. Blade decided not to plan in advance any particular way of dealing with the first warrior. He would try a few exchanges first, to reveal the man's weaknesses, relying on his own speed to keep himself safe.
Blade almost wasn't fast enough. A sudden whuff, and the first warrior's sword split the air beside Blade's ear. A few inches closer, and it would have split his head as neatly as a grapefruit. Blade aimed a thrust at the man's thigh. The sword blocked the thrust, then smashed the spear aside with a blow that nearly tore it out of Blade's hands. If it had landed squarely instead of glancing, it would have chopped the spear in two.
This man definitely wasn't going to be as easy a victim as the first two. In fact, Blade wasn't even sure that the first warrior was going to be the victim at all. This was an opponent who could and would chop him in two if he slipped at all. Hope was written nakedly all over the Hongshu's face, and even the other two dabuni of the enemy's hand wore thin smiles.
The deadly dance went on. Blade soon realized that he couldn't tire this man out. He couldn't force him off-balance-the man handled his two hundred and fifty-plus pounds too well. He couldn't get through his guard with any thrust or stroke that wouldn't leave him dangerously vulnerable. Blade began to get the ugly feeling that this bout would go on and on and on, ending only when one man or the other got lucky.
That wasn't so good. Luck could work for either man. Obviously the two players knew that. Both the Hongshu and Lord Tsekuin wore identical expressions of frozen strain.
More exchanges of cuts and thrusts. Blade now had a small cut in one hip, his opponent an equally small one on his shoulder. Blade still couldn't see any pattern in his opponent's responses that would help him break through the man's guard. He was beginning to wonder if there was one.
Another deafening clang sounded as spear shaft met sword. The shock deflected Blade's spear upward, the point driving over the first warrior's head inches above his tightly bound hair. He didn't seem to notice it at all.
Blade licked dry lips and deliberately made his next thrust a high one, aiming over the head again. He almost aimed too high. The sword came through his open guard and nicked his ribs, and blood trickled again. But the first warrior didn't notice the direction of Blade's thrust.
A light dawned for Blade. The Hongshu's first warrior seemed to have trouble coping with attacks coming in above his eye level. Did he have vision trouble? Or was it just that he so seldom had to look
up at anything that it didn't occur to him to look up, even in a fight? Blade didn't care. He knew he had a possible opening.
If he was right. If he was wrong-but he couldn't take more time to confirm his guess. Many more high thrusts, and the first warrior might become aware of his own weak point and extend his guard. Then it would be back to the endless dance, waiting for luck to turn for one fighter or the other.
Blade stepped back. He dropped into a crouch that made him look as though he was planning a thrust into the first warrior's groin. Then he leaped straight up, legs uncoiling in a single snap of powerful muscles. He soared upward like an Olympic high jumper, six feet clear of the floor. At the top of his leap his spear lunged out and down.
The first warrior had just started to raise his eyes and sword to follow Blade when Blade's spear drove down at him. It drove down into him almost vertically between the collarbone and the top rib, plunging through until it came out at the small of his back. With Blade's full descending weight behind it, the spear smashed the first warrior backward onto the floor hard enough to crush his skull. Then Blade let go of the spear and came down with both feet on the fallen man's chest and stomach. He heard more grisly noises as the first warrior's ribs and internal organs gave under the impact of Blade's two hundred and ten pounds.
Blade stepped off the body, pulled out his spear, and backed away into the center of his own square. He had never inflicted so many fatal injuries on one opponent in such a short time.
The Hongshu also looked as though he had lost a good deal of blood. His face had turned the same dirty off-white as the chamber walls, and the hand he raised was shaking slightly.
«Honorable Lord Tsekuin,» he called out. His voice was shaking slightly also. «Do you consent that I yield the victory to you at this time?»
Lord Tsekuin's reply rang out loud enough to raise echoes.
«I do not consent. Let the game continue to the end.»
The Hongshu's face turned even whiter. His hand no longer trembled. Instead it looked to Blade as though the man was having to fight an urge to draw his sword and fly at Blade or Lord Tsekuin. Nothing but fear of what he might unleash by sweeping away law and custom like that seemed to be holding him back.
Then the tension that might have flashed into violence and chaos passed. The Hongshu sighed visibly, crossed his arms on his chest, and nodded.
«Then let the game continue.»
It took only another fifteen or twenty minutes before the last two dabuni of the Hongshu's hand joined their comrades on the floor. Neither really had the nerve left to defend themselves, and Blade didn't feel particularly good about killing either one. He understood why Lord Tsekuin might want to rub the Hongshu's nose in his defeat. But it still seemed like an ugly and meaningless butchery.
Silence returned to the chamber as the last of the Hongshu's fighters gave his death rattle and lay still.
Blade was conscious that the Hongshu's eyes were fixed on him more intently than before. Blade raised his spear in the formal salute and waited for the man to speak. ]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7644 Thu, 18 Jan 2024 19:00:26 +0000 Viking Mike]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7644
He roared with anger as blood poured down his leg.  I was now behind him.  I wrapped my left arm around his neck and drove my sword into his back.  He screamed and I saw his manhood stiffen and my blade exit his deep navel.  He dropped to his knees, grasping the bloody blade.  

I was stiff as well, and I rubbed it on his back.  I left my blade buried in his body.

"You bastard!" he screamed.

"Just remember, this is our day to die.  Now stand up!"

My opponent struggled to his feet.  I reached down and grabbed his manhood.  I jerked it a few times before I moved in front of him.  His penis was dripping with precum and the bloody blade looked so inviting.  

I touched his chiseled face and looked down. I suddenly pushed him against the wall.  He grunted and I could see the pain in his eyes. I held onto the wet blade and put the tip into my own navel. I forced my abs to contract as the blade sank into my guts.  

I let out a heavy grunt as the blade entered my body and I forced myself to come stomach to stomach with him.  Our cocks touched and I felt him tremble.  I suddenly felt a hot stream of cum explode over my lower belly.  I pushed my lips to his and came on his crotch.  

I took his sword and rammed it into his chest from under his left arm.  He inhaled sharply and his eyes widened on surprise and pain.

His head pulled back and he vomited blood all over us.  I pushed his sword all the way through his chest until the blade exited his collarbone.

He shuddered violently and I held him tightly.  I ripped the sword from his chest, and waited for him to die.  Suddenly, his legs gave out and we both fell.  My head bounced off the dirt floor. 

I was dizzy. Somehow, I managed to push myself free from the sword.  I looked down and saw my legs and crotch were awash in blood and cum.

I was weak from blood loss. I turned the short sword towards my chest, and in one quick thrust, drove the blade into my heart. Blood escaped my mouth and I struggled to breathe. I staggered and suddenly fell backwards like a tree being chopped down. My neck broke as my head hit the ground. I was paralyzed.  In my last moments, I stared at the darkening sky. I felt rain pelt my face and fill my mouth. I took my last breath and died as rain hit my eyes.]]>
He roared with anger as blood poured down his leg.  I was now behind him.  I wrapped my left arm around his neck and drove my sword into his back.  He screamed and I saw his manhood stiffen and my blade exit his deep navel.  He dropped to his knees, grasping the bloody blade.  

I was stiff as well, and I rubbed it on his back.  I left my blade buried in his body.

"You bastard!" he screamed.

"Just remember, this is our day to die.  Now stand up!"

My opponent struggled to his feet.  I reached down and grabbed his manhood.  I jerked it a few times before I moved in front of him.  His penis was dripping with precum and the bloody blade looked so inviting.  

I touched his chiseled face and looked down. I suddenly pushed him against the wall.  He grunted and I could see the pain in his eyes. I held onto the wet blade and put the tip into my own navel. I forced my abs to contract as the blade sank into my guts.  

I let out a heavy grunt as the blade entered my body and I forced myself to come stomach to stomach with him.  Our cocks touched and I felt him tremble.  I suddenly felt a hot stream of cum explode over my lower belly.  I pushed my lips to his and came on his crotch.  

I took his sword and rammed it into his chest from under his left arm.  He inhaled sharply and his eyes widened on surprise and pain.

His head pulled back and he vomited blood all over us.  I pushed his sword all the way through his chest until the blade exited his collarbone.

He shuddered violently and I held him tightly.  I ripped the sword from his chest, and waited for him to die.  Suddenly, his legs gave out and we both fell.  My head bounced off the dirt floor. 

I was dizzy. Somehow, I managed to push myself free from the sword.  I looked down and saw my legs and crotch were awash in blood and cum.

I was weak from blood loss. I turned the short sword towards my chest, and in one quick thrust, drove the blade into my heart. Blood escaped my mouth and I struggled to breathe. I staggered and suddenly fell backwards like a tree being chopped down. My neck broke as my head hit the ground. I was paralyzed.  In my last moments, I stared at the darkening sky. I felt rain pelt my face and fill my mouth. I took my last breath and died as rain hit my eyes.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7608 Fri, 29 Dec 2023 16:06:40 +0000 Viking Mike]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7608 I kicked at Artus with my right foot, landing a solid blow to his stomach.  He doubled over and fell to his knees, coughing.  That was when Xavier struck me from behind.
I felt the tip of his spear enter my back and I yelled in surprise and pain. I watched as his spear exited my muscled stomach through my navel. The bloody metal tip tore through my shallow navel and exposed about eight inches of wooden shaft.  I felt my knees give out.
"We have you now, Antonius," Artus coughed.
My cock began dripping pre-cum onto the hot sand. Xavier noticed, and then came up beside me.  He knelt beside me and grasped my throbbing manhood.  The crowd cheered as he began masturbating me, and I concentrated on getting off one last time instead of focusing on the pain in my belly.
"Make my death last.  Give the crowd a show."
Artus looked at me.  "I will, old friend."
I came at last, my sperm shooting across the sand. Satisfied at last, Xavier put his foot on my back and ripped the spear from my body.  I screamed, and I suddenly tasted blood.  I began coughing up blood, and I felt it drip onto my chest.  Artus swiped his sword across my stomach, splitting me open.  My intestines spilled onto the sand and I just stared at the bloody pile at my knees.
"Make it count," I said to him.  I puffed out my chest and closed my eyes.
Suddenly, I heard Artus yell and I felt his sword crash into my chest.  My heart was skewered by the blade, and I opened my eyes.  I gasped and our eyes locked.
"Be free, my friend," he whispered. 
He ripped his sword from my chest and I collapsed onto the sand. I tried to breathe, but it was impossible. I died seconds later as the crowd cheered.]]> I kicked at Artus with my right foot, landing a solid blow to his stomach.  He doubled over and fell to his knees, coughing.  That was when Xavier struck me from behind.
I felt the tip of his spear enter my back and I yelled in surprise and pain. I watched as his spear exited my muscled stomach through my navel. The bloody metal tip tore through my shallow navel and exposed about eight inches of wooden shaft.  I felt my knees give out.
"We have you now, Antonius," Artus coughed.
My cock began dripping pre-cum onto the hot sand. Xavier noticed, and then came up beside me.  He knelt beside me and grasped my throbbing manhood.  The crowd cheered as he began masturbating me, and I concentrated on getting off one last time instead of focusing on the pain in my belly.
"Make my death last.  Give the crowd a show."
Artus looked at me.  "I will, old friend."
I came at last, my sperm shooting across the sand. Satisfied at last, Xavier put his foot on my back and ripped the spear from my body.  I screamed, and I suddenly tasted blood.  I began coughing up blood, and I felt it drip onto my chest.  Artus swiped his sword across my stomach, splitting me open.  My intestines spilled onto the sand and I just stared at the bloody pile at my knees.
"Make it count," I said to him.  I puffed out my chest and closed my eyes.
Suddenly, I heard Artus yell and I felt his sword crash into my chest.  My heart was skewered by the blade, and I opened my eyes.  I gasped and our eyes locked.
"Be free, my friend," he whispered. 
He ripped his sword from my chest and I collapsed onto the sand. I tried to breathe, but it was impossible. I died seconds later as the crowd cheered.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7517 Fri, 06 Oct 2023 21:26:25 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7517 "uuhnh!" grunted Paul as Bob pulled the knife out and stepped back.
Paul clenched his teeth and held his sword ready again.  Paul thrust his sword toward Bob's chest, but Bob stepped to the side and drove his knife to the hilt in the middle of Paul's rounded belly about an inch above his belly button.
"Ohh!" grunted Paul as Bob pulled the knife out and stepped back.
Paul looked down at the blood running down his belly and shook his head.  Paul steeled himself and raised his sword again.  Paul swung wildly at Bob and Bob darted to the side and slid his knife in on the right side of Paul's navel.
"Oohhh!" groaned Paul as Bob twisted the knife, then pulled it out.
Paul's legs were unsteady as he raised his sword again.
"Stop sticking that thing in my gut.  If you're going to stab me, make it fatal." said Paul through clenched teeth.
"I already have, it just takes a while to die from those wounds." said Bob.
Paul thrust toward Bob's belly, but Bob blocked it and slid his knife in on the left side of Paul's navel.
"Yaaahh!" screamed Paul as Bob turned the knife back and forth, then pulled it out.
Paul could barely stand up and struggled to hold his sword up.
"Stop it!  Stop it!  Stop it!  If you're going to kill me, do it.  Don't drag it out like this." said Paul angrily.
Paul raised his sword and Bob lowered the point of his to touched Paul's stiff dick.
"Maybe I should just cut it off?" asked Bob and a stream of cum shot out of Paul's member.
Paul took a step forward and dropped his sword.
"I'm done.  I!  I! can't breathe." gasped Paul.
Bob put the point of his knife below Paul's sternum and slid it up under his ribs.
"Acck!" gagged Paul as he drew to his full height and a thick rope of cum came out of his dick.
Paul fell back with his eyes wide.  He lay flat on his back gasping for a few seconds, then he stopped breathing and his dick lay down flat on his belly.  Bob stepped back and raised his sword over his head.  The Gamesmaster gave a signal to his archers.  Bob's eyes widened as he was forced back by the impacts of twelve arrows as they hit his upper abdomen tracing the arch of his ribs cage.
"Son of a..." gasped Bob.
Twelve more arrows punched into his vulnerable stretched belly and Bob grimaced in pain as cum shot out of his dick.
"But I won." groaned Bob as he fell back.
Blood ran from the corner of Bob's mouth as his dick lowered onto his belly.  After their bodies were taken from the bloody arena floor the Gamesmaster came to the holding area and personally sliced off each of their members to be bronzed and mounted in his trophy room under pictures of the gladiators when they were alive and pictures of their death poses.]]> "uuhnh!" grunted Paul as Bob pulled the knife out and stepped back.
Paul clenched his teeth and held his sword ready again.  Paul thrust his sword toward Bob's chest, but Bob stepped to the side and drove his knife to the hilt in the middle of Paul's rounded belly about an inch above his belly button.
"Ohh!" grunted Paul as Bob pulled the knife out and stepped back.
Paul looked down at the blood running down his belly and shook his head.  Paul steeled himself and raised his sword again.  Paul swung wildly at Bob and Bob darted to the side and slid his knife in on the right side of Paul's navel.
"Oohhh!" groaned Paul as Bob twisted the knife, then pulled it out.
Paul's legs were unsteady as he raised his sword again.
"Stop sticking that thing in my gut.  If you're going to stab me, make it fatal." said Paul through clenched teeth.
"I already have, it just takes a while to die from those wounds." said Bob.
Paul thrust toward Bob's belly, but Bob blocked it and slid his knife in on the left side of Paul's navel.
"Yaaahh!" screamed Paul as Bob turned the knife back and forth, then pulled it out.
Paul could barely stand up and struggled to hold his sword up.
"Stop it!  Stop it!  Stop it!  If you're going to kill me, do it.  Don't drag it out like this." said Paul angrily.
Paul raised his sword and Bob lowered the point of his to touched Paul's stiff dick.
"Maybe I should just cut it off?" asked Bob and a stream of cum shot out of Paul's member.
Paul took a step forward and dropped his sword.
"I'm done.  I!  I! can't breathe." gasped Paul.
Bob put the point of his knife below Paul's sternum and slid it up under his ribs.
"Acck!" gagged Paul as he drew to his full height and a thick rope of cum came out of his dick.
Paul fell back with his eyes wide.  He lay flat on his back gasping for a few seconds, then he stopped breathing and his dick lay down flat on his belly.  Bob stepped back and raised his sword over his head.  The Gamesmaster gave a signal to his archers.  Bob's eyes widened as he was forced back by the impacts of twelve arrows as they hit his upper abdomen tracing the arch of his ribs cage.
"Son of a..." gasped Bob.
Twelve more arrows punched into his vulnerable stretched belly and Bob grimaced in pain as cum shot out of his dick.
"But I won." groaned Bob as he fell back.
Blood ran from the corner of Bob's mouth as his dick lowered onto his belly.  After their bodies were taken from the bloody arena floor the Gamesmaster came to the holding area and personally sliced off each of their members to be bronzed and mounted in his trophy room under pictures of the gladiators when they were alive and pictures of their death poses.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7502 Fri, 22 Sep 2023 14:32:07 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7502 "Ooops!" said Bob as his the three tines on his trident went deep into George's belly below his navel.
"Yaaaaahhhhhh!" shrieked George as he bent over a little and cum shot out of his dick.
Bob put his foot on George's belly and pushed him back as he pulled the trident out.  Bob took George's knife from his hand, turned it, and slid it to the hilt in George's vertical slit of a belly button.
"I've always wanted to do that." said Bob as he stepped back.
Bob raised his trident and pushed the three points into George's chest.
"Why?" asked George as blood trailed from the corner of his mouth.
"I got you in the gut, this just speeds it up." said Bob.
He turned the trident a little to rip and tear at George's lungs.  George's eyes rolled upward as he fell back off the trident.  A thick rope of cum shot up out of his dick, then it lay down flat on his bloody belly.  Bob gulped as he turned back to Paul, realizing they were the final two.]]> "Ooops!" said Bob as his the three tines on his trident went deep into George's belly below his navel.
"Yaaaaahhhhhh!" shrieked George as he bent over a little and cum shot out of his dick.
Bob put his foot on George's belly and pushed him back as he pulled the trident out.  Bob took George's knife from his hand, turned it, and slid it to the hilt in George's vertical slit of a belly button.
"I've always wanted to do that." said Bob as he stepped back.
Bob raised his trident and pushed the three points into George's chest.
"Why?" asked George as blood trailed from the corner of his mouth.
"I got you in the gut, this just speeds it up." said Bob.
He turned the trident a little to rip and tear at George's lungs.  George's eyes rolled upward as he fell back off the trident.  A thick rope of cum shot up out of his dick, then it lay down flat on his bloody belly.  Bob gulped as he turned back to Paul, realizing they were the final two.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7490 Fri, 08 Sep 2023 04:29:18 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7490 "You don't really think you'll win do you?" asked Jason as he easily parried all of George's attacks.
Jason sounded confident, but he was backing up, trying to find a way to get under George's defenses and end the fight quickly.  George made a quick thrust toward Jason's chest and Jason parried the blow and leaned into George's sword, locking the blades together.
"Now one quick twist and you lose your sword." said Jason.
Jason was beginning to turn his wrist when George brought up his left hand with the knife and made a quick shallow cut across the back of Jason's thumb on his right hand.  Jason let out a cry of pain as let go of his sword.
"Oh that's dirty.  It's a superficial wound, but it keeps me from holding a sword." complained Jason.
Jason looked down at George lay the point of his knife lightly in Jason's big belly button.
"You wouldn't." said Jason hopefully.
Jason closed his eyes tightly and stiffened as the point slid into the back of his navel.
"You did." groaned Jason as his dick stiffened again.
With a quick turn of his hand George cut out the back of Jason's navel.
"Oh no!  No no no!" screamed Jason as George stuck his finger into the wound.
Jason's eyes widened and his mouth fell open as George pulled out a loop of his small intestine.  Jason could do nothing more than scream as George ran away across the arena.  Jason couldn't believe the deafening roar of the crowd as they watched his guts unfurl out in front of him.  Jason coughed and blood leapt over his lower lip.
"Ohh!" groaned Jason as he fell to his knees.
Jason fell over on his side and cum shot out of his dick as his eyes rolled upward.  George smiled as he dropped the piece of intestine he held and turned his attention back to Paul and Bob who were too busy fighting each other to see what had happened.]]> "You don't really think you'll win do you?" asked Jason as he easily parried all of George's attacks.
Jason sounded confident, but he was backing up, trying to find a way to get under George's defenses and end the fight quickly.  George made a quick thrust toward Jason's chest and Jason parried the blow and leaned into George's sword, locking the blades together.
"Now one quick twist and you lose your sword." said Jason.
Jason was beginning to turn his wrist when George brought up his left hand with the knife and made a quick shallow cut across the back of Jason's thumb on his right hand.  Jason let out a cry of pain as let go of his sword.
"Oh that's dirty.  It's a superficial wound, but it keeps me from holding a sword." complained Jason.
Jason looked down at George lay the point of his knife lightly in Jason's big belly button.
"You wouldn't." said Jason hopefully.
Jason closed his eyes tightly and stiffened as the point slid into the back of his navel.
"You did." groaned Jason as his dick stiffened again.
With a quick turn of his hand George cut out the back of Jason's navel.
"Oh no!  No no no!" screamed Jason as George stuck his finger into the wound.
Jason's eyes widened and his mouth fell open as George pulled out a loop of his small intestine.  Jason could do nothing more than scream as George ran away across the arena.  Jason couldn't believe the deafening roar of the crowd as they watched his guts unfurl out in front of him.  Jason coughed and blood leapt over his lower lip.
"Ohh!" groaned Jason as he fell to his knees.
Jason fell over on his side and cum shot out of his dick as his eyes rolled upward.  George smiled as he dropped the piece of intestine he held and turned his attention back to Paul and Bob who were too busy fighting each other to see what had happened.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7477 Sat, 26 Aug 2023 08:45:25 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7477 "I'm only here because my brother talked me into this barbaric game.  Then he got butchered without even a chance to defend himself.  I'm done." shouted Peter at the top of his voice.
The gamesmaster just yawned as the crowd began to shout in unison:
"Archers!  Archers!  Archers!"
The gamesmaster waved his hand toward a ring of archers around the edge of the stadium.  Shunk.  Shunk.  Peter took a step forward, arched his back, and let out an unintelligible shriek of pain as arrows hit the middle of his back, driving into his kidneys.  Thump.  Peter's eyes snapped open wide, his mouth fell open, his dick stiffened, and shot cum out across the arena as an arrow hit about an inch above his navel in the middle of his stretched taut belly
"No!  No!  Noo!" groaned Peter as he took a staggering step back.
Shump.  Shump.  Peter closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth as arrows came in from both sides and hit the soft part of his sides below his ribs and above his hips.  Peter was the only one that heard the arrowheads clank together inside his belly.  Jason put his foot under Jerry's fallen spear and flipped up into his hands.
"Hey, Pete, remember what you wanted to see done to me?" asked Jason.
Before Peter could react Jason put the point of the spear in Peter's deep quarter sized navel and pushed.
"Ooooooo!" gasped Peter as he bent a little and a thick rope of cum shot out of his dick.
Peter let out a sick mewling sound as Jason twisted the spear, grinding at Peter's guts.  Jason pulled the arrows out of Peter's back and used the spear to push Peter back beside Jerry.  Peter fell to a seated position, then Jason pushed him back where he lay bent back across Jerry's belly.  He gave the spear a hard push, which drove the point out of Peter's back and into Jerry's guts.  Jason picked up his sword and walked back to Peter.
"If I had to time I would arrange you in a 69 position, the way you two spent nine months together, but this will do." said Jason as he put the point of his sword over Peter's heart.
"I hope they pull your intestines out through your navel." spat Peter.
Jason smiled as he anticipated the kill and cum squirted out of his dick on Peter's chest.
"Huuulhhhh!" grunted Peter as Jason leaned into the sword.
Peter's eyes widened as his lower lip quivered a little.  Cum squirted out of his dick as his eyes rolled upward.  Jason gave the sword a little twist and blood ran from the corner of Peter's mouth as his stiff dick lay down flat on his belly.  Jason gave the spear another twist, but neither brother reacted.]]> "I'm only here because my brother talked me into this barbaric game.  Then he got butchered without even a chance to defend himself.  I'm done." shouted Peter at the top of his voice.
The gamesmaster just yawned as the crowd began to shout in unison:
"Archers!  Archers!  Archers!"
The gamesmaster waved his hand toward a ring of archers around the edge of the stadium.  Shunk.  Shunk.  Peter took a step forward, arched his back, and let out an unintelligible shriek of pain as arrows hit the middle of his back, driving into his kidneys.  Thump.  Peter's eyes snapped open wide, his mouth fell open, his dick stiffened, and shot cum out across the arena as an arrow hit about an inch above his navel in the middle of his stretched taut belly
"No!  No!  Noo!" groaned Peter as he took a staggering step back.
Shump.  Shump.  Peter closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth as arrows came in from both sides and hit the soft part of his sides below his ribs and above his hips.  Peter was the only one that heard the arrowheads clank together inside his belly.  Jason put his foot under Jerry's fallen spear and flipped up into his hands.
"Hey, Pete, remember what you wanted to see done to me?" asked Jason.
Before Peter could react Jason put the point of the spear in Peter's deep quarter sized navel and pushed.
"Ooooooo!" gasped Peter as he bent a little and a thick rope of cum shot out of his dick.
Peter let out a sick mewling sound as Jason twisted the spear, grinding at Peter's guts.  Jason pulled the arrows out of Peter's back and used the spear to push Peter back beside Jerry.  Peter fell to a seated position, then Jason pushed him back where he lay bent back across Jerry's belly.  He gave the spear a hard push, which drove the point out of Peter's back and into Jerry's guts.  Jason picked up his sword and walked back to Peter.
"If I had to time I would arrange you in a 69 position, the way you two spent nine months together, but this will do." said Jason as he put the point of his sword over Peter's heart.
"I hope they pull your intestines out through your navel." spat Peter.
Jason smiled as he anticipated the kill and cum squirted out of his dick on Peter's chest.
"Huuulhhhh!" grunted Peter as Jason leaned into the sword.
Peter's eyes widened as his lower lip quivered a little.  Cum squirted out of his dick as his eyes rolled upward.  Jason gave the sword a little twist and blood ran from the corner of Peter's mouth as his stiff dick lay down flat on his belly.  Jason gave the spear another twist, but neither brother reacted.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7458 Fri, 18 Aug 2023 12:29:26 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7458 "We'll watch each others back as long as we can." said Jerry.
Jason grabbed the end of Jerry's spear below the spear head and kicked Peter in the gut.
"Ooohh!" groaned Peter as he bent over and stumbled back.
"I don't think that's going to be very long." said Jason as he put the point of his sword above Jerry's outie navel at a spot between four muscles showed in Jerry's washboard stomach.
"Awh no!" groaned Jerry.
Jason smiled as he gave the sword a little push, sending the cold steel into Jerry's warm belly.  On the giant screens above the arena the spectators could plainly see as cum shot out of Jason's dick, and when the sword went into Jerry cum spurted out of his dick as well.  Jerry's eyes closed tightly and his mouth fell open as Jason twisted the sword around.
"No no no!" gasped Jerry.
"Oh yes yes yes." said Jason as more cum shot from his dick.
Jason pulled the sword out and put the bloody point below Jerry's belly button at his waist.
"Stop!  Please stop!" gasped Jerry.
Jerry let out a little squeal and a thick rope of cum shot out of his dick as Jason slid the blade into his belly.  Jerry fell to his knees, then let out a whimpering cry as Jason twisted the sword again.  Jerry's lower lip trembled as he looked up at Jason when the sword pulled out.
"Just finish it.  I can't take this pain." groaned Jerry.
Jason put the sword point over Jerry's heart and smiled.  Jason's dick pulsed and spurted more cum out onto Jerry's belly as he anticipated the death blow.  Jason leaned his weight into the sword.  Jerry's eyes widened and his mouth opened a little.
"Oh!" gasped Jerry as the point went through his heart.
A thick rope of cum shot out of Jerry's dick as he looked down.  Jerry fell back off the sword and his legs kicked out from under him.  His belly jerked up and down a couple of times as he gasped for air, then another quick spurt of cum and his still stiff dick lay down flat on his still belly.
"Noooo!" screamed Peter as he realized his brother was dead.]]> "We'll watch each others back as long as we can." said Jerry.
Jason grabbed the end of Jerry's spear below the spear head and kicked Peter in the gut.
"Ooohh!" groaned Peter as he bent over and stumbled back.
"I don't think that's going to be very long." said Jason as he put the point of his sword above Jerry's outie navel at a spot between four muscles showed in Jerry's washboard stomach.
"Awh no!" groaned Jerry.
Jason smiled as he gave the sword a little push, sending the cold steel into Jerry's warm belly.  On the giant screens above the arena the spectators could plainly see as cum shot out of Jason's dick, and when the sword went into Jerry cum spurted out of his dick as well.  Jerry's eyes closed tightly and his mouth fell open as Jason twisted the sword around.
"No no no!" gasped Jerry.
"Oh yes yes yes." said Jason as more cum shot from his dick.
Jason pulled the sword out and put the bloody point below Jerry's belly button at his waist.
"Stop!  Please stop!" gasped Jerry.
Jerry let out a little squeal and a thick rope of cum shot out of his dick as Jason slid the blade into his belly.  Jerry fell to his knees, then let out a whimpering cry as Jason twisted the sword again.  Jerry's lower lip trembled as he looked up at Jason when the sword pulled out.
"Just finish it.  I can't take this pain." groaned Jerry.
Jason put the sword point over Jerry's heart and smiled.  Jason's dick pulsed and spurted more cum out onto Jerry's belly as he anticipated the death blow.  Jason leaned his weight into the sword.  Jerry's eyes widened and his mouth opened a little.
"Oh!" gasped Jerry as the point went through his heart.
A thick rope of cum shot out of Jerry's dick as he looked down.  Jerry fell back off the sword and his legs kicked out from under him.  His belly jerked up and down a couple of times as he gasped for air, then another quick spurt of cum and his still stiff dick lay down flat on his still belly.
"Noooo!" screamed Peter as he realized his brother was dead.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7446 Wed, 09 Aug 2023 18:01:59 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7446 "Are you ready to take it little brother?" whispered Jerry.
"No, not really.  I just hope I live long enough to see Jason get something stuck in that big belly button." said Peter.
"Yours makes a pretty good target too, Jerry." said George.
Peter adjusted his glasses and let out a little groan.  The gamesmaster stood up from his throne and picked up a microphone:
"Combatants, you may choose any weapon from the wall that you want to use.  The only rules are that you must fight, and you must fight until there is only one left alive."
The Gamesmaster nodded to a man beside him and he blew a trumpet to signal the beginning of the fight.]]> "Are you ready to take it little brother?" whispered Jerry.
"No, not really.  I just hope I live long enough to see Jason get something stuck in that big belly button." said Peter.
"Yours makes a pretty good target too, Jerry." said George.
Peter adjusted his glasses and let out a little groan.  The gamesmaster stood up from his throne and picked up a microphone:
"Combatants, you may choose any weapon from the wall that you want to use.  The only rules are that you must fight, and you must fight until there is only one left alive."
The Gamesmaster nodded to a man beside him and he blew a trumpet to signal the beginning of the fight.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7082 Sat, 12 Nov 2022 15:03:12 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=7082 "That's not fair, you know I'm afraid of high places." panted Peter as he leaned against the trunk of the tree.
He stood there as still as he could with his slender body glistening with sweat.  His only movements were his baby blue eyes as he glanced around the woods and his belly pumping in and out as he panted heavily.  It had been less than a hour when he and Jerome were at the river swimming when they heard the attack.  Jerome had grabbed his sword on the run and Peter had paused only to pick up his bow and a quiver full of arrows.  They crested the hill to see the village below in  a stage of chaos.  A few of the villagers had swords, but most carried pitchforks or axes for weapons against a small army of soldiers dressed in a black armor.
"Give us the Warrior woman and we'll let the rest of you live as slaves." shouted the leader so loud that the twins could hear it on the top of the hill.  Something small and round came from the side of the village.  It hit one of the soldiers in the side of the head and knocked him down, bounced to another to slit his throat, hit another in the chest and knocked him off his feet, then bounced off the lintel of a hut to return to the side of the village where it was caught by a small woman dressed, barely, in green.  She had reddish blonde hair down to her shoulders, a short green top, green skirt, and brown leather boots.  She slipped the round weapon back onto her belt and spun sais in her hands as she moved toward the soldiers.  As the soldiers swarmed toward the woman, the villagers attacked.  The red head was holding her own against the horde, but the villagers were no match for the trained soldiers.  Peter winced as he watched his friend George go down with a sword through his belly.  Another of his friends Donald raised his sword to strike down at a soldier only to have the soldier stick a knife in at the top of his belt and yank it up until it came out under Donald's chin.  Donald let out an awful shriek as his insides fell out and he fell beside them.  In spite of her skill, the soldiers were beginning to close in on the warrior.  She kicked one of them away as she drove her sai into another soldier's chest.  A look of dismay came across her face as the blade broke off inside the man's armor as he fell.  She threw her other sai and it drove deep into one of the lieutenant's belly.  She reached over her shoulder and pulled a sword out of a scabard on her back.  The metal seemed so sing as she beheaded three soldiers in one swing.  The soldiers paused and backed away as if they recognized the sword and feared it now as much as its wielder.  One of the soldier's regained his courage and ran toward her.  His reward was a belly full of steel as she ran him through, then kicked him in the chest to get his body off her sword.  She drew her sword back to strike again, but a rope coiled around her wrist.  As she looked at her wrist to try and free herself, the leader moved in and punched her in the face.  The red head spun to the ground and the sword fell beside her.  The villagers were rounded up and those that did not resist were bound and put in a pen near where the warrior woman had fallen.  Some of the soldiers pulled her up and tied her spread eagle between two posts.  The leader drew a bucket of water from the fountain in the middle of the village and threw it in her face.
"They're going to torture her." said Jerome.
"Not if I can help it." said Peter as he lay an arrow on his bow.
When the warrior woman regained consciousness the leader of the army pulled her sai out of his dead lieutenant's belly.  She stood motionless as he came closer to her, then slid the blade into her belly button.  At the top of the hill the twins could hear the scream that came from her mouth:
"Xeeeeennaaaaaaaaaaa!"
"Xena?  Wasn't she rumored to have died three years ago in the far east?" asked Peter.
"Then that must be Gabrielle.  It sounds like she's ready to meet her old mentor." said Jerome.
"There were some rumors that she was more that that." said Peter with a little smile.
The leader of the army lit a torch and walked toward the suffering warrior.
"We can't let them burn her alive." said Jerome.
Peter drew his arrow back and took careful aim.  The leader was about to light the funeral pyre when an arrow hit between the warrior woman's sixth and seventh ribs.  Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, then she slumped down.
"Find that archer and make him suffer." screamed the leader as he threw the torch into an empty hut.
Jerome threw down his sword and Peter threw down his bow and arrow and they both ran:
"Can you see anything up there?" asked Peter.
"Nothing.  I think we're safe." said Jerome.
Shump.  Shump.  Jerome stiffened as one arrow drove his outie belly button all the way back to his spine while another sank deep into the middle of his long lean belly.  Peter looked up at his brother, who was teetering on a tree limb.  Shump.
"Nooooo!" screamed Jerome as an arrow hit just above his loin cloth and caused so much pain that he bent double.  He fell from the tree and rolled over on his back.  Peter could tell from the wide eyes slack jawed expression Jerome's face that his brother had broken his neck in the fall and was dead.  Sh-thump.  Peter stiffened as three arrows found their mark in his big deep belly button.
"Ooooooo!" groaned Peter as he stumbled back and leaned against a tree.
Shump.  Shump.  Shump.
"Oooohhh!" screamed Peter as three arrows hid the middle of his belly.
Shump.  Shump.  Peter fell to his knees as arrows hit his strong thighs.  Peter shook his head as he looked down.
"Just let me die.  Please just let me die." whimpered Peter.
Shump.  Peter closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth as an arrow hit between his loin cloth and his belly button.  Peter opened his eyes to see the leader of the army in front of him.
"For three years I have looked for that accursed Warrior Woman.  Now you stole my chance at taking her heart, so you will have to take her place." he said.
He put his fingers below Peter's sternum.  Peter let out a whimper as he pushed his fingers into his body and up under his ribs.  Peter's blue eyes widened as the leader pulled out his heart.  The arrows in Peter's body vanished and he struggled to his feet.
"Now you will wonder the earth for all eternity forever feeling the pain of those arrows and doing my bidding.  Maybe if you're a good soldier one day I'll give your heart back to you, so you can die." said the leader as he put Peter's heart in a wooden box held by one of his soldiers.
"Welcome to the army of the dead." laughed the leader as Peter shuddered from the agony running through his body.]]> "That's not fair, you know I'm afraid of high places." panted Peter as he leaned against the trunk of the tree.
He stood there as still as he could with his slender body glistening with sweat.  His only movements were his baby blue eyes as he glanced around the woods and his belly pumping in and out as he panted heavily.  It had been less than a hour when he and Jerome were at the river swimming when they heard the attack.  Jerome had grabbed his sword on the run and Peter had paused only to pick up his bow and a quiver full of arrows.  They crested the hill to see the village below in  a stage of chaos.  A few of the villagers had swords, but most carried pitchforks or axes for weapons against a small army of soldiers dressed in a black armor.
"Give us the Warrior woman and we'll let the rest of you live as slaves." shouted the leader so loud that the twins could hear it on the top of the hill.  Something small and round came from the side of the village.  It hit one of the soldiers in the side of the head and knocked him down, bounced to another to slit his throat, hit another in the chest and knocked him off his feet, then bounced off the lintel of a hut to return to the side of the village where it was caught by a small woman dressed, barely, in green.  She had reddish blonde hair down to her shoulders, a short green top, green skirt, and brown leather boots.  She slipped the round weapon back onto her belt and spun sais in her hands as she moved toward the soldiers.  As the soldiers swarmed toward the woman, the villagers attacked.  The red head was holding her own against the horde, but the villagers were no match for the trained soldiers.  Peter winced as he watched his friend George go down with a sword through his belly.  Another of his friends Donald raised his sword to strike down at a soldier only to have the soldier stick a knife in at the top of his belt and yank it up until it came out under Donald's chin.  Donald let out an awful shriek as his insides fell out and he fell beside them.  In spite of her skill, the soldiers were beginning to close in on the warrior.  She kicked one of them away as she drove her sai into another soldier's chest.  A look of dismay came across her face as the blade broke off inside the man's armor as he fell.  She threw her other sai and it drove deep into one of the lieutenant's belly.  She reached over her shoulder and pulled a sword out of a scabard on her back.  The metal seemed so sing as she beheaded three soldiers in one swing.  The soldiers paused and backed away as if they recognized the sword and feared it now as much as its wielder.  One of the soldier's regained his courage and ran toward her.  His reward was a belly full of steel as she ran him through, then kicked him in the chest to get his body off her sword.  She drew her sword back to strike again, but a rope coiled around her wrist.  As she looked at her wrist to try and free herself, the leader moved in and punched her in the face.  The red head spun to the ground and the sword fell beside her.  The villagers were rounded up and those that did not resist were bound and put in a pen near where the warrior woman had fallen.  Some of the soldiers pulled her up and tied her spread eagle between two posts.  The leader drew a bucket of water from the fountain in the middle of the village and threw it in her face.
"They're going to torture her." said Jerome.
"Not if I can help it." said Peter as he lay an arrow on his bow.
When the warrior woman regained consciousness the leader of the army pulled her sai out of his dead lieutenant's belly.  She stood motionless as he came closer to her, then slid the blade into her belly button.  At the top of the hill the twins could hear the scream that came from her mouth:
"Xeeeeennaaaaaaaaaaa!"
"Xena?  Wasn't she rumored to have died three years ago in the far east?" asked Peter.
"Then that must be Gabrielle.  It sounds like she's ready to meet her old mentor." said Jerome.
"There were some rumors that she was more that that." said Peter with a little smile.
The leader of the army lit a torch and walked toward the suffering warrior.
"We can't let them burn her alive." said Jerome.
Peter drew his arrow back and took careful aim.  The leader was about to light the funeral pyre when an arrow hit between the warrior woman's sixth and seventh ribs.  Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, then she slumped down.
"Find that archer and make him suffer." screamed the leader as he threw the torch into an empty hut.
Jerome threw down his sword and Peter threw down his bow and arrow and they both ran:
"Can you see anything up there?" asked Peter.
"Nothing.  I think we're safe." said Jerome.
Shump.  Shump.  Jerome stiffened as one arrow drove his outie belly button all the way back to his spine while another sank deep into the middle of his long lean belly.  Peter looked up at his brother, who was teetering on a tree limb.  Shump.
"Nooooo!" screamed Jerome as an arrow hit just above his loin cloth and caused so much pain that he bent double.  He fell from the tree and rolled over on his back.  Peter could tell from the wide eyes slack jawed expression Jerome's face that his brother had broken his neck in the fall and was dead.  Sh-thump.  Peter stiffened as three arrows found their mark in his big deep belly button.
"Ooooooo!" groaned Peter as he stumbled back and leaned against a tree.
Shump.  Shump.  Shump.
"Oooohhh!" screamed Peter as three arrows hid the middle of his belly.
Shump.  Shump.  Peter fell to his knees as arrows hit his strong thighs.  Peter shook his head as he looked down.
"Just let me die.  Please just let me die." whimpered Peter.
Shump.  Peter closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth as an arrow hit between his loin cloth and his belly button.  Peter opened his eyes to see the leader of the army in front of him.
"For three years I have looked for that accursed Warrior Woman.  Now you stole my chance at taking her heart, so you will have to take her place." he said.
He put his fingers below Peter's sternum.  Peter let out a whimper as he pushed his fingers into his body and up under his ribs.  Peter's blue eyes widened as the leader pulled out his heart.  The arrows in Peter's body vanished and he struggled to his feet.
"Now you will wonder the earth for all eternity forever feeling the pain of those arrows and doing my bidding.  Maybe if you're a good soldier one day I'll give your heart back to you, so you can die." said the leader as he put Peter's heart in a wooden box held by one of his soldiers.
"Welcome to the army of the dead." laughed the leader as Peter shuddered from the agony running through his body.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=6979 Wed, 21 Sep 2022 20:05:33 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=6979 "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.]]> "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.]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=6557 Wed, 23 Mar 2022 13:08:06 +0000 TheSilverGhost]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=6557 https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=5975 Sun, 24 Oct 2021 09:53:24 +0000 jim825]]> https://arenafighter.adult/mybb/showthread.php?tid=5975
The Weyland boys were left alone for the weekend as their parents and younger sister left for a trip to Dodge City that would last five days. Jason was 19 years old and ruggedly looking and his younger brother Joey was 17 and equally tough in appearance yet maintained his fresh boy-like charm.


After splashing about in the cooling water for a few minutes the brothers emerged from pool naked as the day they were born. The water had plastered down the thick crop of hair on Jason’s powerful chest and taunt abs making it even more pronounced and Joey tried hard not to notice his brother’s manliness. But it was a failed effort as the 17 year old’s cock began to swell as he took in the sight. Jason cast a glance at his little brother who he had not seen naked in a while and noticed with pleasure that Joey wasn’t a “little” boy anymore. Though Joey’s chest and belly were not as hairy as his brother’s he was beginning to sport soft tuft of hair growth between his pecs and a neat oval pattern of fur encircled his deep innie navel the kid was also sporting an impressive piece of manhood between his thighs.

Jason reached out and gave Joey’s hardening dick a swat that made the teenager’s cock go bobbing side to side as Jason said, “Liking what you see lil brother?”

Joey blushed and tried to hide his excitement to no avail then repeated the same move to Jason giving the 19 year old’s cock a friendly swat that made it bounce around as it jutted out from a massive forest of thick pubes.

“No more than you are BIG brother!” Joey said.

Living alone on the plains with lack of female companionship was getting tough for both boys to take and knowing they would not be seen they began to fondle each other.

But they were wrong about not being seen. Not far off in the brush there lay five Cherokee Indians. Three were full fledged warriors while the others were younger teens on the path to that rank. The older boys had brought them on this mission to aid them in that process. Today the younger boys would go through a right of passage that was essential. They would learn to kill another man.

The Indians watched and seemed intrigued at what the young white men were doing and when Jason pushed his younger brother to his knees and stuffed his engorged cock into the blonde teen’s mouth the Cherokee youths all hardened with excitement at the sight. But the leader of the party, Red Dove, brought them back to the matter at hand and signaled to the rest to fan out and advance.

At Red Dove’s signal they rushed the Weyland boys who were now in the midst of a full fledged sex romp and were taken totally by surprise.

By design two braves grabbed the bigger boy from behind and Red Dove rammed the butt end of his spear into Jason’s stomach winding him then brought the spear end up like a club smacking the underside of the chin knocking Jason half unconscious. Meanwhile the other two Cherokee tackled Joey. One of the young Indians punched Joey’s cock and balls several times eliciting yelps of pain from the cute teen while the second threw a few well placed punches to his face stunning him to the point where he could be handled easily and hoisted up from behind with his arms behind his back.

The white boys had ropes tied to their wrists and were led over to two trees that had large overhanging branches. Their wrists were forced high overhead and tied to these branches with the arms slightly off to the sides. The restrained wrists were forced so high up that the captive’s toes barely touched the ground. The result was that the brothers were tied upright with their naked bodies totally exposed and vulnerable.

When Jason finally came to with a shake of his head he pulled at his restraints to no avail. He then looked over to his left and saw his little brother tied the same as he himself was. The Indians were surrounding Joey and stroking his blonde hair and rubbing the teen’s hard pecs and furry stomach like he was some sort of curious pet. Joey was wiggling but could not stop the humiliation. One of the braves began stroking Joey’s cock and seemed pleased it responded with an immediate hardening.

“Leave him the hell alone!” Jason yelled.

The braves didn’t understand the white man’s words but did turn their attention back to the older captive. Red Dove walked over to Jason with a war lance in hand and poked the razor sharp flint tip into Jason’s fuzz covered navel and applied just enough pressure to draw a drop of blood. It was an obvious demonstration that Red Dove had the power of life and death over Jason. But Jason was not easily intimidated and responded in a way he was sure the savage would understand and spat on Red Dove’s face.

The other four Indians shouted in anger and raised their own spears to skewer the offending white man but Red Dove reacted differently.

He simply wiped the saliva from his face and held up a hand ordering silence. He then ordered the two younger members of the party, White Willow  and Green Feather, go get their bows and arrows. The two young teenagers responded and returned brandishing their weapons.

Red Dove was indeed insulted at what Jason had done but decided the best form of punishment would be for Jason to watch as his young lover/brother was executed with arrows fired by the young braves in training.

Red Dove backed the two young Cherokee back a point about 40 feet away from where Joey stood tied in a near crucifix stance.

Jason had a good idea now what was going to happen as did Joey who cast a fearful glace over to his brother and gulped down a lump in his throat.

Acting like the perfect teacher Red Dove stood behind White Willow and showed him the proper way of aiming. The boy pulled the arrow back as the older brave guided his aim gently then stepped back. White Willow let his breath out and let the arrow loose.

Joey’s eyes were clenched tight awaiting the pain that was sure to come but instead he felt the “swoosh’ of the arrow sail past his left ear.

The disappointment and shame on White Willow’s face was obvious yet Red Dove made no condescending comment and patted the boy on the back for a good first attempt and told him to try again.

Somehow Joey wished the kid would just put the next shot through his heart and end this ungodly waiting. Jason was actually wishing the same thing hoping that Joey’s death, that was unavoidable now, would be a quick one.

White Willow pulled the arrow back and again accepted the instructions from his teacher and this time let his breath out as he let the arrow go. The missile with the sharp flint tip streaked toward its target.

THUMP!

The arrow embedded itself in Joey’s slightly soft and thickly furred belly just to the left of his big navel knot. Joey let out a groan as he felt the hard point rip deep into his bowels. Surprisingly little blood came out of him. Just a small trickle worked its way around the shaft and ran in a tiny stream down his gut ending in his blonde pubes.

Jason winced in sympathetic pain and turned away but had to look back as White Willow rushed forward to see his handiwork along with the rest of the Cherokee.

“Excellent work White Willow” Red Dove told his young student in their native tongue.

“You have pierced the belly of the white man-boy.” Red Dove held his finger to Joey’s side indicating just how far in the arrow had penetrated. He then showed how important it was to have adequate barbs on the arrows and gave the shaft a hard pull.

Joey screamed as the well-barbed tip ripped his guts apart as it was yanked on.

Green Feather stood by enthralled and wanted to get a try too. He was about to have that chance as Red Dove told him to go back to the same spot and load up.

Green Feather was a little bigger than his friend White Willow. His stout muscles pulled the arrow back further and Red Dove guided his aim in the same helpful way. He stepped back and the boy let go.

THWACK!

Green Feather’s arrow hit the mark on the first try and Joey kicked his legs out and threw his head back as the arrow plunged through his hair covered lower belly him just above his lush crop of golden pubes.

Again the Indians rushed forward with Green Feather leading the way eager to see the wound he had inflicted.

Joey’s cock was actually throbbing at half-mast even with two arrows in his gut. A slick wetness adorned the bulbous head while the two low hanging balls churned in their hairy sack. Red Dove indicated again how far the point had penetrated and the second arrow was further in then the first.

More blood oozed out from around this wound too and Joey’s cute young face still yet to grow a whisker grimaced with pain.

Another of the older braves made a joke about Green Feather almost hitting the boy’s cock and all the Cherokee laughed as they returned to the firing point.

White Willow was up again and this time his first shot didn’t miss.

“THUMP!” the dull sound of an arrow hitting the tender abdomen was audible.

Joey cried out in pain as his stomach was hit dead center in the valley of his abs a few inches above his belly button.

Green Feather was eager to shoot again and his arrow too found the target.

“THWACK!” Again Green Feather’s arrow hit low finding a home near his first shot going through the upper portion of Joey’s pubic patch and stabbing through the boy’s bladder.

“AGGGGHHHH,……Shit!” screamed Joey at the intense pain.

The same brave that had made the earlier comment spoke again of the boy’s enthusiasm for shooting low and again the braves laughed.

“Hang in there Joey!” it was a feeble encouragement and Jason knew it but there was little he could offer at this point.

“THUMP!” Came the sound of White Willow’s third shot as it hit Joey just to the right of his navel.

Green Feather’s third shot went higher this time and hit Joey in the upper abdomen just below the left ribcage puncturing the handsome teenager’s stomach sack.

“Uuuuuuuugghh” went Joey whose head fell forward with his legs giving out. Only the ropes that bound his wrists supported him now and he drooped forward with his chin resting on his chest. Blood dripped out of his mouth as it surged up his throat from the severe abdominal trauma caused by the six arrows in his guts.

The braves walked over to him and heard the heavy wheezing as the dying boy gasped for breath. Red Dove grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his face up. Joey opened his eyes. They were filled with pain yet still showed defiance. Amazingly his long cock was now at full mast and Red dove stroked it slathering it’s impressive length with pre-cum. A bit of red stained the normally clear fluid indicating some damage to Joey’s reproductive system from Green Feather’s low shots.

Jason could not watch the sight of his beloved baby brother being slowly shot to death. The moans Joey was making were bad enough for Jason to bear. When Red Dove noticed this he knew he had selected the right torture for the elder white man. This was indeed worse for him than his own torture or death.

Red Dove let Joey go and Joey leaned forward outstretched. His head was still down but he continued his raspy breathing spitting up an occasional wad of blood that landed on his chest. Joey’s furry stomach with its six arrows sticking from it heaved in and out as his labored breath came in gasps. The motion of the arrow stabbed belly made the protruding shafts almost appear to be dancing, as they all seemed to be stuck into the undulating belly at different angles.

Red Dove ordered both his students to load their bows. They did and he thrust his own taunt, brown skinned Cherokee belly forward and pointed to his deep innie navel to indicate what the boy’s target was.

White Willow and Green Feather both grinned and aimed their arrows at Joey’s arrow riddled abdomen.

Jason watched in abject horror and screamed, “NOOOOO BSTARDS!”

But the insult was in vane as the arrows were let loose.

The two THUMPS were so close together they sounded like one.

“Unnnnngghhhh” Joey just let out a grunting moan of pain as both arrows hit their mark ripping through his navel and burrowing deep into one of the few undamaged parts of his gut.

Again the five Indians went over to see the damage. Joey was slumping forward and Red Dove raised his head by the hair. Gone was the defiant look replaced by one of acceptance of his death that was just moments away. Joey tongue hung out the side of his mouth as blood dripped over and around it.

Green Feather and White Willow were celebrating as both of them had sunk their arrows into the birth scar of the white man-boy.

The dual arrows had obliterated what was once a beautiful navel and the side by side wood shafts stretched the wound open wide allowing copious amounts of blood to gush out of it.

Joey’s eyes began to gloss over and he coughed feebly a few times. The incredible damage his body had absorbed from now 8 arrows in his soft belly was about to take its price.

White Willow noticed Joey’s cock still at full mast. Red Dove instructed the two shooters to stroke it on till it spewed seed as Joey had faced death with incredible bravery. It was a way of honoring him.

White Willow rubbed the engorged cock back and forth while Green Feather massaged the low hanging cum filled balls. He even stuck his index finger up Joey’s ass and it was that action that caused Joey to moan as his shot his now blood stained cum all over White Willow’s hard, brown skinned pectorals.

Joey’s cock continued to spray his pink cum even after White Willow stopped manipulating him.

Red Dove cut Joey down and laid him on his back. The eight arrows in the teenager’s stomach bobbed up and down a few more times as he took his last few breaths till Joey let out a gurgling noise and all motion on his body stopped. His body sagged forward supported only by the ropes tied to his wrists, his chin resting on his chest.

Jason tried to blink away the tears as he saw Joey die.

The five Cherokee then advanced on him.

The Native American’s were free of body hair and were captivated by the carpet of fur that grew over Jason’s chest and stomach. They rubbed it like a pet dog while they discussed what would become of the second of the captives.]]>
The Weyland boys were left alone for the weekend as their parents and younger sister left for a trip to Dodge City that would last five days. Jason was 19 years old and ruggedly looking and his younger brother Joey was 17 and equally tough in appearance yet maintained his fresh boy-like charm.


After splashing about in the cooling water for a few minutes the brothers emerged from pool naked as the day they were born. The water had plastered down the thick crop of hair on Jason’s powerful chest and taunt abs making it even more pronounced and Joey tried hard not to notice his brother’s manliness. But it was a failed effort as the 17 year old’s cock began to swell as he took in the sight. Jason cast a glance at his little brother who he had not seen naked in a while and noticed with pleasure that Joey wasn’t a “little” boy anymore. Though Joey’s chest and belly were not as hairy as his brother’s he was beginning to sport soft tuft of hair growth between his pecs and a neat oval pattern of fur encircled his deep innie navel the kid was also sporting an impressive piece of manhood between his thighs.

Jason reached out and gave Joey’s hardening dick a swat that made the teenager’s cock go bobbing side to side as Jason said, “Liking what you see lil brother?”

Joey blushed and tried to hide his excitement to no avail then repeated the same move to Jason giving the 19 year old’s cock a friendly swat that made it bounce around as it jutted out from a massive forest of thick pubes.

“No more than you are BIG brother!” Joey said.

Living alone on the plains with lack of female companionship was getting tough for both boys to take and knowing they would not be seen they began to fondle each other.

But they were wrong about not being seen. Not far off in the brush there lay five Cherokee Indians. Three were full fledged warriors while the others were younger teens on the path to that rank. The older boys had brought them on this mission to aid them in that process. Today the younger boys would go through a right of passage that was essential. They would learn to kill another man.

The Indians watched and seemed intrigued at what the young white men were doing and when Jason pushed his younger brother to his knees and stuffed his engorged cock into the blonde teen’s mouth the Cherokee youths all hardened with excitement at the sight. But the leader of the party, Red Dove, brought them back to the matter at hand and signaled to the rest to fan out and advance.

At Red Dove’s signal they rushed the Weyland boys who were now in the midst of a full fledged sex romp and were taken totally by surprise.

By design two braves grabbed the bigger boy from behind and Red Dove rammed the butt end of his spear into Jason’s stomach winding him then brought the spear end up like a club smacking the underside of the chin knocking Jason half unconscious. Meanwhile the other two Cherokee tackled Joey. One of the young Indians punched Joey’s cock and balls several times eliciting yelps of pain from the cute teen while the second threw a few well placed punches to his face stunning him to the point where he could be handled easily and hoisted up from behind with his arms behind his back.

The white boys had ropes tied to their wrists and were led over to two trees that had large overhanging branches. Their wrists were forced high overhead and tied to these branches with the arms slightly off to the sides. The restrained wrists were forced so high up that the captive’s toes barely touched the ground. The result was that the brothers were tied upright with their naked bodies totally exposed and vulnerable.

When Jason finally came to with a shake of his head he pulled at his restraints to no avail. He then looked over to his left and saw his little brother tied the same as he himself was. The Indians were surrounding Joey and stroking his blonde hair and rubbing the teen’s hard pecs and furry stomach like he was some sort of curious pet. Joey was wiggling but could not stop the humiliation. One of the braves began stroking Joey’s cock and seemed pleased it responded with an immediate hardening.

“Leave him the hell alone!” Jason yelled.

The braves didn’t understand the white man’s words but did turn their attention back to the older captive. Red Dove walked over to Jason with a war lance in hand and poked the razor sharp flint tip into Jason’s fuzz covered navel and applied just enough pressure to draw a drop of blood. It was an obvious demonstration that Red Dove had the power of life and death over Jason. But Jason was not easily intimidated and responded in a way he was sure the savage would understand and spat on Red Dove’s face.

The other four Indians shouted in anger and raised their own spears to skewer the offending white man but Red Dove reacted differently.

He simply wiped the saliva from his face and held up a hand ordering silence. He then ordered the two younger members of the party, White Willow  and Green Feather, go get their bows and arrows. The two young teenagers responded and returned brandishing their weapons.

Red Dove was indeed insulted at what Jason had done but decided the best form of punishment would be for Jason to watch as his young lover/brother was executed with arrows fired by the young braves in training.

Red Dove backed the two young Cherokee back a point about 40 feet away from where Joey stood tied in a near crucifix stance.

Jason had a good idea now what was going to happen as did Joey who cast a fearful glace over to his brother and gulped down a lump in his throat.

Acting like the perfect teacher Red Dove stood behind White Willow and showed him the proper way of aiming. The boy pulled the arrow back as the older brave guided his aim gently then stepped back. White Willow let his breath out and let the arrow loose.

Joey’s eyes were clenched tight awaiting the pain that was sure to come but instead he felt the “swoosh’ of the arrow sail past his left ear.

The disappointment and shame on White Willow’s face was obvious yet Red Dove made no condescending comment and patted the boy on the back for a good first attempt and told him to try again.

Somehow Joey wished the kid would just put the next shot through his heart and end this ungodly waiting. Jason was actually wishing the same thing hoping that Joey’s death, that was unavoidable now, would be a quick one.

White Willow pulled the arrow back and again accepted the instructions from his teacher and this time let his breath out as he let the arrow go. The missile with the sharp flint tip streaked toward its target.

THUMP!

The arrow embedded itself in Joey’s slightly soft and thickly furred belly just to the left of his big navel knot. Joey let out a groan as he felt the hard point rip deep into his bowels. Surprisingly little blood came out of him. Just a small trickle worked its way around the shaft and ran in a tiny stream down his gut ending in his blonde pubes.

Jason winced in sympathetic pain and turned away but had to look back as White Willow rushed forward to see his handiwork along with the rest of the Cherokee.

“Excellent work White Willow” Red Dove told his young student in their native tongue.

“You have pierced the belly of the white man-boy.” Red Dove held his finger to Joey’s side indicating just how far in the arrow had penetrated. He then showed how important it was to have adequate barbs on the arrows and gave the shaft a hard pull.

Joey screamed as the well-barbed tip ripped his guts apart as it was yanked on.

Green Feather stood by enthralled and wanted to get a try too. He was about to have that chance as Red Dove told him to go back to the same spot and load up.

Green Feather was a little bigger than his friend White Willow. His stout muscles pulled the arrow back further and Red Dove guided his aim in the same helpful way. He stepped back and the boy let go.

THWACK!

Green Feather’s arrow hit the mark on the first try and Joey kicked his legs out and threw his head back as the arrow plunged through his hair covered lower belly him just above his lush crop of golden pubes.

Again the Indians rushed forward with Green Feather leading the way eager to see the wound he had inflicted.

Joey’s cock was actually throbbing at half-mast even with two arrows in his gut. A slick wetness adorned the bulbous head while the two low hanging balls churned in their hairy sack. Red Dove indicated again how far the point had penetrated and the second arrow was further in then the first.

More blood oozed out from around this wound too and Joey’s cute young face still yet to grow a whisker grimaced with pain.

Another of the older braves made a joke about Green Feather almost hitting the boy’s cock and all the Cherokee laughed as they returned to the firing point.

White Willow was up again and this time his first shot didn’t miss.

“THUMP!” the dull sound of an arrow hitting the tender abdomen was audible.

Joey cried out in pain as his stomach was hit dead center in the valley of his abs a few inches above his belly button.

Green Feather was eager to shoot again and his arrow too found the target.

“THWACK!” Again Green Feather’s arrow hit low finding a home near his first shot going through the upper portion of Joey’s pubic patch and stabbing through the boy’s bladder.

“AGGGGHHHH,……Shit!” screamed Joey at the intense pain.

The same brave that had made the earlier comment spoke again of the boy’s enthusiasm for shooting low and again the braves laughed.

“Hang in there Joey!” it was a feeble encouragement and Jason knew it but there was little he could offer at this point.

“THUMP!” Came the sound of White Willow’s third shot as it hit Joey just to the right of his navel.

Green Feather’s third shot went higher this time and hit Joey in the upper abdomen just below the left ribcage puncturing the handsome teenager’s stomach sack.

“Uuuuuuuugghh” went Joey whose head fell forward with his legs giving out. Only the ropes that bound his wrists supported him now and he drooped forward with his chin resting on his chest. Blood dripped out of his mouth as it surged up his throat from the severe abdominal trauma caused by the six arrows in his guts.

The braves walked over to him and heard the heavy wheezing as the dying boy gasped for breath. Red Dove grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his face up. Joey opened his eyes. They were filled with pain yet still showed defiance. Amazingly his long cock was now at full mast and Red dove stroked it slathering it’s impressive length with pre-cum. A bit of red stained the normally clear fluid indicating some damage to Joey’s reproductive system from Green Feather’s low shots.

Jason could not watch the sight of his beloved baby brother being slowly shot to death. The moans Joey was making were bad enough for Jason to bear. When Red Dove noticed this he knew he had selected the right torture for the elder white man. This was indeed worse for him than his own torture or death.

Red Dove let Joey go and Joey leaned forward outstretched. His head was still down but he continued his raspy breathing spitting up an occasional wad of blood that landed on his chest. Joey’s furry stomach with its six arrows sticking from it heaved in and out as his labored breath came in gasps. The motion of the arrow stabbed belly made the protruding shafts almost appear to be dancing, as they all seemed to be stuck into the undulating belly at different angles.

Red Dove ordered both his students to load their bows. They did and he thrust his own taunt, brown skinned Cherokee belly forward and pointed to his deep innie navel to indicate what the boy’s target was.

White Willow and Green Feather both grinned and aimed their arrows at Joey’s arrow riddled abdomen.

Jason watched in abject horror and screamed, “NOOOOO BSTARDS!”

But the insult was in vane as the arrows were let loose.

The two THUMPS were so close together they sounded like one.

“Unnnnngghhhh” Joey just let out a grunting moan of pain as both arrows hit their mark ripping through his navel and burrowing deep into one of the few undamaged parts of his gut.

Again the five Indians went over to see the damage. Joey was slumping forward and Red Dove raised his head by the hair. Gone was the defiant look replaced by one of acceptance of his death that was just moments away. Joey tongue hung out the side of his mouth as blood dripped over and around it.

Green Feather and White Willow were celebrating as both of them had sunk their arrows into the birth scar of the white man-boy.

The dual arrows had obliterated what was once a beautiful navel and the side by side wood shafts stretched the wound open wide allowing copious amounts of blood to gush out of it.

Joey’s eyes began to gloss over and he coughed feebly a few times. The incredible damage his body had absorbed from now 8 arrows in his soft belly was about to take its price.

White Willow noticed Joey’s cock still at full mast. Red Dove instructed the two shooters to stroke it on till it spewed seed as Joey had faced death with incredible bravery. It was a way of honoring him.

White Willow rubbed the engorged cock back and forth while Green Feather massaged the low hanging cum filled balls. He even stuck his index finger up Joey’s ass and it was that action that caused Joey to moan as his shot his now blood stained cum all over White Willow’s hard, brown skinned pectorals.

Joey’s cock continued to spray his pink cum even after White Willow stopped manipulating him.

Red Dove cut Joey down and laid him on his back. The eight arrows in the teenager’s stomach bobbed up and down a few more times as he took his last few breaths till Joey let out a gurgling noise and all motion on his body stopped. His body sagged forward supported only by the ropes tied to his wrists, his chin resting on his chest.

Jason tried to blink away the tears as he saw Joey die.

The five Cherokee then advanced on him.

The Native American’s were free of body hair and were captivated by the carpet of fur that grew over Jason’s chest and stomach. They rubbed it like a pet dog while they discussed what would become of the second of the captives.]]>