Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2010 11:28:46 -0400
From: J
Subject: TRIO: IN THE GYM one and two

IN THE GYM - PART 1
      They were there for a reason and they all knew what they were there for:
      the gym was rented out. Some were in shorts, cut off denims, bathing
      suits, thongs, loin cloths, one wore a loin cloth of an American Indian.
      They were all young men, all different looking, some similar. All muscled.
      Some lean and skinny, some marble like, all hairless, some with veins
      standing out on their necks, pecs, lower young belly leading the way
      toward their member. Some were smooth and not too muscled but lean and
      undefined, somehow making it even sexier looking. Almost all held one
      knife in one hand, a sword in the other, one or two had opted for a sole
      spear, no knife, no sword.
      They stood all around the walls of the wooden gym, which would be opened
      again on Monday morning by another fan. No questions asked, he knew all
      the answers. None of these knew each other before this. Most were already
      hard with anticipation. A few looked scared, their eyes betraying the fact
      that they didn't know what they were getting into...or what would soon be
      getting into them.
      There were red heads with blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes, black eyes,
      freckles along their bellies, shoulders and along their backs, a few had
      long red hair points--tails--running from their head down their otherwise
      hairless backs, redheads with knotted outtie belly buttons, the sharp
      double points of a knife would soon be butchering those knots into several
      dangling bits.
      Sexy blondes with blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes. Soft features and
      fear trying to be camaflaged by a toughness that just wasn't there...or
      was it? The Adam's apple rising and falling on a slender atheletic neck. A
      flat belly button with no distincitive features, almost rising to the
      outer ridge that almost was. Muscled legs, hairless as the
      semi-bodybuilder chest and ribbed sides. False bravado and innocence
      mixing into a warrior. All wanted to win, all wanted to lose, all wanted
      to really FEEL it.
      Dark Filipinos, Chinese, paler than those, Japanese with cold faces,
      hiding smiles that wouldn't relent in the face of their own utter cruelty
      which would follow...or the massive cruelty of one sticking them. Silky
      black hair, some long, some so short as to be almost bald, some so long as
      to be a hindrance, hairless, darker ones with green eyes. Slender stomachs
      with navels that just begged to be cut, entered by some steel weapon. Hips
      to come down from the upper torso, thick thighs with muscular chicken meat
      up to the iron board washboard stomach. Deep belly buttons, outties,
      innies, all dark, tanned, Oriental.
      Arab young men with ridged worm like stomach holes and cold faces, smiles
      of far from perfect teeth as if they would stab you as soon as drink with
      you. Deadly eyes, cold, uncaring for good and rightness.
      No one guy was in front of another. All were lined up around the huge gym
      room, it being empty except for the hard waxed wood floor and a few
      bleachers which were stocked inward. An automatic whistle blew on a
      mike---from a tape deck inside. The young men were on each other in a
      flash. Knives dug deep tunnels in slow moving bellies. Blondes gasped and
      doubled up, their well sectioned lined stomachs over hard metal, which
      entered their soft belly buttons.
      Groans, cries, gasps of shock, of pain, of pleasure rang out as did the
      clanging of steel. Young men fought over the rolling bodies of the slower
      ones who were jabbed in the middles.
      A dark haired muscle dude, an Arabian looking youth drove home a curved
      sword right into the tender belly of a lean pale Swedish looking ypung
      man, the belly button caving in under the curve. As he went down, he
      managed to drive up both his knives forward into the Arab's stomach and
      then swish their positions, effectively cutting both sides of his belly
      button, a large snake like affair, from one of its sides through the
      middle to the other. Pain like you wouldn't believe. Both smiled as they
      went down, driving thier respective weapons in as hard as they could.
      A marble like stomach of stone hard muscles which looked as if they
      couldn't be beat, were penetrated by a short broadsword point--at the
      navel. The shocked look on the guy who owned the nice body showed that he
      thought his well worked on frame and worked out body would be able to
      resist or stop anything. Which of course was bull. For the elbow of the
      dude driving home the metal point moved inward and inward and inward. The
      guy was stuck right out his back and into the wooden bleachers behind him.
      He could feel their cold wood as his back hit them. The guy sticking him
      was not as muscled. Lean and smooth, hairless body, he looked like a mere
      kid. He smiled as he drove home the sword into the bleachers, not
      realising his victory would be short--unlike his penis which grew in his
      elastic banded blue gym shorts. For from behind, another youth, a freckled
      redhead with a tail, had just punctured the belly of a fair haired Italian
      jock, a broad shouldered guy with strong brown eyes and a stocky body but
      non well too defined abs--smooth and lean but stretched out across a pair
      of nice hips, bony but somewhat clay like at the same time. The Italian
      went down, "Ohhhhhh, ahhhhhh. No! Yeah! Oaaaaaaahuhgggg!"
      When he did, the redhead didn't waste time, for he unplugged the Italian,
      who grabbed at the deep hole in his previously shallow balloon ending
      looking belly button, and the redhead reached around the bare side of the
      hairless bodies kid and found his navel, then sliced from navel backward,
      chopping above hip and out the back, cutting half the kid's side from his
      bottom. He tried to turn but the redhead reached around the other side
      with his shorter, second and serrated knife and just jabbed in quickly and
      removed it just as quickly. The youth in front, blond, went down slowly,
      trying to turn and only half succeeding. He half faced his killer as he
      went down.
      A spear went into the redhead's stomach as he turned to take on another.
      The spear was held by a long haired Greek teenager with dark tanned body.
      And great abs and black leather shorts and tie up boots. The kid stabbing
      the redhead smiled a nice set of teeth at him and the redhead grabbed the
      spear in him and dropped both his knives. "Oaaaaaaaa! Ullllll." He fell
      backward. The Greek let the spear follow as a natural motion and then
      continued to stab down...the redhead tried to hold it back but the Greek
      just needed to apply alittle of his weight to make the redhead arch his
      back as the point of the spear drilled into his navel and out it and into
      the meat behind it.
      It was like this all over the gym.
      Not one of the youthful men realized they were being watched. Above on the
      roof of the gym were sky light windows, reflecting the carnage and what
      seemed a bit like sex to the two watching. Two young men, were wide eyed
      at first, at this horror. One had blond-brown hair, to his shoulders, wide
      hips and slender, bare belly between with a vertical slit navel, wide
      horizontally just enough to see flat wrinkles and hills inside. He had on
      a pair of elastic red gym shorts and a pleated short cut top, short to his
      nipples, just exposing them a bit. He and his pal, a brown haired Irish
      kid were laying on the roof, looking in. They now crouched onto their
      knees to watch. The young man with him was topless and well built but
      short, shorter than the first young man. His abs were better, well defined
      and hard, his hips closer together and his frame smaller but more muscled.
      He wore denim cut offs, the top button open, a rip in the upper left leg.
      His belly, when he was doubled up, looked like it had three belly buttons.
      His real one was deep but with a heavy ridge around it to make it look
      somewhat outtie as well as innie. Karate had toned his entire body but
      especially his small pecs and his abs.
      The young men' looks of horror turned to enjoyment as they took in the
      entire menagerie of death and battle below. Slowly smiles drew upon their
      faces. Every once in a while they looked at one another, sometimes at the
      same time. One would close his eyes and say, "Ohhhh," as they seemed to
      feel the hit of another against their body, identifying with the ones
      taking it in their stomachs so brutally.
      At other times, they felt the guy that was getting it or guys getting it
      deserved it since they were weaker than the one stickin them. "He got him!
      Ohhh, man, good! Good for him and he should have gotten it. He sucked!
      Look his belly is sucking it now!" Short laughs. Long extensions in their
      shorts.
      Below, metal seemed to find its way into wood, through heavy flesh mounds.
      Washboard stomachs played host to long, solid, life taking steel. A few
      were ripped apart as the blades were fooled with, played with, wriggled
      inside. Sometimes the dying guy's movements of spasms and anguish would
      make it tear at him more, causing him more pain and making it a circular
      cycle of pain, spasm, more pain from spasm, more spasms! The two young men
      above could also hear quite a bit, one of the windows they had pried open
      gave them access to the groans of the dying and the victory cries of the
      stickers.
      The shirtless young man, Fred, looked at the young man, Chuck, next to him
      take in the massacres below. He then looked Chuck's body over, those lean
      bits between short cut shirt and elastic on short's top. Those meaty legs.
      That navel...
      Navels were being torn asunder below. A blond with a perfect washboard,
      iron board, had a Native American with long black hair, take two knives
      and put them, not too roughly, his washboard slide, one on either side,
      taking it in a bit. Sticking against and somewhat into the sides of the
      skin just off the washboard and horizontally even with the navel. The
      blond didn't want to move, thinking he had to buy himself some time to get
      out of this. Bad move. There was no way out. But the Native American knew
      there was a way in...into this kid before him and at his mercy.
      He poked a bit deeper into the sides of the washboard, just a sixty degree
      angle from hip to washboard side on each side. A small trickle came down
      from each tiny hole. The blond gulped and looked into the eyes of the
      Native American Indian young man with fear. The Native smiles and looked
      into the other's eyes with fierce animalistic rage.
      Then without notice, he crisscrossed the knives, sliced the belly from
      washboard side to lean across the middle of the ironboard---horizontally
      meeting the navel, slicing the sides a bit. The body of each knife
      crisscrossed against the other directly over the shallow and flat,
      undefined innie belly button of this kid. The crisscross of metal
      tightened over the navel which was ridgeless. "No, please," the blond
      squeaked, tears in his eyes, his Adam's apple rising and falling, his
      breath heavy with fear. Sweat beaded down his forehead, his pecs, his
      shoulders and under arms. To the Native American, it felt and smelt good.
      He chuckled. The Native American then dragged the knife points from each
      side to the middle of the belly so the body of each knife met right in the
      navel but from the side of the washboard, effectively stabbing the blond
      from each side, both knives now moved straight with each other and pointed
      in the butchered belly. The Native American dark guy moved both knives
      inward with a quick jab and didn't have far to go to come out the kid's
      back. He cut up now and the points both popped out the kid's upper back
      between shoulder blades. The kid gulped, sucked in air and couldn't say or
      do anything as he hunched over the blades. The Native young man moved him
      across the floor toward a wall but never made it. Both fell over an
      embraced couple grappling on the floor. One brown haired Irish young man
      stabbed his knife down at another young man, a Chinese with lots of
      muscles, more than the Irish young man. The Irish dude made the Chinese
      dude's belly button, a center of massive ab muscles, play host to his
      three pronged dagger--the middle prong hitting first and going in. The
      Chinese dude tensed and arched quickly but fell back, under the Irish
      dude. But he rolled himself over the Irish one and brought his knife from
      low just above the Irish kid's leg where leg met torso and cut upward
      until he reached the belly button area, then sunk as deep and as hard as
      he could go.
      Another Oriental, a slender but well endowed guy in a singlet with an open
      front, a front which displayed a stomach and chest area, petite but
      slender and smooth, tanned and olive colored, had a large spear he was
      using against a Japanese dude who had on a short cut orange vest. He
      ringed the spear around the trident of the Japan dude but the Japan dude,
      acting as if he were taken by surprise, wasn't. He took his trident which
      had two prongs on the side---longer prongs than the center of the spear,
      which had a middle prong that sort of hung back--but was serrated on both
      sides. This trident's side prongs found their way into the upper and lower
      area just above and below the dark Filipino belly button, a mixture of
      outtie and innie. The prongs cut deep and the guy gasped and tried to bear
      his spear onto the Japanese dude, who smirked miserably and happily.
      The Native on the floor was gutted by the blond and both were speared by a
      redhead with a streak of green running down his mid head and a tail. That
      redhead was stabbed from behind and found his stomach now playing spasms
      with the point of a sword out his belly button, which was all the place,
      covering his lower stomach and its sides. Dripping down his crotch.
      The Filipino dude saw his dilemma: the trident mid point, not yet in him,
      was being forced right toward his belly button. The other two prongs were
      deep set in, one above his belly ridge and the other below, just. Both he
      and the Japan guy, felt wetness ooze out of their penis slits. Both
      smiled, one a smile o death readiness, the other a smile of victory and
      brutality. The smiles seemed to meld to the faces of the young men above
      who watched. The Japan guy forced the Filipino backward. The Filipino
      stood his ground, spear in him and all. The Trident main mid point stuck
      into the belly button center, deeply. The Filipino threw his head back,
      tightened his stomach muscles, voluntarily or absent reaction, Fred and
      Chuck couldn't tell. Both young men were in awe over this and gasps from
      them couldn't do it justice. They focused on this over all the other one
      on one fights (and there were some that were more than one on one).
      The Japan guy tightened his grip on the thick spear and moved it in. But
      as he did, he also turned it, round and round, using the center as a
      pivot. The deeper prongs circled the belly button, round and round,
      cutting the ridge a bit but mostly circling it and causing the skin around
      it to go inward, making his belly hole stick out more, a bloody pulp
      surrounding it. Cutting a new belly hole but making it an outtie. The
      mountain that was his new belly hole outtie took the full force of the
      Japan guy's thrust deep. The Filipino hunched his shoulders and threw out
      his back but still tried to take it. He couldn't. He threw his head up and
      back, his neck veins standing out, his mouth a grimace of extreme pain.
      "Awwww."
      "Kewl!"
      "Finish him!"
      "Cut it off!"
      The Japan guy did just that. Swiveling the spear, obtensively to get it
      out but probably more to cause as much pain as possible, mangled the belly
      button he had just created. The thing was a mess of blackness, red blood,
      flesh tones. It fell off. Then the Japanese guy did something even cooler.
      He took the spear out and then re-plunged it into the same area! All three
      prongs cut deep. He took it out and pressed something on the handle near
      his hand. All three prongs met each other as he plunged yet again. The
      Filipino fell off the spear and backward into a wall. The Japan dude
      followed and heaved it into him yet again! He flung it up, using both
      hands on the spear and the body of the darker one rose against the wall.
      His eyes shut.
      "Oh shit. He ain't fully dead yet!"
      "Shit yeah! This is doin things to me!"
      The pull out. The body fell, hands glued to the pulp of a once stomach.
      More death, more fights. The young men wanted to look away, too excited
      but couldn't. They found themselves thinking, wanting, hoping to be a part
      of this.
      The floor was a mass of kicking, spasming, embracing, jerking, jolting,
      shivering bodies, some fully bare, naked as their flimsey loin cloths,
      thongs, or string hold on codpieces were cut off. It looked like an orgy.
      For some, it was. Penises spurted covering bellies already messed with
      gore, reddness, and glory.
      A few guys still stood, victory in every fiber of their being, their
      knives or swords or spears covered in the flesh of other dudes or the gore
      and blood of others. Intestines hung limply off a pitchfork.
      Another guy, locked in mortal combat with another dude, had dropped his
      weapon. A dying guy near the pair was heaving his stomach upward, holding
      his lower belly. A point was out his belly button. The guy nearest him who
      had dropped his weapon, reached over and saw his oppurtunity. He grabbed
      the shaft sticking out of the dying hunk and held it just below the sharp
      point. He heaved it out of the wide eyed dying one and wielded on his
      attacker who held one of his wrists as he held the attacker's knife wrist.
      The attacker got an intestine covered spear, a belly button on the end,
      still attached, into his own. The pusher of this spear, lost track of what
      was happening, caught up in his bloodlust, which could be dangerous. One
      could kill friend and foe when this happened, or one's self, or make bad
      mistakes. Bad if you didn't want to get stuck. Which this guy did want. He
      must have wanted it. The knife found its way, a reflex of death spasm by
      the guy gettin the new spear in him. The knife dragged between and then
      down the pecs of the spear holder. Deeper and deeper as it got lower and
      lower. Then in more. The dying dude leaned on the spear guy, getting the
      spear straight through him and out his bare back while at the same time,
      getting his knife and its hilt and part of his hand up to his wrist buried
      in the raging guy killing him. Both grunted death and victory grunts.
      The young men above were practically cumming. Their penis heads urged and
      stretched, Fred's up his denim open shorts; Chuck's at the elastic band of
      his bathing suit, the white tie ropes came undone to make room.
      Slowly, Fred took out, from his denim short pocket, on the left side, a
      small pocket knife...he flicked it open...Chuck didn't see. He was still
      looking down. Fred took another one out of his right pocket and opened it,
      one in each hand now...what would he do?

IN THE GYM - PART 2
      Fred looked at the point of the blades and put them together. Their gleam
      reflected off the light from the windows even though it was dark. To drive
      both points as one through his friend's soft belly material... he tried
      not to think about it but found he had to. He couldn't not think about it!
      Below, the men fighting were picking each other off, each one whacking a
      sword at the other's stomach area. It must have been some kind of rule
      that you had to kill by sticking in the abs or belly button for that is
      what almost all of these hunks were doing to each other. Some died
      quickly, some slowly. Some died as they fell, some died long agonizing
      minutes after they died. Some took those who had stuck them down with
      them.
      One sneering, hard bodied, clean shaven (all over his body) white guy with
      brown hair and gray-blue eyes, stood over a younger looking guy, a shorter
      guy. The sneerer has on a loin cloth of leopard skin, not much else, boots
      of brown. The lion cloth was held by mere small strings. He had a long
      knife, almost a short sword in his right hand. The youg man before him,
      had his back to the stone portion of the wall, his Adam's apple going up
      and down, his look of near victory and fake bravado gone. He defied his
      enemy by looking up with his chin. He had had his sword knocked from his
      left fist and only had a very small knife.
      Fred looked at the pocket knife in his right hand.
      The smaller youth had a punk-ish haircut, shaved sides and long in the
      back with a slight blond tail and bleached blond-brown hair, glittery
      like. The sneering man, macho, hard bodied, tense, strode forward and this
      made him almost on top of the younger man. There couldn't have been more
      than a half foot between them. The younger backed up against the wall, his
      chest out, his back straight against the cold stone, someone's else's
      blood on it, making parts of it warm and getting on his smooth and
      semi-defined back.
      The sneering dude breathed on the blond-brown's face as he drove his long
      knife directly into the belly button, a heavily ridged and ringed belly
      button which went in deep. The kid before him had a very deep innie which
      seemed to go on forever. He stood defiant but when the point finally cut,
      he groaned loudly and sucked in air. His front moved forward but the
      muscular heavy pecs of the guy doing the stabbing' held him in place. They
      were chest to chest and the dying one leant forward and grabbed the sides
      of the killer. His hands moved from corded shoulders to over arms and
      under arms. The hands moved down the under his sides, trying to hold onto
      life and to keep himself standing. The sneering guy held his weapon true
      and steady, his slicked back black hair gleaming. The kid looked at his
      eyes and saw only coldness. The killer laughed. The kid drooped his head
      down onto the killer's right shoulder and started his long descent to the
      ground, sliding slowly along the killer's massive body. His face left
      saliva along the upper right pec and then slid slowly down the middle of
      the pecs, a deep indented valley from which his mouth would emerge onto
      the top of the upper abs. Then the middle. The killer's penis could be
      felt, wet and cumming, between the dying one's own pecs, as if it were
      made specifically for this moment, this member to fill it with a raging
      river of white cum as the loin cloth split and dropped to the floor.
      The youth finally fell, still trying to hold himself. His legs crumpled
      beneath him and his arms gave out and he collapsed back against the wall
      and under himself. The knife had been in him the whole time he was
      falling, the killer letting the natural falling allow the blade to rip him
      a vertical slit from belly button up to neck via the pec middle, all soft
      meat until hitting the sternum, such young bone. Then as the kid fell to
      his legs, the killer removed it.
      He sneered some more and turned to see who was left to kill. The kid
      falling didn't know it but he still had some life in him and he still had
      his small knife. He swiped and cut the tendons in the guy's calves on both
      legs. The guy turned but couldn't really. He fell and as he did, the youth
      brought himself up with every ounce he had, his own denim shorts revealing
      a spurting cock, a volcano. He dropped his knee and steadied his leg. The
      sneer dude fell across his knee and the small knife found its permanent
      place in the stretched out navel. Both guys fell, one on top the other and
      it was hard to tell which was which.
      Fred saw just three guys alive. Chuck looked away for a moment to check
      his own shorts. He has white stuff just at his head... this would be his
      second time that this happened.
      Fred watched more intently. The three guys picked each other off. A hot
      Latino, thinking he was going to be the winner, moved in, fast and quick,
      only to have a big muscled, unmoving German dude, a blond with the most
      massive frame and bulbous muscles in that room, just held out his long,
      thick sword and let the Latino impale himself on it. "Ha, I vin again,"
      the German said as the Latino realized what he ran onto. The Latino
      laughed.
      "Oh man, this feels awesome," he said.
      Chuck looked at Fred and then he noticed the switch blades.
      The Latino smiled and grabbed the thick sword in him. The German smiled
      back at him, "Enjoy it!" The sword moved in like it cut butter, soft,
      meaty but milky. The Latino fell.
      The German didn't wait for him to hit the ground. The only other guy alive
      came at him from behind. This guy had two short tridents. The German
      knocked one from this guy's hand. This guy had wt looking black hair,
      black eyes and a dark face, Italian or Spanish or both. Maybe a bit of
      Oriental in there too. The German thought he was some damned mixed breed.
      He would take him out easily, pluck his intestines out through his belly
      button and make him suffer the whole time.
      The second trident went down, too. The German swung his sword and then
      thrust for the stomach. The smaller but flexible and muscled opponent went
      down and hiding between the quavering bodies of dying hunk studs, he was
      able to charge the German's legs, biting them, picking up a knife out a
      guy's belly button and using it to cut his legs. The German found himself
      falling onto the pile of dead or dying bodies, many still warm. He tried
      to kick his way or roll his way off them. He succeeded and found bare
      floor.
      The black haired survivor found bare skin... the German's... using the
      German's own sword which he plucked out of his hand, the black haired dude
      moved the point downward. The German, on his back, moved to hold the sword
      away from his belly button but the black haired guy put all his weight on
      it. The German, to his credit, held that sword up a bit and away. He
      closed his eyes in stress of moving it up. The black haired guy laughed
      and thought, "Gee, you're a strong one. It'll feel good if it goes in as
      you are at the height of your strength...dying just as you proved it."
      "You insane!"
      "We all must be," the dark haired guy laughed and laughed again. He made
      the sword point find its master's belly hole and the German spasmed his
      back arched then sank as the sword sank with it, the dark haired guy moved
      it down ever so fast. Then he plucked it out quickly. The German's belly
      seemed to come with it and his penis came with it...white stuff all over
      as the German's fur lined shorts came off in the scuffle, held only by
      small strings as well.
      The dark haired guy didn't wait more than two seconds. He jabbed the sword
      back in the way it came out and moved it around. The German squirmed. As
      he did, his hand found a short spear and he flung it up at the dark haired
      one's belly button. It hit. The dark hair guy fell, shocked. Seeing a long
      thing sticking out of, or rather into his belly button that once was. Goo.
      Gore. A slight trickle of blood from the tight navel. He leaned forward
      and fell, holding onto the sword in the German guy, causing him to yell
      with anguish and pain. Moans from both. "GRRRRRRRR," from the dark one as
      he shoved the sword in and now moved it on an angle away from the upper
      body, ripping vitals in the upper body while heading for the torso,
      tilting the sword. The spear in him had its end caught on the hard thighs
      of the German and it found its way deeper. Both seemed to be pressing
      their weapons into the other even as the dark one fell onto the other. The
      spear slid deep in. The sword hit floor under the German. The black haired
      dude slipped down the spear. Sheshkebobbed. His body was caught,
      shivering. The German died. The dark haired guy died, almost at the same
      time.
      Fred and Chuck couldn't talk, couldn't move. All was quiet again. All
      below were finally dead. The groans and moans stopped. The spurting of
      bodies dried up.
      Fred said, "Hey, think fast!"
      Chuck turned and caught one of the switch blades. "What? What are ya
      doing?"
      "Let's play as if we r them."
      "You..." Chuck thought about it and then smiled, one hand absently rubbing
      along his smooth tanned belly, hairless and boyish. Chuck said,
      "When...you say the word."
      Fred rushed without waiting, "Now!"
      They grappled. Chuck held Fred's wrist with the knife while Fred grabbed
      Chuck's hand with the knife. Fred tried to swing Chuck to an awning off
      the roof and then let go of Chuck's wrist. Chuck allowed his knife to
      swipe at Fred's pecs and slightly sliced across them, giving a long indent
      line of red along Fred's impressive for his age chest. "Hey man, are
      you...?" Chuck stopped.
      Fred looked at his blood, and smiled, "For real, man! Totally rad!" He
      moved at Chuck, taking him off guard. Chuck's blade fell and Fred held his
      switch blade into Chuck's delicate tummy hole. Chuck didn't dare move. Yet
      he did. His penis spurted and his torso moved forward with his hips. They
      thrust his deep belly button onto the knife. Fred backed it out somewhat
      but about an inch or move was in Chuck. Chuck's hands flew out from his
      sides, "Arrrgghhh. Awww, right!" What started as a groan of pain was
      sounding more and more like pleasure moans during sex! "Ow! Do it to me!"
      Fred moved back and took the knife out, "Can't. Too wild, man."
      "Then what?" Chuck saw him nod.
      "Go on, pick it up," Fred said.
      Chuck smiled, "Then you do want to continue?" He moved past Fred's bloody
      knife point, not aware of the blood that trickled a bit down his navel and
      across his bare youg man belly to his shorts. As he stretched to avoid
      Fred's knife point which Fred moved back in toward the stomach, slightly
      touching the belly button ridge, Chuck's navel seemed to change, the ridge
      became even more intense and tight. The inside was a bit more shallow but
      still had all those folds in it. There was a small red hole in there too!
      Fred saw it. Chuck leaned down, backward a bit, not taking his eyes off
      Fred and the sword point leaning on his navel. He reached back for the
      blade but couldn't see it now. To get his bearing on it, he took his eyes
      off the Fred blade and looked down. He grabbed it but as he did, Fred
      struck home.
      The switchblade went into Chuck's belly, the tight button feeling it
      intensely and hotly. Chuck went from the outstretched belly to a doubled
      up position, then arched to a backward position. He shut his eyes as an
      intent faced Fred jabbed one jab inward and kept it there. "You said to
      pick it up."
      "I lied, of course. Fool!"
      "Wanted to continue," Chuck groaned, opened his eyes in shock.
      "...yeah, to live, fool. YOu are no fighter."
      Chuck went down onto his back and Fred followed, one knee on the side of
      Chuck and the other leg bent with the foot on the ground flat. Fred held
      the knife in place and stuck down, then swished the knife around, pivoting
      it from the belly button. Chuck threw his head back wildly and grit his
      teeth and then yelled. Fred laughed.
      "Feel good now!?!?"
      Chuck grabbed Fred's hands as Fred used both to swish the knife through
      the intestines. Chuck used both his hands and they both realized that
      Chuck still held the switchblade Fred faked he would let him pick up. For
      Fred, it was a realization that came too late. Fred found his belly button
      gone. The tightness of his abs holding the knife in him like it was a part
      of him. He came. All over his own abs, filling it like rain fills a sump.
      He fell on top Chuck and both felt the knives go into them as the other's
      body pressed on the the handle.
      In the morning, the janitor would find them all like this, a member of
      this cult too. He would take pictures and post them. He also had a camera
      filming the whole battle. Pictures would be made from this too. A security
      camera on the roof picked up the two youg men battling. It would all make
      quite a web site.
      Well, we can dream, can't we?
      THE END
      Story by J