He happened upon an enemy in the forest. This young warrior, not even a real warrior yet, was strewn across the cold rock with his back to it. He was asleep in just his loin cloth. Probably just swimming in the nearby river as a few droplets of water pooled in his lovely belly button, heavily ridged and innie but with a slice of outtie stickin up. His muscles for one so young were clever and cut. He probably wasn't through the ritual yet.

He, a warrior proving his manhood, about the same age as the sleeping muscle kid, snuck up on the bare belly. It looked so lovely, so inviting, so lonely there, puffing quietly in and out with the warm summer wind in this land of freedom and movement. Life...and death...and rebirth. He wore almost the same thing, except he had on long breech leggins instead of a loin cloth. The kid sleeping had wet silked back hair, a long mane of pretty black. His arms, well musculed, were up behind his head and his legs hung limply, his ankles off the rock a bit and he moved in his sleep but not much. Sneaking up on him the enemy's eyes widened, not at the movement, but at the wonderful belly button, which look forlorn with nothing in it. The warrior boy crunched on some leaves as he walked but this did not make the sleeping one stir. The one over him took out a wooden knife, sharpened by him just an hour ago. Sharp to a fine point, a point almost invisible it was so tipped. He raised his hand high in the air anticipating the motion downward and the feel of a live mass of squirming muscle beneath, attached to a live boy. And every move he would make, would make the knife hurt him more...every move would drive the killer wild with erotic frenzy, causing him to stab deeper, move it around in there and cause undo pain and suffering. Maybe he would like it, too.

With his free hand, he rubbed his own belly, a nice ring of boy meat around it and a wide but not very deep, nor very shallow wall behind and in. He fingered it and took his hand out to smell the lingering lint. He looked a great deal like the boy on the rock, almost twins. He was redder from the sun, whereas the boy on the rock, stretched out with bare boy belly free to world, hairless as he, was darker, tanned.

He brought the knife down to the boy's navel, let it linger just above. He moved it down a bit more so as to just touch. A quick jab in from here? Or another raise up and a swift downer into him and out again? Or just in and stay in? Move it around? So many choices! He was here for his mercy...or not.

He raised the knife again and as he did, he brought his knee to the rock to get closer and absently took his other knee up to the rock too. In so doing, he kneed the kid, who awoke with a start. The first thing he saw was the descending brown of the knife and the point, sharp as can be blotting out his sun. He breathed air in but let it out as the knife found its spot.

His swishy belly button was even more swishy now. The point drove down and down. Then stopped, somewhere between navel and spine. The kid sticking the boy...

The kid stickin the boy felt warm inside and his penis jumped almost as high as the knife was low. He smiled as the boy's belly sank, trying to get away from the pain and the point but couldn't sink low enough for the kid followed with every move, down, deep, lower, into, into.... The boy beneath squirmed just as the kid had anticipated and it felt good to have something live under a weapon wielded by your own hand. Something whose tries to cling to life were just making it easier to give out the pain and death to it, it causing its own very demise, or at least in movement, voluntary or involuntary, adding to the sharp drill going into the belly tunnel, making it a new shaft inward. The boy below knew it was useless and suddenly he seemed to think it wasn't. His muscles bulged outward, seemingly moving up around the point of the knife, his abs tightening more and more until they looked like mountains around a lightning rod. A teepee pole stickin into a hilly landscape.

The boy's own teepee, the flesh one, was rising out of the loin cloth. Translation of the kid stickin: "Damned! You enjoyin this as much as I am! Feels good to ya! Die like a warrior should for even though you are not one in the eyes of your people or mine, nor am I, yet, you die like one, therefore you are one!"

The boy below heard but closed his eyes in pain and grit his teeth and began to groan and moan, almost as much as the kid did---but the moans were different, both erotic somehow but one from the boy of pain and torturous pleasure, the one from the kid of pleasure and victory.

The dying boy saw this ---some kind of spirit vision but from where? He saw:

A metal shaft of spear driven death! Out your bare muscled back! Cuttin your long outtie navel to bits and then makin a new one into your belly hole. A hole within a hole! Feel it man! A small knife digging in and around, twisting, gorging, goring, in, out, half out, half in, half sideways! A long sword of steel! A small pin of long stikcin quality going in so much that by the time you feel it's pin length, it will be half way on its route out your friggin back! You got me hot with your stories! Do more! Pop! Right out your back. You lean forward to try to bear it but you can't! Gore is on the spear, knife, sword out your back. Someone comes along and pulls on it from behind you but you, feeling more pain that way but happy to feel pain, pull on it from your front. What the hell, you figure, might as well have a tug of war with the shaft in ya! It feels soooooo fiiiiiiiiiinnnnneeeeenugh! Pre cum! Cum! Barrels of cum! Shooting pleasure right over the shaft in your belly! Fuck yah! Damned pain, it comes out in your hands, out of your belly but the pain remains and air fills the gap! Diuggghheeeeuggg! Feel it, roll down and around, jerk to your death pains, ride the pain, quiver, shake, jerk, rattle, chill, heat up! Fuckin cool! Stab yourself in the same spot but move it on different angles! Roll onto your belly with something in it! Jerk onto the blade and let it fill you! Roll onto your back and let three shirtless boys jab down continously with spear headed shafts, aiming mostly for your belly button area or what was left of it but also rubbing along your leg headed at your penis, bare of pubes, white boy belly covered in dripping cum, blood, yellow liquid, gut stuff, intestine parts, butchered flesh turned inside out, and just plain laid bare muscle! Cords everywhere. The three boys have a picnic and stab in and out, in and out, in, in, in, out, out, out. In again and again and again. Rub up the leg to the penis, jab in quickly, out and into the belly button area again. One feels the ground beneath his spear. Another can't get his spear out of you n the other cannot since he has speared the ground beneath you so hard, it won't come out. You come out, and cum and cum...splash!!! You grab the spear stuck through you into the ground and use it to hold yourself. You lift you back up and try to get your feet under you. You fail and fall down the shaft a few times but finally you are able to stand on it. The three boys watch in amazement. The one with his spear left nods to the others. They pull their spears, letting you stand there for a moment. They all focus the points on your bare boy belly, butchered though it be. They home in on where the button would have been had it not been depressed in by them so much. As one they charge the point RIGHT IN YA! You wave your hands around and grab all three spears and fall off them. They won't relent and follow you down, stickin and stickin until they are sure all the jerkin and jumping is out of ya. Die!!!! In their blood lust, they turn their spears on one another, good friends, brothers maybe. They look like a triangle from above as each sticks the other in the boyish belly button, caught together by the points. They move closer to each other, the spears back out of their backs and go into the other, now all are stuck by more than one spear. They rush at each other with knives in their other hands, driven out of their belts in their blood frenzy. It is no use. They fall from the spears not being able to allow them to manevuer. A small boy comes over them. He smiles and moves all the weapons in the dying three around and hears them moan some more. It is music to his ears. He pulls the spears out of the dead other one--you and hears the air fill the barren previously navel holed carcass. The other three boys die slowly as the boy steps on them with bare feet. Parts of their soft boy meat caves in and his foot is in gore. He laughs and runs off to find his best friend for a finale fight to their deaths. He will win, he will lose.

He didn't know what it meant but he felt it. And hhis penis erupted like a volcano, erupting from his loin cloth from under, the penis almost discarding it totally. The killer kid felt his hands wrapped by muscle and gore and realized his hand went into the other boy's stomach---his knife pratically lost within, embedded and perhaps surrounded if he let it go. He did. He withdrew his hand and took his foot, balancing himself on the rock, and stepped on the boy's stomach to drive the knife down into scraping the rock beneath the flesh, the flesh and boy spine nothing to it! The boy screamed and grabbed the kid's foot. The kid fell back and as he fell the spear attached to a strap around his shoulder, fell off and hit a smaller rock below. The spear point edged upward. The kid tried to turn to catch it but the point drove into his skin---the dying boy, still screaming in total pain, was able to move it with his hand and directed it into the kid's chest and moved it downward to the kid's bare belly, tearing deeply only when reaching navel. He lopped it in and dug some out, then died, his hand still fisted around the spear. The kid felt it in him and tried to get off, causing himself pain. He pulled it out and butchered his own belly button doing it. He then raised it high and stuck it into the boy's belly, feeling it scrap and stratch on the buried knife. Then the kid fell, his upper chest falling onto the dead boy. The spear was in the dead boy and he leant on it to steady himself, then fell off even the rock. On the leaf covered ground, he managed to pull out a smaller knife from his leg holster and cut into his stomach so much, left and right, right and left, up and down, cutting his intestines out and open. Steaming, smoke from the innards. With a pleasant huff, he died but not before cumming so high he hit the rock and cum flew up onto the dead boy's bare chest, covering the nipples in a lake of white. Random thoughts of the "in pain": DIE WITH YOUR NAVEL THE TARGET!!!! We did it he thought as they both gave up the battle.