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