THE CHALLENGE:

Lookin for a blade fight...you aiming yours at me, dude? I'm armed.

THE ACCEPTANCE:

I'll take you on even though I am not very confident. In a way, I want you to rip open my own navel as I feel your hot steel inside of it, gushing through me and my flesh, your hand pressing, eventually against my belly. But in another way, I wanna stick mine inside you and jab until I can feel my own hand getting inside the big belly wound. I imagine this before we fight. I am hard and that might make me giddy for the battle. I will wrtie more later tnogith. Owwwwwohhhoh, wet man. I'll get you tonight muscle guy!

THE CONFIDENT CHALLENGER:

I'm facing you in a clearing in the woods way out in the country. Our bikes are parked at the edge. I'm in leather jeans, open jacket, no shirt, boots, the way I like to ride. I'm carrying a ten inch Bowie in one of my saddle bags. I pull it out and challenge you. One of us has to take a blade. Couple buddies from the bar are nearby watching to see everything is fair. I give you a choice of Bowies or your favorites... We fight in leather or stripped.. Your choice... a few beers.. Buddies dig a grave for one of us.... you ready to die, stud ?

THE TAKER:

Okay I am wearing a brown leather short cut shirt which ends at my nipples which are hard and round, firm and thick. My chest, while not Arnold type, is average enough to turn some heads. I am totally hairless on my body except for my head. My long brown hair is tied back into a knot. I have brown eyes and am not very tall, about 5'5, but more than make up for that in my quickness. You won't feel it at first but rest assured I will get that knife in ya before you even realize or feel it. My short cut shirt is sleeveless and clinging to me. I have red leather shorts that I always wear low on my hips, practically off my hips and onto my legs, nothing underneath. All of this shows off my just worked out tense abs and washboard stomach. I have on sneakers. Not to be outdone I chose a ten inch bowie knife as well. I wanna show I am as good as you and better. If I am not, then I deserve that double edged point bursting through my navel wall in a spasm of pain and pleasure. My button throbs with anticipation. It is an innie with a slight swirl and to my right an extension outward from the outer rim pointing an end toward the center and depending on the way I move, not quite making the center at times. At the end is a brown spotted beauty mark. Beyond that is a drop back to a split back wall. Split. Huh. You might split it more. My ridge around it was once solid and hard, sticking out of the belly more than it is now. I have been in gut punching fights and it is a bit less so. I have also stuck myself in preparation for this fight: nothing too extreme: toothpicks under me as I lay on the bed, screwdrivers against the wall and at my belly, a belt with a small and dull exacto knife between it and me belly button. I flex my arm muscles and puff up my chest as I see you approach, gripping the Bowie in your hand.

LAST MINUTE CHALLENGER THOUGHTS:

I can see you're a hot, cocky little fucker. Tight, slim fuckin' body perfect for slicin' Your leather shorts and top are a turn on for me... Though I love the feel of plain, worn unlined black leather over my chest. The way the open jacket moves over my pierced and ringed nipples as I move. Yeah, I wear a chain across my chest like that. I like the feel. I'm 150 pounds. six feet. blue eyes.. light brown hair. Light hair on my chest. Fairly slim build. 32/34 levis...low body fat.. moderate definition in pecs and abs... Like my levis low.. tight around crotch and thighs but loose in the waist so they ride low in front..exposing more to guys like you who think they'd like to take me out. Black boots.. That's the way I like to live at least on weekends. I do ride a bike when its warm enough.. nothing like it when your hard and you feel the leather...

Lets say we take each other on like that.. I like the way you look...Maybe I'll strip your ass after I kill you .. save the shorts and top as a souvenir..

Yeah, I'm in this fight for kicks... don't matter who gets cut. All the guys watchin' are hot to see one.. maybe both of us get it... We'd both get off just knowin they're being turned on like crazy... You're hot, fast and probably dangerous as hell... but If I can take you.. you'd die real pretty... a real treat... If I get it.. I'll take it like a guy should.. not afraid. Turned on.. If we both get it... maybe even hotter....

Go ahead... dude... ... I'd like to see just what kind of crazy, wild little fucker you are... Come on... I'm waitin... make your play...winner take all die hard...

THE FIGHT TO THE END:

You call me a little squirt. I smile, "You gonna squirt your belly innards all over the ground." This makes you laugh and the guys watching are also. I admit to myself that seeing you makes me lose some confidence. You pretty much tower over me. Your chest is better defined tham mine. I may be in way over my head here. I don't care, I won't back out now. It's all or nothing. Perhaps I can just keep moving and hope to get in a few good shots. Maybe I will let you maneuver you long, thick double edge pointed blade into my belly but I will have to guide you there. There ain't many dudes who go for that spot. They usually aim for the heart.

Hell, I think to myself. I am finishing myself off before we start. I am sweating, hoping you won't see. You do. Rivulets of sweat form between my pecs and drip down to my navel, making it luster. I don't wait for anything, no bullshit. I walk right up to you...steadily with my firm grasp on the knife in my right hand. I am ambidextrous...I can strike into ya with either hand. I move at you and can tell you thinkin' this gonna be easy.

Just before I get within striking range of you, I feign to the left, duck under your swiping knife and move right, slashing your well muscled leg on the top. I dash around to your back. You don't even know where I am but you swipe a good one past where I was at your leg. I wanna move even faster but the rock hard six inches in my shorts is making it...hard. On top of that I can feel the pre cum line starting down my thin scrotum. I can easily stick your back now but I merely slice lightly across it. I round down as you swipe around and then you move your knife down so as to stick from on below up into my lower regions. I fake to your right but move left.

"Will ya stand still so I can slice ya!" You say.

"Die off!" I yell. You move your arm at me, the one with the knife. I swipe at your free hand which is moving to grab my brown leather. I grab your knife arm but you force me back into a tree and the knife is moving at my lower chest. I struggle to move it away but it succeeds only in getting under the bottom of my short cut shirt. It rips the leather and you deliberately cut upward so as to slice the shirt in half. I kick from under and cut the top of your wrist on your free hand. You move back and so do I.

Throwing off the remains of my brown leather top, I back flip away as you move in full force toward me, your big six foot frame imposing over me. I realize my mistake--I should have kept backflipping but I try to stand my ground. Your whole body covers me in a moment. I am in your deadly grip, which surprises me, not because I am cocky but because I would have expected hot deadly burning steel in my flesh, not some bear hug. "Hey fag, lemme go!" I creak, knowing I am done for. Yet my hand can swivel. I swivel my wrist which manages to cut your side lightly. I push and the blade goes in. You let me go and yelp. I kick hard into your groin...a girlie move, yes, but a good one. You double over. I race around to your other side and pull the chain holding your nipples together. The nipples break in two and come blood poppin off.

"That's it!" You scream after you recover from this pain as best you can.

I am behind you again and you whirl, your knife slicing. I rush forward, jump up at your chest and move down. You don't realize it but your cut already. My ten inch blade has lightly cut your upper abs but as I landed, I let my knife slide deeper and deeper as it scratched the upper belly to your lower navel---digging in deep at the navel, which was big and round and fleshy. I let it sink in.

"Fuck you!" You say.

"No, man, my knife is fuckin you!" I smile.

I think I can stop now. I want to enjoy my blood engorged member now. Wrong. Your arm flashes up and with it, the knife in your hand cuts upward into my navel, moving through it and continuing. I gasp backward, and race back, off it. The gleaming blade inches out from going up me. I bring hand to deep cut. My knife exits your navel but you keep moving at me. I fall back and land on my back. I grab at my cut with one hand, still holding the bowie in the other. You move down to move my hand to see your handiwork. You look, then look up at your pals who are egging you and me on. They are cheering for death now in their many ways. Pricks. I am ready to feel your shaft pole into my belly button to the grass under my bony back. But you don't...yet. You lean down again. Suddenly, I toss my knife to the hand over my belly and thrust up into you.

Your belly gets it again, this time deeper. I quickly move my newly freed hand to hold my stomach contents in and together long enough for me to git ya. I double up and bring my knees up, bending them so as to quickly get to my feet. I am crouched under you with my one hand holding the knife at an angle which I straighten dead on. I shove deeply. I try to gouge around so as to miss anything you might stab at me but too late. Your blade find its way back into my butchered belly. My ridge around my stomach is gone, cut in three neat bleedin pieces. The beauty mark on my belly button is cut out and rolls onto the ground, forgotten.

I try to move back again but you won't let me. "Not this time, little fucker! Die! Feel it good!" You press your advantage. You toss yourself into me. I am forced by your weight to let go of my knife but I use your own method. I press my bare body into your own, my chest hitting the handle of my knife in your stomach.I bend into it and it sinks deeper up to the hilt. I can imagine it out your bare back now. Your stabbing has lifted me off my feet and your Bowie is out my lower back now. The guys watching from that side have an excellent view of my innards sticking out with your cold steel. Pushing me forward but in great pain as I heave what little weight I can into your belly, pushing on my Bowie in ya, you trip and fall ontop of me.

Your crushing weight hits the Bowie knife in me up to the hilt and past that so that your hand is buried into my bloody pulp of a once-stomach. At the same time, I am feeling the handle of my blade on my thigh, not far from my penis. I force it more. It somehow landed there--your belly is near my thigh and as I move inward, your belly button is meshed in more and more, I wriggle my legs and the few spots not taken be my knife mutilates it. We lock in an embrace again, this time tighter and then somehow I get you to roll. You seemed to want to. Almost giving in to it as if this were sex. And it was. We both came. My penis emitted from my red shorts, now bloodied with unseen blood, mixing with the color of my shorts. We roll and roll...right into the grave the buddies dug for us. A steel rod not yet removed goes through your back, out your belly and into my left thigh not far from my dick. We kick and writhe, the dirt flying off of us. Theshaking feels like an earthquake. Gusher after gusher of cum spills out of both of us. The two of us are still there, embraced and covered in dirt.

DEAD!