Date: Fri, 06 Jun 2008 21:48:49 -0400
From: J
Subject: TRIO 37

Dedicated to Roger Peyerfitte who wrote the novel THIS SPECIAL FRIENDSHIP.

Surrounded by hot, sweaty glistening bodies in motion. Musclemen. Lean
stomachs. Chiseled abs. Youth in battle. Knobs of navels and flat
bellies. This is the way I predicted I would die, not that I mind at all,
it's how I wanted it. Not that I didn't fight to win. I did fight to win
which is what turned me on majorly. Big hard on, raging under tight spandex
shorts. All around me I could glimpse broad shoulders, bulging arms, moving
in and out as swords found flesh. The cries of the stuck-like-a-pig as well
as the gasps of the dying. Manly heads plunging down slowly to the ground
as others watch impassive or move on to the next kill. Sometimes two would
go down together. The yelps of the victorious sometimes turning to the
cries of the gut stuck. Pride cometh before a fall...or in this case a gut
stab to the thick outtie belly button. My rock hard bone head strained wet
and slick against the shorts innards. Occasionally a body would bump into
my own, my bare back feeling another bare back or the biceps or triceps of
an arm, an arm about to jab a sword into a thick gut or an arm about to
wrap around its own body as it got stuck and slid down to the infinity. I
puffed up my chest. I was strong, it was big. My nipples were hard. The
youth I fought now (I felt good since I killed about ten already) was
smaller and younger. The ten I killed...it felt so good to get something
metal into their hot warm bodies. To bury my sword point into their thick
guts. To move it around and cause them pain. But in this major battle
between large groups of warriors, there was not time to gloat or enjoy
it...much. Stick and move on. Don't wait till the other is dead before
stabbing a point into another gut hole. I love aiming at the belly button,
that nice round target of flesh that sticks out on smooth flat flesh.
Sometimes with or without a thick ridge or semi ridge. I did so many
different types among those ten. I knew I would do more...oh shit! Fuck!
Argggghhh. "You got me," I snorted to the kid. The kid looked as surprised
as I did. Wide eyed. Happy. Half smiling now. Abs wash with tightness as
they stuck in on themselves. His arm flexed as he drove that damn long
metal sword into my abs. I felt it pop deep in the knot behind my ridge. I
dropped my sword and reached out for him. I saw him back away a bit and
felt that metal slide out of my navel hole a bit. "No, no, put it back
in. Come back, man! Fuck good!"  I reached out and grabbed the hilt with
two hands and shoved hard back into my belly hole. I gasped air in and
puffed up my chest. The kid looked at me with a mean face now. Still
smiling but a full smile this time. My pre cum raged to a slick, thick
wetness sloshing around my shorts. I stuck myself more and stumbled forward
a bit.

"Give it here!"  The youth said. He had big brown eyes, a small mouth with
semi thick lips. A slight goatee on his chin and veins all over his arms
and shoulders. "Let me entertain that gut!"  He shoved it in and I heard
and felt the knob pop and tear. The metal slid in more and more and I could
feel it thrash with my inner meat. "Oh that feels hurtful dude!"


"Oh yeah, give it in to me!"

The kid was stabbed from behind. A sword point went into his back and out
his outtie belly button. A ridge he had disassembled itself from his flat
veined stomach and hung limp over his bare lower belly. Guts dripped over
it with some blood and juice. He looked down with an incredible distorted
mouth, it was so hot. I cam as I opened my shorts and the cum flew into his
mouth.

But this was not the beginning. I was a guard in Nolo's regime. Nothing
could touch the castle fortress Nolo had. Or so I thought. That was before
Trio's friends...well, I am not sure they were all Trio's friends...that
one Simon, the traitor, was. The others, like this brown haired, black
haired youth dying in front of me as he slew me, just seemed to like the
killing. The slaying. Bloodlust.

It began before they arrived. A large troupe. It seemed to be one of our
units but they just had our units' outfits. They killed a whole unit out
there...I wondered who did what...

"Blade..."  Simon called out. He handed the tall, thin stomached smooth
skinned man a loin cloth from one of the guards and a helmet.

"We have to war these?"

"Only until we surprise the guards."  Simon laughed, "Don't like em?"

"I signed on to kill! Not play dress up."

"Well, you're hardly dressed up in anything...and we just killed a whole
troupe..."

Blade grabbed the helmet and loin cloth from Simon's grip. "I'm itching for
a fight. I want to bury my blade in someone's belly button, deep, real
deep!"

"Save it for Nolo's guards and Thoros warriors."  Simon nodded as Blade
moved on, "Casm."

"Johnno..."

"Wiz."

"Oh, I don't use swords," Wiz said, "Usually. I'll pass."

"Put a helmet on anyway..."  Simon said, "We need it to look like a
troupe..."

"They look so rag tag..."

"They are, that's why Nolo's gotten them to take so many prisoners," Simon
said.




"Timord..."

"And my androids..."

"And your androids....wow! They are full bodied men!"

"I wanna fight too," a very skinny, very young Filipino boy in a
skin-tight-floss-up-his-ass-leather thong stepped forward.

"Oh, he's my companion Dioin," Timord said, "He's good for traveling in
time with me but he can't fight a tit."

Simon frowned at the Filipino boy, who just waved a sword and said, "I can
sneak up behind them and thrust it into their bellies from around back...or
in their back and out their belly buttons..."

"He has spunk..."  Simon said and handed him a thin uniform...the thong of
a Nolo warrior guard.

"You don't know the half of it. His spunk is thick and ...."  Timord
smiled, "Creamy....yum."

"Sven...Ama...Smof..Binfo...Lin...Maro...Dimitri..."

When he was finished, Simon called Casm over, "Okay, what's with Wiz?"

After given the helmet, Wiz sat crosslegged on the stomach of a giant
Thoros warrior, who was dead and now naked. Wiz stuck a knife into the
warrior's stomach belly button. His dick rose up against the knife and Wiz
closed his eyes.

"He is in communication with the other one, the Seer and the Boy..."

"Okay, can you give me some info about this Boy...why is everyone after
him? And why does he seem to have some powers but never use them?"

"I can only tell you some of what is. I only know some of it."

"How did you find out?"

"Wiz told me some of it. The Seer related some of it to me in my dreams and
I think even my former Master, the Master of Trio--Feng told me during his
visit two nights ago."  Casm stopped to look at Wiz, "I think...a lot of it
is foggy. Hazy. I think he is asking for their help."  Casm lead Simon to a
small brook away from the bodies and the other warriors on their side. They
sat down near the brook. Casm put his feet in the water. Eventually Simon
sat next to him and put an arm around his back.

"Go on, what happened?"


"This boy was part English, part French. He did nothing wrong but he was in
a strict Catholic boarding school on the Real World Earth. A boy a bit
older than him snitched on two other boys who fell in love and they got
kicked out of school, the both of them. The older boy, named Georges, then
fell in love with the boy we know only as Boy but who is really named
Alexandre Motier. They never did anything sexual and in fact only Alexandre
kissed Georges once. A priest saw them wrestling and assumed they were in a
sexual affair. This priest tried to stop this without a further scandal. He
made Georges return the letters he wrote to Alexandre...love letters. In a
fit of despondency, on the way home for the holidays, Alexandre ripped up
the letters Georges returned to him and then Alexandre jumped off the
speeding train he was on..."

"So he died?"  Simon asked, confused.

"I don't think so. That part is sketchy. I think when he jumped, a wormhole
caught him up and took him here to this place...he was in shock. That's why
he never talked. I think he still hasn't recovered his speech..."

"That's really sad, you know?"

"Yeah, but...but...at least he survived," Casm said.

"Yeah, to find himself here...why does everyone want him though? I mean,
he's like us, trapped here or he was before Wiz and the Seer took him
away. But why?"

"I think they are training him. Wiz wouldn't tell me much about this. He
said the less I knew the better. I guess others could be aware of our
thoughts or get it out of us somehow."

"I get that. But why is he so different?"  Simon asked, putting a hand on
Casm's shoulder.

"It could be the properties of the particular hole he fell through, I
dunno. I do know that he might be the way out of this hellhole."

Simon's eyes lit up, "A way...out...you mean back...back to..."

"Yeah, back to the Real Earth and the Real Time," Casm said, "And that is
why Nolo wanted him. I think Nolo wants to get out of here as bad as some
of us do."

"You seem to have forged a good life...here."

"Not really. There's always someone trying to kill me or prove something or
call me something..."

"It is worse here," Simon admitted, "But anyone could die any where at any
time. Knowing Nolo, not well, but knowing him as a former ally of his..."



"For what, about two minutes?"  Casm laughed.

"Well, it counted," Simon said, "I suspect he just doesn't want anyone else
to get back to their rightful time and place. He wants us all here so he
can rule over us."

"Hey," they heard a slim blond with tight buttocks say, "That one is still
alive."  They heard the sliding of a metal sword fsshing out of a holster,
the giggle of the blond boy, and the crunching of flesh as a sharp metal
point hit it. At the same time, the guy on the ground grunted and
gasped. His pelvis rose as the sword went down. Then he lowered. The sword
came out and went back in, thrashing his once again rising pelvis back
down. Simon nodded and Casm smiled. "Ahaha, that felt good."

TO BE CONTINUED...