Date: Sat, 28 Sep 2013 18:01:36 -0400 (EDT) From: J Subject: TRIO SPINOFF 1: Arena: The Opening TRIO: ARENA: a spinoff: THE OPENING PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY. GIVE, GIVE, GIVE TO IT anything will help it stay open, go to the donations page please! The stables had been closed for many years and the gladiator boys languished within the separate camps. The start of it had been when Igno was surreptitiously murdered in his navel in his bed. No weapon was found but it was clear a pointed knife was used to drive a path through Igno's navel wall out his back into the bed below. He died slowly and in pain and agony...and if the boys believed reports, in sticky pleasure as well. It took a long time. Each and every boy, from the tallest to the oldest, when they heard the story of how it must have happened had their balls vacated and their soft cocks stiffened into quick erect hardness as their minds added the unknown details. The boy longed for the fight, most of them. Some knew escape was possible but not without a lot of deaths among their number. None of them had died since the arena gates were closed. At the time it was stated that it would only be until the murderer was found but since that never happened, neither did the gates open... Until one night, somehow, as yet unknown, the cell doors to a small set of boys on both Jim and Innout's slave rooms were opened. The boys in both sides thought maybe it was fellow gladiator boys who had escaped. It had been done by a few. From Innout's group, Ian, Ray, and Crete snuck out but as they met the exit gates on the wooden wall, they realized two things: weapon had been left out for them AND three other boys from Jim's stable were also freed. As it turned out they were in the arena where each picked up the non elaborate swords and semi long knives. Each boy had a sword and a knife. Immediate enemies due to constant rivalries and grudges built up over the years, instead of getting out of the gates, which appeared locked anyway, the two sets of boys met each other blades to blades... Ian was a 13 year old, energetic, but with a serious tone in his voice and with big brown eyes and hair. His body was completely muscled and his navel an innie outtie but mostly outtie. He was short, even at his age but he more than made up for it in bravery and speed. He never hesitates. Crete, his team mate, also had brown hair but greenish eyes and was taller. He also had a bit more body fat on him than Ian but that was not say that he didn't have a good body, a flat stomach, an innie navel surrounded by that curved ab look. He had his arm around his lover Ray, a much taller boy than both Ian and the 15 year old Crete. "We can take em, right, Ray." Ray smiled, an infectious one, for he was always light hearted with lighter hair and dark green eyes. He was also quite muscular in the arms and stomach and had a bigger chest than Ian, for he was close to 16 years of age. He was wet already and lunged at the boy named Maxar from Jim's stable... Maxar had piercing blue eyes and dark hair and a smooth look to his whole body. He also had an ample chest and nipples that stood out like pyramids. His arms were also big. He threw his knife at Ray but Ray knocked it aside with his sword, Ray snarled at him, "Ah ha, you already lost one weapon." Maxar was a man of few words. "No matter. It will only slow me up in putting the one I do have direct in your navel, pretty boy!" The two locked swords and pressed against each other and for a time it seemed neither could move against the other, so well matched they were. Ian threw himself full force at a boy almost two and a half times his own size and probably about four years older. Jayd was blond and a natural one as Maxar would attest. As his lover Maxar saw the blond pubes often enough...what little of them there were...Jayd also had a light covering of slight peach fuzz on his belly, a slight, almost invisible trail leading from their down to his dick. Which was as hard as all the other five boys. Engorged cocks made it harder for them to fight. "It's been a long time," the lightly freckled faced Jayd smiled, his blond eyebrows raising at Ian. "And you pick a fight you cannot win!" In his direct and quick manner, Ian held the sword back with is arm bent and his other hand beckoning Jayd as they parted from the initial strike against each other's weapons. "Come..." "I dink I already did," Jayd laughed. He flung himself at Ian but Ian jumped up high and with his chest out bumped it against Jayd's masculine chest mounds which could have been a mistake except for the fact that Ian's knife entered a twisting navel...twisting even more due to Ian's knife being there. Ian landed and dragged the knife with him, causing a long tear down Jayd's stomach...navel to lower belly and to where the dick would start. Jayd yelped and moved back, taking the knife out of his belly with the move alone. Ian looked at his own knife and held it up for Jayd to see. Ian smiled, `See I tole you." "You little runt, you...you got me." Ian smiled, "Uh huh." Instead of backing off as Jayd expected, for Jayd ran at him with a full hard on rage, Ian yelled a victory cry and ran at Jayd, dropping the knife, and slicing two lines across Jayd's belly button, one from one side and then brining the sword the other way to slice another one, two solid lines of an huge X holding, barely holding, the insides of Jayd in him. Jayd dropped his sword and held his stomach together but Ian moved in with a quick laugh and jabbed the sword direct into the navel, perpendicular to it. It ran out Jayd's bare, peach fur covered lower back and if anyone had seen it, it would have looked as if it belonged there for his entire life. "Feel that? Howzat feel?" Jayd himself felt at peace with the pain. "It feels..." "It feels good to kill somebody!" Jayd nodded, sinking to his knees...Ian holding the sword and allowing his hand to flow with the sinking...and then jabbing it a new way inside Jayd, who jerked his whole body and gasped. "OHHHHAAHH! It feels good to be kilt by you." "Thank you!" Ian said, "You are good...WERE good. I am bettahhh." "I die." "Die." At the same time, Maxar and Ray stabbed their swords into each other at the navels. Maxar's shallow semi was now deeply pushed and mangled inside himself. Ray's larger hole felt molested. They felt the pain at their navels, a pricking point entering where it should not roam and simultaneously, felt the tightness against their sword arm and the hand their sword held...tightness caused by their weapon entering solid muscle. They swallowed. In shock, they looked up at each other and their eyes grew wide with shock and then pain. Then, each recognized in the other, a sort of acceptance of the fact that they had their navels screwed by a sword. Again, at the same time, they plunged and each felt the same two feelings...of their sword hand encountering the resistance of the other boy's solid muscle behind ripped, torn navel AND the other boy's prick point entering through their rock hard body. They fell against each other and sank to knees, their dicks tore loose from their meager bonds and crossed swords while the real swords crossed internal muscle and other things innard. The boy's eyes looked down at their wounds and then back up into each other's eyes. Their penises let loose as their faces registered less shock and more a wide eyed love of what was happening. Then, both tried to grit teeth and put on a brave face as if they were tough enough to survive this...which they were not. They put on their toughest. Maxar gasped, "I will survive this. It not that bad." Ray snarled, "You won't. I will. You die." "You're both dying," Eero, one of Maxar's comrades, who fought Crete, giggled. He was 14 and locked in combat with Crete. Crete's sword was against Eero's sword as they passed the two stuck fighters Maxar and Ray. "NO!" Crete gasped and turned grab Ray's arm. Ray pulled free, "No! Don't touch me. It'll distract you." Ray shut his eyes. He leaned against Maxar the two of them splat loose, covering their muscled stomachs with huge gobs of rocketing cum which seemed to never stop shooting up and up at them from their uncut dicks...Then, as they leaned, their heads showed signs of rolling to one side so they put their heads against each other and rolled cheek to cheek before hitting each other's shoulders. Maxar's head hit Ray's bony shoulder and Ray's hit Maxar's corded muscles on his shoulder. They each tried to outlive the other but truth is as they fell and died kicking around each other's legs, cumming some more, they both died at the same time. Before dying, they felt more and more spasms of violent jerks overtaking them, whether they wanted the spasms to or not (They did and wanted it badly for it felt great!)! The two actually died trying to jerk their swords, both flesh and metal some more into each other, to cause pain and pleasure to the other and themselves. The sounds of their dying were exquisite to Ian, the dying Jayd (who added his own huffing groans and moans and yelps to the mix), and Eero. Only Crete lamented. Yet, he, too was hard and wet. In fact, as he fought, his dick shot even as he was not sure it was. He was amply distracted and while Eero grabbed his sword arm with one hand, dropping his own knife to do so, he rammed his sword right through Crete's belly button. Crete saw it coming, "NO! NO NOAW!" but could do nothing to stop it. His biceps strained as he tried to get free and with his knife hand, he swung at Eero. Eero laughed as he moved his belly away from the swipe. Even so, a light line of red appeared on his belly from hip to hip and it even encompassed his navel but it was a mere flesh wound. Eero removed the sword and did not let go of Crete's arm. He flung him to the nearby wall and the hit against it made Crete feel more pain. Ian ran up behind Eero but a swift backward kick put Ian to the dirt floor for a short time. "YES!" Eero said. "See how you like this." Eero recovered someone's knife from the ground...most of them discarded the knife to focus on their sword fighting. He moved to Crete and took Crete's two hands in one of his own and raised them over Crete's head so as not to have interference. Crete's tight bod was now stretched to the max, his abs noticeable and is curves making Eero almost relent and not do what he had to do: jab that knife in to that gnarled belly button. And jab he did. Crete gasped and huffed with the first strike. "How do you like them apples?" Crete's hands came loose and he folded over. Eero put an elbow into his bare back and made Crete get lower. Crete saw a chance now. Eero's sword was at their feet, also discarded now. Crete stooped lower and grabbed it up, brought up his knee into Eero's belly and pushed. As he did, he turned himself away from the wall and Eero toward it. In one move he jabbed the sword into Eero's belly button. "You thought you would win. But I think you gonna die. Die. Feel dat?" Eero threw his back to the wall and made his belly a small target by sucking in. It did not good. "You split me from navel to back! NAW!" He jabbed his knife back into Crete and they both started to fall. Crete gasped and shoved the sword in some more. Both boys looked at their own respective bellies. They almost got cum in their eyes as they, too, shot loads over themselves and each other, coating their peach colored, smooth hairless bodies in globs of eternal white. Crete gasped as he shook himself away from Eero and pulled the sword out, "N' wid your own sword." He watched over his shoulder as Eero fell, long, almost uncountable lines of thick youthful boy cum still connecting their navels, their abs, their lower bellies, and their dickheads. Crete wanted to shake loose but something made him realize he would die with the other boy. He sank down, "Ian, Ian. Help me." Crete was on his back and suffering. Eero, nearby, huffed his last. Crete arched up, his head and feet the only things on the ground. "I burn. Ian, are you able to help me?" Ian came by with a sword and ploughed point down into Crete's outreaching belly, belly button first. "I am." He shoved the blade down and out the back, the blade now connecting Crete to the ground. Crete gasped. "Th...thank...just something you hadta doooo...haaaa...peace at last aaahhhh..." Crete's body fell down the sword so that his back was on the bare dirt floor soon enough. He was still alive even then. Ian nodded and smiled, "Die well, my friend. Die, well. Fight well..." he jerked the sword out and Crete's body rose up again and his dick fired again. Ian shot a load again, too. "Die well." Ian put a foot on Crete's hip to remove the sword fully. Crete stirred and then with a lasting, seemingly peaceful huff, died, releasing a blast of air from his mouth with one last huff out. Ian was the only one alive. He made sure all the others ---even those still stirring---were slain at their navels---before the lights went on and he was in a spotlight. He could hardly see. "I suppose I am going to be kilt?" "No. Not at all. In fact, it gives us an idea. To re-open the arena..." "Cool. I'm still not satisfied with just stabbing these guys. I need more...I'm aching to do me some more slaying..."