A knife stuck out of Karl’s belly. I had shoved it into his six pak abs, just above his belly button. Six inches in. The guard so tight against his smooth, young skin that no blood seeped out. I wanted to watch him slowly die.
Karl was nineteen, short and extremely muscular, as gymnasts are, and which he was. So talented that he just missed making the national team. After he passed out, it took a while for me to decide what to do with him. I had a new a six inch bayonet knife and was determined to put it to use on him. He was so beautiful and sexy, I was tempted to slice him up to obliterate all that beauty. But they say “Less is more”.
I propped his unconscious body in a wooden chair. Feet and legs firmly bound to the chair legs. His wrists tied behind the chairback. His head drooped off to one side. I shot him up with a mix of morphine and LSD. Then shot liquid Viagra into the base of his cock, which produced a rock hard erection. I had shaved his crotch, so his dick seemed even longer than its nine inches. Little guys and muscle boys can sometimes surprise you with huge cocks. With his dick at full attention, I put the point of my new toy to his belly and pushed. The blade slid easily through skin, muscle and guts until the guard was tight against his body. And there it stayed, immobile. No blood seeped out. No reaction from the unconscious Karl.
I knew how LSD affected the mind’s perceptions. On my first acid trip, I sat on the floor for hours, staring at a photo on the wall. It was just a guy in a suit, but my mind saw a sea captain who winked and talked to me. It was real. So, I drew a big yellow happy face on the end of the knife handle hoping the bright color might enhance Karl’s acid trip to Hell.
With a beer and snacks, I waited for my little gymnast to awake. For a while, nothing but the soft sound of his breathing which caused his chest to rise and fall. Then, at long last, a slight moan. I waited. His head moved a bit. Another moan. His eyes opened, blinking in the light. As he brought his head up, his eyes fell on me. But what did he see? Did he notice my own dick standing hard and tall? He kept looking at me, cocking his head back and forth in a quizzical manner. Cool. The acid was fucking with his mind and the morphine had deadened any pain the knife might have caused.
Finally, his eyes moved from me to his belly and the knife handle. He made an “uuhhhhh” sound, then another that sounded almost like a question. I imagined him thinking “What’s this?” He just kept looking at the knife, his head moving side to side as he tried to figure out what it was, concentrating hard. The whole time, these “uhhhh” sounds. I walked behind him, unnoticed, and untied his wrists and let his arms hang loose. One hand moved forward and a finger touched the knife where the happy face was. He smiled and let out a long, contented “Ahhhhhhhhhhh”. He continued to smile as his finger continued to lightly tough the handle. The other fingers moved, first just touching the end of the handle, then grasping it and pulling upwards. The knife didn’t move at first but then suddenly slid up and out of his belly. Blood oozed from the wound
His head tilted. “Uh, oh” he said softly, looking at me as if he had done something wrong. Quietly, I said “Put it back in, Karl. Plug the hole.” He smiled back and said in a spaced-out sing-song way, “OK”. He kept nodding as he put the knife point to the wound and pushed in in. As it slid back into his gut, he let out a little moan. Did he feel it? Possibly, because he pulled right out again.” I calmly coaxed him, “You didn’t get it in the right place. You have to find the right hole. Try again.” Once more, he smiled and nodded. “OK. Plug, plug the hole.” And pushed the knife back in. This was SO FUCKING COOL! This spaced-out asshole was STABBING HIMSELF, shoving a knife into his own gorgeous belly. The bleeding didn’t stop, so he pushed the blade again, and again. Each time he failed, he tried again. Maybe seven or eight times. His frustration increased until he got so angry he threw the knife on the floor and simply tried to staunch the blood by covering himself with his hands.
I went to him and moved his hands. “Let me see what I can do.” I slipped a finger into the hole. Christ, what a sensation! I could feel where he had sliced his ab muscle. And further in, his intestines. Oh, how I wanted to put my mouth to his wound and suck and drink! Instead, I hooked my finger around something and pulled. Karl groaned as I withdrew. Hooked on my finger was a loop of his intestine. I let loose and it stayed there, a soft warm piece of his gut, but no longer inside his belly. He stopped groaning and again looked quizzically at it, then touched it, and slid a finger into the loop. “Pull on it, Karl. Pull it out to stuff the hole and stop the bleeding.” And fuck if he didn’t pull on it! First with just two fingers and then, with both hands. He kept on. Pulling. Pulling. Blood was running down his crotch, puddling under his butt and at his feet. Blood splattered his chest and face as he YANKED OUT HIS GUTS! He made loud growling guttural sounds as he pulled. Tears of frustration ran down his cheeks. And tears of pain?
Suddenly, he stopped pulling and became quiet. He placed his hands over the bloody pile and just sat there. Then, very gently, the poor sap tried to push the intestines back into his belly. No. That didn’t work. Eventually, he let his hands drop to his sides and he cried. A pathetic piece of shit. I knelt naked before him and pushed my face into the gore. My dick was already quivering wildly and the moment my face hit the slop, I shot my load, a huge continuing stream, and as my cum spewed out, my mouth sucked and gnawed at Karl’s bloody guts. I don’t remember hearing him yell, but I felt his body convulsing under me. His hands smacked at my head but he had no strength left to do any harm. When I finished cumming, I rested with my face still in the pile. In my mouth was the foul taste of partially digested food, but that was offset by the acrid smell and sweet taste of fresh hot blood.
When I stood up, Karl was just sitting quietly, tears still running down his cheeks, arms at his side. His eyes were open and followed my movements, but they seemed uncomprehending. He had been slowly bleeding out for a while now and was getting weak. I sat on his lap, facing him, letting his still-hard dick slide up my hole. My face covered with his blood as I kissed his lips. Those beautiful lips that had tasted so sweet, now even more sensuous smeared with his own gut blood. I continued to kiss him, deeply. I was in love. I felt his warm breath on my face. I wondered what his spaced-out brain was comprehending? His face, now so bloody, was blank. But still beautiful. That beautiful face had smiled at me, beckoned to me, enticed me, seduced me. The room was quiet, no sound but his soft breathing. And, soon, it stopped.