Call Me Caleb (12): Gregory

callmecaleb

A man is a tasty morsel.
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Gregory liked to wrestle. I met him at the gym. Great looking guy. My height, about 165. Brownish hair, cut short. Somewhat slim but very muscular body. Luscious nipples on amazing pecs. Pure alabaster skin. Perfectly smooth. And even shaved his crotch. Wow! Fucking hot!

I spread out a mat in my playroom for us. Fortunately, the room was kind of clean. I kept the lights low so he wouldn’t notice all the hooks and pulleys. But he did anyway. “Bet you have fun in here sometimes.” “Sometimes.” “Well, not my thing. I just like to wrestle.” “Perfect.”

He stripped down to his red bikini shorts. I wore black briefs. He kept his wrestling boots on, so I wore my construction boots. He grinned as he looked at my body. “Wow, Caleb. You look fucking strong, powerful enough to squash me.” “Squash you?” “Yeah, squash me like a bug.” We stood facing each other, hands out, touching, feeling each other out. He grabbed first and quickly had me on my face, with my arm twisted behind my back. “Ha! You gotta be faster than that to beat me.” He let me up and we grappled some more. Every time he had the best of me, he seemed to loosen his grip so I could squirm out. I realized he wanted me to dominate him. So I worked harder, faster, trying to hurt him, and he seemed to like it. We were soaked with sweat and both our dicks were hard and huge and we ripped off our shorts.

This was fucking hot! Two sweaty men grappling, groping, grabbing each other. He was really into it, especially when I had him in a painful hold. And as for me, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. Hurting him just a little would soon lead to hurting him a lot. It was inevitable. Excruciating pain for him and sexual pleasure for me. That was the only reason he was here. To die. Painfully. By my hands.

It happened quickly. I had him in a standing position with his right arm up behind his back, and just gave it a yank, upward and to the side, dislocating it from his shoulder. Gregory screamed as I let him drop to the floor. Grabbing at his shoulder with his left hand, he writhed with pain, squealing a high pitched squeal. “Nooooo! Nooooo! You can’t…..! Not what we……!” He thrashed around on the floor. God! That was so hot, watching him squirm in pain. I thought, why not keep wrestling. To be sure, it was a bit one-sided. He couldn’t do much to fend me off, what with that shoulder. I body slammed him. Put on choke holds til his face turned blue. Twisted his good arm and his legs. Stood him up. Kneed him in his gut. Kneed him in his back. Picked him up and dropped him to the floor so he landed on the bad arm. The whole time, he was screaming, shouting, shrieking.

Finally, as he lay writhing on the floor, I stomped my boot into his gut, forcing the wind out of his lungs. Then another stomp for good measure. He stopped moving. Gasped to try to get air into his lungs. I removed his wrestling boots and rolled him onto his belly. Then I pulled his feet back until his back was arched painfully, his feet almost to his head. I sat on his head and bit into his toes. Smelly toes. Stinky toe jam. Tasty! Main thing was just keeping him in the extremely painful position. But had to be careful. Didn’t want to fuck up his spinal cord. Not yet anyway. So I just held him there, pressing his spine, easing up, pressing some more, thoroughly savoring his pain. Finally, I let go and his legs and feet flopped back onto the mat.

He was face down, breathing heavily. The arm was out to one side. I took his wrist and lifted. He screamed. I moved the arm around and saw it was only partially dislocated. Well, that sucks. I began to move it in a big circle and then up toward his head. Felt some resistance. I twisted it violently, in all directions, around and around, hearing it grind and finally crack, until the joint was totally separated. Gregory’s arm was now held only by skin and some loose ligaments. And he had passed out from pain.

I rolled him onto his back. The arm just flopped loosely. He looked pretty hot there, his gorgeous white skin glistening with sweat. His other arm lay beside him, his fingers curled almost into a fist. I stepped on his hand, and then stomped my boot down on it. Three, four times, until every bone was shattered. Well, that was fucking fun! I turned to his left foot and began to stomp on it. This was going to take a lot more time, so I stopped and got a steel bar and smashed the ankle and instep, over and over, until all the bones in his foot and ankle were pulpy and broken. His foot was a mess, but so fucking beautiful.

Above him, as he lay there, was a pulley. I tied a cord tightly around his nut sac and attached it to the pulley. Then I raised him slowly into the air. By his nuts! Gregory was still unconscious and totally limp. When he was about as high as my belly, I stopped. Christ! He was sexy! So fucking hot! His sac stretched but his nuts were firmly tied off by the cord. His dick had softened, so I gave him a shot of liquid Viagra, and watched as his rod slowly grew until it stood tall, pointing to the ceiling. Ahhhh! Long and thin, it was magnificent. I took it in my mouth. It almost made me gag, it was so long, but I managed to slide it all the way into my throat and keep it there. I began to chew. My teeth ripped and scraped his cockskin, grinding away, tenderizing his meat. And when I pulled my head back, Gregory’s cock was bloodied and torn, but still rock hard and pointing to Heaven.

As he hung by his nuts, I flopped his arm around. It looked so cool dropping loosely whenever I let it go. I also took his broken hand in mine and moved the fingers in all directions, in directions they shouldn’t be moving. Then I knelt by his smashed up foot. Took it in my hands, feeling the pulverized bones under his skin. I ran my tongue between his toes, lapping at his toe jam, and biting, grinding my teeth between the broken joints. I wanted to bite them off but decided to wait.

I was tired. Went to get a beer. Pulled up a chair and sat, admiring Gregory, the mighty wrestler. In time, he began to come back. His eyes opened. He looked at me, uncomprehending. Then his brain kicked in and he began to struggle. But all he accomplished was to wiggle and squirm and swing in the air. “Hey, Gregory. You’re a hell of a wrestler. Really hot! But this hold I have you in now is kind of tough to get out of, isn’t it?” I got up and flopped his arm. “Arghhhhhhh!” “Hurts a bit, huh? Don’t like it? O.K. Let’s do some other fun stuff.”

I went over and picked up the steel bar. Ran the end down his chest and belly. He looked terrified. As well he might. Because I swung the rod down on to his kneecap. Smashed it to smithereens. He shrieked. I rubbed his knee, massaging the crushed bones under his skin. Gregory howled. “Cool!” Then I loosened the pulley and dropped him to the floor.

Poor Gregory. Shoulder totally dislocated. Hand crushed. Instep shattered. Kneecap pulverized. His pain was so great he could hardly move, hardly cry out, but he didn’t pass out. I put my boot on his nose and pressed and heard the crack and watched blood flow from his nose and knelt and sucked the blood from his nostrils. There was a lot to drink in.

I brought out a sword. An antique. Long and sharp. As Gregory lay on his back, immobile and suffering, I put the tip of the sword to his shit hole. And pushed. Very slowly, the sword slid into his hole. Perforating his colon. A high pitched squeal escaped his lips. I changed the angle as I pushed, and the sword slid up into his gut, and then it popped out of his belly.

I kept pushing the sword. The bloody point was a full foot out of his belly. Grabbed his hair with my left hand and pulled his head forward. His eyes were glassy and his mouth hanging open. Was any of this registering in his brain? I kept pushing with the other hand until the sword point was near his face. And then into his mouth. Pushing, very very slowly now, wanting to enjoy every second of the spectacle. The sword point touched the back of Gregory’s mouth, and ran through the soft tissue up into his brain. When it reached the back of the skull, I stopped. I can’t find the right words to describe the rasping guttural groan that emanated from the dude at that point. I just stopped and soaked it all in. God! How fucking hot was that! A sword, from ass hole to belly to brain! Gregory’s body was trembling, quivering, in great pain. Yet, alive and conscious. He was feeling the incredible pain of a sword in his brain!

I stared into his eyes, enchanted by the unspeakable agony in them. I dropped down and lay beside him, rubbing my hand over his smooth chest. Then to his still rigid cock. But when I touched the tip, it exploded, shooting a massive eruption of reddish white cream into the air. It came down in a splat on his smooth belly. I leaned over and slurped up the warm puddle of bloody jizz from his belly. Oh, Christ! Fuck this! I grabbed my own cock and jerked off, blowing load after load onto Gregory’s quivering body.

As luck would have it, the poor fucker suffered for over an hour before he died. And I came several times more. It was incredible! Pure ecstasy to watch this gorgeous sexy hunk suffer and succumb. As he would say, Gregory was squashed. Destroyed. Still gorgeous in death and even sexier with that sword through his asshole, his belly, his throat, and his brain.
 
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