Larr and Ben grinned as they stared expectantly into each other’s eyes. They were kneeling and naked and caressing. The moment they had planned for so long was upon them and their sexual ecstasy would soon begin. A small red drop splattered on Bens’ shoulder. Larr looked up just as another fell onto his cheek. A boy hung above them, unconscious and naked. Blood dripped slowly from the point where a sword had been thrust into his belly.

Ben was impatient. “Let’s do it, Larr. Whack the fucker.” “O.K. buddy.” Larr reached up and pulled the sword from the boy’s torso. It was a genuine Civil War officer’s saber he had bought and used in war reenactments. Now, for the first time in over 150 years, the sword was being used for its intended purpose, to maim and kill. Larr had become quite proficient with his weapon and had been praised by his fellow reenactors for his realistic swordplay.

Larr expertly swung the saber six times, opening gashes in the boy’s body. Arms, thighs, crotch, face, chest. In seconds, the boy was hideously disfigured. Blood spurted from his wounds. Larr rammed the sword back into the belly, pushing upward, until the point exited between the boy’s shoulder blades. Then he dropped to the floor, dragging Ben with him. As hot blood poured down on their naked bodies, they rolled on the leather sheet and experienced the most erotic sex of their lives.

In time, the boy died and his blood no longer dripped on the frenzied lovers, but they continued to writhe passionately in the crimson pool. Exhaustion eventually set in. They cuddled. Larr licked at Bens’ body. Ben sucked on Larr’s bloody beard. “He bled out kinda fast.” “Yeah, we’ll use two next time. More soup.” Finally, after hours of ecstasy, they slept, entwined, stuck to each other by coagulation, dreaming of the boy and his blood. Their cocks stayed hard all night.