- Joined
- Jan 13, 2012
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- Cannibal Heaven
I arrived at the cabin about noon. Been up in the high hills for a few days, just relaxing, camping, getting away. Not that I couldn’t do the same right here. My cabin is in the Sierras, totally isolated, miles from any neighbors or road. In fact, you gotta drive six miles on a rough dirt road to get in here. So rough, it’s impassable in the rain or snow. There’s a creek down below, about a hundred yards from my cabin. Great for fishing. Anyway, I need the isolation these days just to keep my mind clear, to suppress the cravings.
As I sat on the porch, I glanced down towards the creek. Whoa! Something didn’t look right, so I got my binoculars. Through the trees, I could see a man lying on the big rock next to the creek. He was naked. Not moving. Maybe sunbathing. Cute, from what I could see. And his cock! Wow! Never seen anything like it. Long, tubular, uncut. So hot! I could feel my dick growing inside my jeans. Fuck. I don’t need this. That’s why I’m here. To get away from men like him. I went inside and started to read. Get my mind off the naked dude.
I have an addiction and I came up to the hills to get away from temptation, to stop acting on my cravings. Thought if I was alone up here, I could break the habit, wean myself, become normal again. You see, I’m addicted to men. Attractive men. I collect them. Kill them. Eat them. I shouldn’t, but I do. Can’t stop myself. So, I came up to the cabin. No men within miles, so no temptation. I’ve been clean for five months. Now this. A new temptation. My groin is churning, tingling, hard. Got the binocs again. Christ! He’s so hot. Lean and smooth. Early twenties perhaps. Cute. Curly headed. So tasty. And that dick. Fuck! There goes my will power. I got the itch again. My tongue slides across over my lips, savoring, anticipating.
I went inside and changed into my shorts. Tight shorts that accentuated my bubble butt, and my large dick. Heavy steel-toe construction boots with thick wool socks. A light, flannel muscle vest that highlighted my pecs and biceps. Baseball cap. Shades. A quick look in the mirror. Yeah. The Man in the Mirror. Hot!
I walked down to the creek. He had rolled over and was on his belly, his round butt soaking up the rays. Heard me coming and lifted himself up on one elbow, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Hey. Don’t let me disturb you. I live up the hill.”
“I’ll leave if you want. I’ve been hiking and just wanted to rest a bit. So nice to lie next to the creek and listen to the water.”
“No problem. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’m Jeremy.”
“Call me Caleb. Where you from? You sound French.”
“Swiss, actually. We speak French. I’ve been in the States for three months, mostly hiking across the West. It’s lovely country. So different from Europe.”
“Traveling alone?”
“Oui. I mean, yes. Just me and nature. Got a couple more months before I have to go back.”
“Nice.”
I was stroking my crotch as we talked and the tight shorts left no doubt as to where my mind was. I slid my vest off and squatted next to him. Ran my hand over his smooth round butt.
“Nice,” I repeated.
He smiled and rolled onto his back, resting on both elbows. His dick sprang up, long and lean, quivering with anticipation in the fresh air. I leaned down and covered it with my mouth. It slid deep into my throat. I glanced up to see his head back, and mouth open, as he beathed deeply. His eyes met mine.
“Nice dick, too. I mean, really nice. Totally impressive. To die for. I want it. I want your dick inside me. Literally.”
“Take off your shorts.”
I let his dick go and stood up. As my shorts slid to my ankles,, my cock popped out and stood straight up at attention. Naked now, except for the boots. He stood and motioned toward the rock.
“Lie down. You want my dick inside you? You seem to like it in your mouth, so let’s see how you like it in your ass.”
As soon as I was on my back, he threw my legs in the air, spit in his hand, rubbed his dick, and rammed it up my ass. Ouch! A little rough but I couldn’t begrudge him a final moment of pleasure before he entered my Hell.
He pumped hard, slamming my hole, a ramrod drilling deep. Grinning. Pounding. Grunting. His eyes widened in anticipation. Didn’t see my hand reach out to grab the rock. He was getting there. Almost. Then a roar of ecstasy and his cum shot deep into my ass. At that moment of euphoria, when his sexual passion peaked, I swung the rock into the side of his head. A loud crack. A grunt. Eyes widened as he fell back onto the rock. As blood ran from the wound, he staggered to his feet. “Merde! Putain!” He started toward me. I smashed my fist into his belly. He doubled up in pain and as his head leaned downwad, I drove my boot into his face. He fell hard, a faceplant on the rock. He was out.
I rolled him over. There was a gash on the side of his head. His mouth was bloody and he’d lost some teeth. Kneeling, I licked `his face. Ahhh. The taste of blood! Again. After all these months. Then my eyes focused on his dick. Still hard, dripping cum. I took his dick in my mouth, sucking his cream, tasting my butthole. My teeth ground into the shaft, chewing. It was mine now. Mine to eat. His dick would be inside me soon. Literally. Inside my belly. I stood, and drove my steel-toe into his ribs. Oh! My! God! To kick a naked man again. So liberating. I was back!
I picked Jeremy up and slung him over my shoulder. A naked man in boots carrying his naked unconscious prey. Like primitive man. A wounded head bleeding down onto my bare butt. Ah, the Great Outdoors! Up the hill, into my cabin, and down into the concrete bunker. I let him drop to the floor as I assessed my plan.
Before me was a large wooden cross. Shaped more like a Tee actually. About four feet from the floor was a large wooden phallus, over three inches diameter and a foot long, protruding from the vertical beam at an angle. It looked nasty; stained dark with dried blood and shit. I got some motor oil and lubed Jeremy’s butthole. Then I picked him up, lifted him high, and let him slide down onto the phallus. His hole resisted but with his weight, the lube, and my pushing, it slowly engulfed the huge wooden dildo. I held him in up with one hand while the other tied a rope around his chest and loosely to the post. Needed him to stay in position while I draped his arms over and around the horizontal beam. Then tied his wrists to the beam. I removed the rope from his chest and stood back to admire my new friend.
Jeremy hung from his cross. It appeared all his weight hung from his arms on the cross-piece, but that was an illusion. His full weight was actually on the phallus. It was fatter than any cock he had ever had up his ass, already ripping his hole and bleeding. The phallus was also longer than any cock he’d experienced. So long that it poked painfully up into his gut, ripping at the soft tissue that was his colon. Jeremy’s head hung limply back, over the cross beam, exposing a luscious Adam’s apple. He was still unconscious.
I ran my hands over his smooth skin. Feeling taut muscles. My tongue lapped at his nips, anticipating the snack that always comes when I make a new friend. I licked at his belly button, digging out his lint. His feet hung just off the floor as I explored his toes and soles. Stinky. Dirty. The whole of Jeremy felt so good, and would surely taste the same.
I was fascinated by his cock. Long and lean, uncut. Don’t know why I was so beguiled by it. I’ve had fatter and longer, and I usually prefer a circumcised dick. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. Or my hands. Or my mouth. Perhaps it was the whole package. Jeremy was so cute. Had a captivating smile. Brown, curly hair. Slender body with smooth skin wrapping lean muscles. Luscious tits. Inviting round butt. Winning personality, from what I could tell during our brief conversation. Yeah. A great package. But there was that cock. So enchanting.
I got a razor and shaved Jeremy’s crotch. In seconds it was absolutely smooth, my tongue detecting no stubble. I licked his shiny balls, took them in my mouth, sucking. I slid back his foreskin and wrapped my mouth around the knob. Clean. He kept it clean. Good Boy. Then I let his soft cock slide into my throat, as deep as it would go. I swallowed. Oh, how I wanted to be swallowing his thick cum. To have his hard dick shooting a massive load of Swiss Cream down my throat. An hour earlier, he had filled my ass. But I wanted---needed---his cum in my mouth, from this exceptional cock. Frustrated that it could never happen, I bit hard into his shaft. Deep. Skin ripped. Blood seeped into my mouth. I pulled off. Drops of blood ran down his dick and dribbled off his foreskin. I stared at it. I wanted it and it would be mine. I looked up at the form hanging above me. It would all be mine. The taste of his blood was in my mouth. I had broken my fast. Jeremy would be my feast.
I returned to the creek, gathered up all his clothes and belongings, and brought them back to the cabin. Not much there. Wallet, keys, cell, passport all of which I dropped into the incinerator. Not many clothes, although I found some well-worn, filthy, unwashed skivvies and socks, which I set aside. The rest went into the incinerator, along with his backpack. I shoved my nose into the dirty clothes and inhaled deeply. Ahhhh. So fetid and foul. So wonderfully reeking of his feet and ass. Strong masculine odors. I will spend many nights sleeping with these socks and shorts, inhaling and licking and loving his fetid scent.
Jeremy was still out of it so I left him hanging there while I went to have lunch and rest a bit. But before leaving I turned on the big screen TV that hung on the wall opposite him. Turned on a video called “Fag #5” and let it run in a loop. It is a snuff film of a hot guy named Cody who gets kidnapped and then tortured horribly and eventually killed. The fifth in a series, hence the #5, but by far the best snuff film I’ve ever seen. It’s attained cult status among those of us who collect gay snuff films. I want Jeremy to see it and be aware from the start that this isn’t a game. Cody’s fate will be his fate. Torture. Hideous pain. Death. No way out. Hopeless.
About an hour later, as I ate lunch, I heard a loud piercing shriek. Then more. They lasted a couple of minutes before evolving into a series of wretched desolate howls, that eventually became long forlorn moans of despair. Jeremy was awake and aware. Good.
“Hello, Jeremy. That’s Cody on the screen but it’s also you.” He didn’t hear me because he was shouting at me, screaming really, incoherent. I don’t understand French and that’s all that came out of his mouth. I ignored him, picked up a baseball bat, and whacked him in the ribs. Hear a crack. Good. Immediate pain. A broken rib. It’ll hurt to scream loudly. He’ll have to content himself with whimpers and gasps. Except, of course, when I do want to hear a real screech of pain.
I stood in front of him. Hanging from the cross, his feet were about an inch off the floor, so his face was just a little higher than mine. I wrapped my arms around his naked body and squeezed, pressing on his broken rib. “Jeremy. Jeremy. You are so sexy. So beautiful. I’m gonna kill you. You know that, of course, but first we’ll have so much fun. Like with Cody up there.” I squeezed his broken rib again. “Do you like pain? No? WelI, I do. And I’m gonna give you more than you could possibly imagine.” I leaned toward the mouth I had bloodied with my boot and grabbed his lower lip between my teeth. I bit hard, ripping and tearing, tasting blood, feeling his body tense against mine, a squeal from his mouth, looking into eyes wide with pain, tightening my bite as my teeth pulled at his lip, until a piece of it ripped off. He screamed, spewing blood onto my face from a large gash in his lip. And I sucked on the chunk of flesh in my mouth. Our eyes met. Abject fear in his. Pure ecstasy in mine. He knew. I knew. I would eat more of his flesh.
Tears ran down his cheeks as I watched me sucking on the piece of his lip. Blood ran down his chin from his mouth, dripping onto his heaving chest and belly. He sobbed. The fucker was terrified. Who was this wicked man he had fucked by the creek just hours ago? Why was this happening to him? All of my victims hit this point of disbelief when they realize Caleb is going to kill them. And I always enjoy watching their reactions. “No! No! No! I didn’t want this! It can’t be happening!” They see me smiling and realize, yes, it is happening. That’s when the tears come.
I picked up a long, thin bamboo rod. Whack! Across the belly. Again. Again. The nipples. The pecs. Smack across his face, splattering blood from his lips. I calmly and slowly whack at his nakedness. Red welts rise. Horizontal red welts. Covering his torso. His face. His neck. Then down his legs. Welted thighs. Even his dick, although I will spare it the rod, reserving that treasure for my mouth. Whack! Whack! Whack! His white skin becomes a mass of red now. Can’t distinguish individual marks, just total swollen redness. I stop.
I wrap him in my arms, our naked bodies tight, absorbing each other’s warmth. I can feel his suffering as his body shivers and trembles. He can feel my euphoria as my rigid cock presses against his soft bleeding member. I put my cheek against his belly. It heaves as he breathes heavily, panting in pain, my face feeling the fire of his skin. So warm. No---hot! But still smooth. Blood boiling beneath his silky skin, wanting, waiting, to break through his epidermis, and flow freely. So nice. Warm and comforting.
My face slides lower. His dick touches my cheek. I turn my head and bite. A screech! I reach for the scissors. Slowly, delicately, I cut at his ballsac, peeling it back, freeing his nuts, letting them hang free and unrestricted. I take one into my mouth. Sucking softly and gently, like a baby with a teething ring. Holding the dick aside, I stare at the naked orbs. They want me, my mouth. Not now, though. Later. I take his cock into my mouth again, as I have done with so many men. But with this man, with Jeremy, I settle in and chew quietly, steadily, tasting his blood, bits of skin between my teeth. I hardly notice the lurching of the body, or the blood dripping onto my head from his mouth. I am only aware of the long soft tube in my mouth as I suck and chew. It will never cum in my mouth. But it will disappear in my mouth. As I chew, I drool, blood and saliva dribbling down my chin. I’m a messy eater. When I finally pull back, the dick is a mangled mess of blood and ripped flesh. Then something strange happens. He peed. Yes. Piss began to flow out of the mangled penis. How? Why? Who knows? But I quickly wrapped his dick in my mouth and drank as his bladder emptied. It went on , and on. So much piss. And I swallowed every drop. So much blood mixed in. I could taste that. Not as good as his cum would have been but a welcome bonus for sure. Finally, it stopped and I slumped to the floor, exhausted. I fell asleep as drops of blood and wayward dribbles of piss fell from Jeremy onto my body.
I stood and reached up, releasing his arms from the cross beam. His body leans forward as I slowly guide it downward. The body bends at the waist, his head and arms hanging loosely toward the floor. His body is held in place only by the phallus in his ass. He cannot escape the impalement. His arms move as he tries to right himself. His head rises in an attempt to get his bearings. From his mouth, a despairing moan as his body slumps. I pick up the bamboo rod again and bring it down on his back, which quickly becomes a mass of red welts. I whack at his head—top, back, sides. Then his arms, hanging helplessly, flailing weakly.
I leave to get lunch. A ham sandwich and a beer. Returning, I sit against the beam, between his legs. In his new position, Jeremy’s head hangs in front of my face. His eyes are open, glazed but open, watching as I eat my sandwich. It has small cuts from the bamboo rod, and I watch as small amounts of blood drip out of his hair. I hold the sandwich out to catch some of it. Can’t distinguish a taste as I eat the sandwich, but my dick is hard from the erotic situation. This is new to me. To Jeremy, too, I’d wager. I finish the sandwich, and the beer, and lean back against the post. The quiet in the room is broken only by Jeremy’s labored, heavy breathing. I gently stroke his face. Puffy from the rod. I twist the cut lip, reopening the wound. Blood resumes its trickle, this time running into his nose and eyes (blink, blink) and into his hair before dripping onto my boots. I slap at his ears. Hard. Can I bust an eardrum? I’m tempted to poke my fingers in his eyes, but hold back. I don’t care if I fuck up his hearing but I want him to continue to see what I do to him. So, I keep playing with his ears. Pulling on them. Slapping them. Finally, reaching for a knife, I cut one off. Into my mouth as a chew toy. Blood spurts from the wound in rhythm to his heartbeat. I put my mouth to the ear hole to feel and taste the fine jet squirting into my throat.
Finally, I get up again and resumed thrashing at his back with the rod. Red welts eventually opened and began to seep blood. Did the same with his head until I saw blood trickling from his hair. Tied a rope to one wrist, tossed it over the cross beam, and pulled until he was vertical again. I licked his warm belly, sucked his bloody dick, and punched him in the gut. The wind blew out of his lungs, spraying me with the blood in his mouth. Sweeeet. Then I began again to whack at his torso. Unrelenting. Bursting welts. Splattering me red. He screamed until I went back to his face. Strangely, no sounds as the rod did its work. His face became a swollen, bloody mess. No longer pretty, but now gorgeous and sensual in its desecration.
My arm got weary swinging the rod, so I stopped and sat on the floor at his feet. I laid back. Warm blood dripped from Jeremy. We were both worn out. We each needed a break. So, I got up, untied his wrist, and let his body drop onto my shoulder. He was slippery from his blood but I managed to lift him off the phallus and drop him to the floor. He moaned loudly as he landed in a heap. I straightened him out, on his belly, and lay beside him. My hands caressed his battered head and back. I sucked blood from his hair. Rubbed his smooth butt, unmarked because he had been on the phallus. My hand slid to his butthole and entered the newly enlarged cavity. It was stretched wide. Skin ripped and bloody. I went deeper and deeper, caressing the soft and torn folds of his colon. It was warm and inviting, pulling me in. I fantasized my head inside, licking, nibbling, tasting. I pulled my arm out and licked my hand clean. Then contented myself with lapping at the opening of this alluring sexual cavern.
I laid on the floor and pulled Jeremy close. He was still alive, but his breathing was heavy and labored. Deep gasping. I lay on top of him. His eyes were open and showed recognition when he saw my face. His stare wasn’t vacant as I expected. It was as if he knew exactly who I was and what was happening and he was cursing me. Which made me happy. He was still aware…of me, of his pain, of his fate. My joy in killing is greatest when my victim can feel and endure.
I looked down into his eyes and smiled. Slowly, I opened my mouth and brought it down over his nose. I sucked blood and snot---a tasty combo---and then bit down hard, grinding my teeth, tearing at flesh, until, finally, his nose ripped from his face. Through tears of pain, he continued to stare into my eyes as I chewed and smiled. He would not give me the satisfaction of screaming. He had balls.
Yes, he did. He still had balls. Most of his body was torn and covered with blood. My mouth had been wild with ecstasy, advancing from head to toe, licking, sucking, nibbling, biting, chewing, devouring. His dick was a mangled mush, half eaten. But his unwrapped balls remained pristine. Not for long. I took them into my mouth, one by one, sucking and savoring. My fingers played with them. My tongue flicked them. Until…. Until I took one between my teeth and slowly, very slowly, began the crush. I felt his body tense. Heard a high-pitched squeal. Then a quivering and heaving of his entire body. All as my teeth clamped slowly tighter. Then, when my teeth broke through and crushed the nut flat, squirting out some salty liquid, he let out the most agonizing scream I’d ever heard. As his body lurched in pain, I took the second nut between my teeth and crushed it quickly but no less painfully. Although he was unbound on the floor, he no longer had any strength to escape the hideous pain. His arms and legs thrashed about feebly but his body remained lying on the blood-soaked floor as my teeth relentlessly chewed at his crotch, moving from nut to nut to dick. I was now maniacally oblivious to everything but my meal of human flesh. My face between his thighs, in an uncontrollable savage feeding frenzy. I don’t know how long the passion lasted. I just remember that at some point I was laying between his thighs, panting, exhausted, my face in a pool of thick, coagulating blood. When I lifted my head and looked, there was nothing in Jeremy’s crotch but a mass of bloody, yellowish mush. I had consumed everything, cleaned my plate. I lay my head back down, between Jeremy’s quivering thighs, my cheek in the congealing muck, and slept.
I awoke. Peeled my face from the thickened glop. Strands of congealed blood hung from my ear, cheek and lips. Cold now. No longer warm. Jeremy was dead. But he still was sexy, totally covered with his blood, and appetizing. I belched. My dick grew hard as I remembered what was in my belly. I climbed onto his body and began to claw at the broken skin. My teeth pulled at loose pieces, stripping them away, chewing and swallowing, stimulating my passion, reigniting my frenzy, and I devolved again into a crazed and fevered cannibal. With a small knife, I cut off pieces of his flesh and chewed voraciously. His dick was inside me but, like Oliver Twist, I wanted more. I gouged out his eyes and squished them between my teeth. Shoved my knife into his cavernous colon and cut at his guts, pulling some out through his hole. Then opened his belly and yanked out more guts and stuffed them into my mouth. Pieces of butt meat. I was a savage and continued to ravage the corpse until I was bloated. Then I puked his guts out and passed out.
Sorry, guys. This story rambled on too long. I usually edit them down, leaving out some of the shit I do to my victims. Being concise is a virtue. How many times do I have to describe chewing up a tit or biting a dick? I may do it several times during the session but need only to describe it once to make it sensuous. More can be tedious. Oh well, it’s done. Jeremy got into my brain more than any other guy I’ve killed. For the first time, I lost control and yielded to extreme animalistic instincts. Now I wonder. Was this a one-time thing? Or will it happen again? Will there be more Jeremys? Or was he unique. I’ve always taken pride in my self-control during my torture sessions. Will it return when I kill the next time? Yeah, there will be a next time for sure. The cravings won’t go away. As I shovel the mess that was Jeremy into a hole out back, my cock is twitching, my heart is pounding, and my mind is lusting. I’ll find another. Soon. Will I be Cool Caleb again? Or this new lunatic on the brink of an abyss? Time will tell. I’ll let you know.
Meantime, if you’re a horny hot young thing, smooth and built, look me up and introduce yourself. Call me Caleb and I’ll give you the time of your life.
As I sat on the porch, I glanced down towards the creek. Whoa! Something didn’t look right, so I got my binoculars. Through the trees, I could see a man lying on the big rock next to the creek. He was naked. Not moving. Maybe sunbathing. Cute, from what I could see. And his cock! Wow! Never seen anything like it. Long, tubular, uncut. So hot! I could feel my dick growing inside my jeans. Fuck. I don’t need this. That’s why I’m here. To get away from men like him. I went inside and started to read. Get my mind off the naked dude.
I have an addiction and I came up to the hills to get away from temptation, to stop acting on my cravings. Thought if I was alone up here, I could break the habit, wean myself, become normal again. You see, I’m addicted to men. Attractive men. I collect them. Kill them. Eat them. I shouldn’t, but I do. Can’t stop myself. So, I came up to the cabin. No men within miles, so no temptation. I’ve been clean for five months. Now this. A new temptation. My groin is churning, tingling, hard. Got the binocs again. Christ! He’s so hot. Lean and smooth. Early twenties perhaps. Cute. Curly headed. So tasty. And that dick. Fuck! There goes my will power. I got the itch again. My tongue slides across over my lips, savoring, anticipating.
I went inside and changed into my shorts. Tight shorts that accentuated my bubble butt, and my large dick. Heavy steel-toe construction boots with thick wool socks. A light, flannel muscle vest that highlighted my pecs and biceps. Baseball cap. Shades. A quick look in the mirror. Yeah. The Man in the Mirror. Hot!
I walked down to the creek. He had rolled over and was on his belly, his round butt soaking up the rays. Heard me coming and lifted himself up on one elbow, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Hey. Don’t let me disturb you. I live up the hill.”
“I’ll leave if you want. I’ve been hiking and just wanted to rest a bit. So nice to lie next to the creek and listen to the water.”
“No problem. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’m Jeremy.”
“Call me Caleb. Where you from? You sound French.”
“Swiss, actually. We speak French. I’ve been in the States for three months, mostly hiking across the West. It’s lovely country. So different from Europe.”
“Traveling alone?”
“Oui. I mean, yes. Just me and nature. Got a couple more months before I have to go back.”
“Nice.”
I was stroking my crotch as we talked and the tight shorts left no doubt as to where my mind was. I slid my vest off and squatted next to him. Ran my hand over his smooth round butt.
“Nice,” I repeated.
He smiled and rolled onto his back, resting on both elbows. His dick sprang up, long and lean, quivering with anticipation in the fresh air. I leaned down and covered it with my mouth. It slid deep into my throat. I glanced up to see his head back, and mouth open, as he beathed deeply. His eyes met mine.
“Nice dick, too. I mean, really nice. Totally impressive. To die for. I want it. I want your dick inside me. Literally.”
“Take off your shorts.”
I let his dick go and stood up. As my shorts slid to my ankles,, my cock popped out and stood straight up at attention. Naked now, except for the boots. He stood and motioned toward the rock.
“Lie down. You want my dick inside you? You seem to like it in your mouth, so let’s see how you like it in your ass.”
As soon as I was on my back, he threw my legs in the air, spit in his hand, rubbed his dick, and rammed it up my ass. Ouch! A little rough but I couldn’t begrudge him a final moment of pleasure before he entered my Hell.
He pumped hard, slamming my hole, a ramrod drilling deep. Grinning. Pounding. Grunting. His eyes widened in anticipation. Didn’t see my hand reach out to grab the rock. He was getting there. Almost. Then a roar of ecstasy and his cum shot deep into my ass. At that moment of euphoria, when his sexual passion peaked, I swung the rock into the side of his head. A loud crack. A grunt. Eyes widened as he fell back onto the rock. As blood ran from the wound, he staggered to his feet. “Merde! Putain!” He started toward me. I smashed my fist into his belly. He doubled up in pain and as his head leaned downwad, I drove my boot into his face. He fell hard, a faceplant on the rock. He was out.
I rolled him over. There was a gash on the side of his head. His mouth was bloody and he’d lost some teeth. Kneeling, I licked `his face. Ahhh. The taste of blood! Again. After all these months. Then my eyes focused on his dick. Still hard, dripping cum. I took his dick in my mouth, sucking his cream, tasting my butthole. My teeth ground into the shaft, chewing. It was mine now. Mine to eat. His dick would be inside me soon. Literally. Inside my belly. I stood, and drove my steel-toe into his ribs. Oh! My! God! To kick a naked man again. So liberating. I was back!
I picked Jeremy up and slung him over my shoulder. A naked man in boots carrying his naked unconscious prey. Like primitive man. A wounded head bleeding down onto my bare butt. Ah, the Great Outdoors! Up the hill, into my cabin, and down into the concrete bunker. I let him drop to the floor as I assessed my plan.
Before me was a large wooden cross. Shaped more like a Tee actually. About four feet from the floor was a large wooden phallus, over three inches diameter and a foot long, protruding from the vertical beam at an angle. It looked nasty; stained dark with dried blood and shit. I got some motor oil and lubed Jeremy’s butthole. Then I picked him up, lifted him high, and let him slide down onto the phallus. His hole resisted but with his weight, the lube, and my pushing, it slowly engulfed the huge wooden dildo. I held him in up with one hand while the other tied a rope around his chest and loosely to the post. Needed him to stay in position while I draped his arms over and around the horizontal beam. Then tied his wrists to the beam. I removed the rope from his chest and stood back to admire my new friend.
Jeremy hung from his cross. It appeared all his weight hung from his arms on the cross-piece, but that was an illusion. His full weight was actually on the phallus. It was fatter than any cock he had ever had up his ass, already ripping his hole and bleeding. The phallus was also longer than any cock he’d experienced. So long that it poked painfully up into his gut, ripping at the soft tissue that was his colon. Jeremy’s head hung limply back, over the cross beam, exposing a luscious Adam’s apple. He was still unconscious.
I ran my hands over his smooth skin. Feeling taut muscles. My tongue lapped at his nips, anticipating the snack that always comes when I make a new friend. I licked at his belly button, digging out his lint. His feet hung just off the floor as I explored his toes and soles. Stinky. Dirty. The whole of Jeremy felt so good, and would surely taste the same.
I was fascinated by his cock. Long and lean, uncut. Don’t know why I was so beguiled by it. I’ve had fatter and longer, and I usually prefer a circumcised dick. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. Or my hands. Or my mouth. Perhaps it was the whole package. Jeremy was so cute. Had a captivating smile. Brown, curly hair. Slender body with smooth skin wrapping lean muscles. Luscious tits. Inviting round butt. Winning personality, from what I could tell during our brief conversation. Yeah. A great package. But there was that cock. So enchanting.
I got a razor and shaved Jeremy’s crotch. In seconds it was absolutely smooth, my tongue detecting no stubble. I licked his shiny balls, took them in my mouth, sucking. I slid back his foreskin and wrapped my mouth around the knob. Clean. He kept it clean. Good Boy. Then I let his soft cock slide into my throat, as deep as it would go. I swallowed. Oh, how I wanted to be swallowing his thick cum. To have his hard dick shooting a massive load of Swiss Cream down my throat. An hour earlier, he had filled my ass. But I wanted---needed---his cum in my mouth, from this exceptional cock. Frustrated that it could never happen, I bit hard into his shaft. Deep. Skin ripped. Blood seeped into my mouth. I pulled off. Drops of blood ran down his dick and dribbled off his foreskin. I stared at it. I wanted it and it would be mine. I looked up at the form hanging above me. It would all be mine. The taste of his blood was in my mouth. I had broken my fast. Jeremy would be my feast.
I returned to the creek, gathered up all his clothes and belongings, and brought them back to the cabin. Not much there. Wallet, keys, cell, passport all of which I dropped into the incinerator. Not many clothes, although I found some well-worn, filthy, unwashed skivvies and socks, which I set aside. The rest went into the incinerator, along with his backpack. I shoved my nose into the dirty clothes and inhaled deeply. Ahhhh. So fetid and foul. So wonderfully reeking of his feet and ass. Strong masculine odors. I will spend many nights sleeping with these socks and shorts, inhaling and licking and loving his fetid scent.
Jeremy was still out of it so I left him hanging there while I went to have lunch and rest a bit. But before leaving I turned on the big screen TV that hung on the wall opposite him. Turned on a video called “Fag #5” and let it run in a loop. It is a snuff film of a hot guy named Cody who gets kidnapped and then tortured horribly and eventually killed. The fifth in a series, hence the #5, but by far the best snuff film I’ve ever seen. It’s attained cult status among those of us who collect gay snuff films. I want Jeremy to see it and be aware from the start that this isn’t a game. Cody’s fate will be his fate. Torture. Hideous pain. Death. No way out. Hopeless.
About an hour later, as I ate lunch, I heard a loud piercing shriek. Then more. They lasted a couple of minutes before evolving into a series of wretched desolate howls, that eventually became long forlorn moans of despair. Jeremy was awake and aware. Good.
“Hello, Jeremy. That’s Cody on the screen but it’s also you.” He didn’t hear me because he was shouting at me, screaming really, incoherent. I don’t understand French and that’s all that came out of his mouth. I ignored him, picked up a baseball bat, and whacked him in the ribs. Hear a crack. Good. Immediate pain. A broken rib. It’ll hurt to scream loudly. He’ll have to content himself with whimpers and gasps. Except, of course, when I do want to hear a real screech of pain.
I stood in front of him. Hanging from the cross, his feet were about an inch off the floor, so his face was just a little higher than mine. I wrapped my arms around his naked body and squeezed, pressing on his broken rib. “Jeremy. Jeremy. You are so sexy. So beautiful. I’m gonna kill you. You know that, of course, but first we’ll have so much fun. Like with Cody up there.” I squeezed his broken rib again. “Do you like pain? No? WelI, I do. And I’m gonna give you more than you could possibly imagine.” I leaned toward the mouth I had bloodied with my boot and grabbed his lower lip between my teeth. I bit hard, ripping and tearing, tasting blood, feeling his body tense against mine, a squeal from his mouth, looking into eyes wide with pain, tightening my bite as my teeth pulled at his lip, until a piece of it ripped off. He screamed, spewing blood onto my face from a large gash in his lip. And I sucked on the chunk of flesh in my mouth. Our eyes met. Abject fear in his. Pure ecstasy in mine. He knew. I knew. I would eat more of his flesh.
Tears ran down his cheeks as I watched me sucking on the piece of his lip. Blood ran down his chin from his mouth, dripping onto his heaving chest and belly. He sobbed. The fucker was terrified. Who was this wicked man he had fucked by the creek just hours ago? Why was this happening to him? All of my victims hit this point of disbelief when they realize Caleb is going to kill them. And I always enjoy watching their reactions. “No! No! No! I didn’t want this! It can’t be happening!” They see me smiling and realize, yes, it is happening. That’s when the tears come.
I picked up a long, thin bamboo rod. Whack! Across the belly. Again. Again. The nipples. The pecs. Smack across his face, splattering blood from his lips. I calmly and slowly whack at his nakedness. Red welts rise. Horizontal red welts. Covering his torso. His face. His neck. Then down his legs. Welted thighs. Even his dick, although I will spare it the rod, reserving that treasure for my mouth. Whack! Whack! Whack! His white skin becomes a mass of red now. Can’t distinguish individual marks, just total swollen redness. I stop.
I wrap him in my arms, our naked bodies tight, absorbing each other’s warmth. I can feel his suffering as his body shivers and trembles. He can feel my euphoria as my rigid cock presses against his soft bleeding member. I put my cheek against his belly. It heaves as he breathes heavily, panting in pain, my face feeling the fire of his skin. So warm. No---hot! But still smooth. Blood boiling beneath his silky skin, wanting, waiting, to break through his epidermis, and flow freely. So nice. Warm and comforting.
My face slides lower. His dick touches my cheek. I turn my head and bite. A screech! I reach for the scissors. Slowly, delicately, I cut at his ballsac, peeling it back, freeing his nuts, letting them hang free and unrestricted. I take one into my mouth. Sucking softly and gently, like a baby with a teething ring. Holding the dick aside, I stare at the naked orbs. They want me, my mouth. Not now, though. Later. I take his cock into my mouth again, as I have done with so many men. But with this man, with Jeremy, I settle in and chew quietly, steadily, tasting his blood, bits of skin between my teeth. I hardly notice the lurching of the body, or the blood dripping onto my head from his mouth. I am only aware of the long soft tube in my mouth as I suck and chew. It will never cum in my mouth. But it will disappear in my mouth. As I chew, I drool, blood and saliva dribbling down my chin. I’m a messy eater. When I finally pull back, the dick is a mangled mess of blood and ripped flesh. Then something strange happens. He peed. Yes. Piss began to flow out of the mangled penis. How? Why? Who knows? But I quickly wrapped his dick in my mouth and drank as his bladder emptied. It went on , and on. So much piss. And I swallowed every drop. So much blood mixed in. I could taste that. Not as good as his cum would have been but a welcome bonus for sure. Finally, it stopped and I slumped to the floor, exhausted. I fell asleep as drops of blood and wayward dribbles of piss fell from Jeremy onto my body.
I stood and reached up, releasing his arms from the cross beam. His body leans forward as I slowly guide it downward. The body bends at the waist, his head and arms hanging loosely toward the floor. His body is held in place only by the phallus in his ass. He cannot escape the impalement. His arms move as he tries to right himself. His head rises in an attempt to get his bearings. From his mouth, a despairing moan as his body slumps. I pick up the bamboo rod again and bring it down on his back, which quickly becomes a mass of red welts. I whack at his head—top, back, sides. Then his arms, hanging helplessly, flailing weakly.
I leave to get lunch. A ham sandwich and a beer. Returning, I sit against the beam, between his legs. In his new position, Jeremy’s head hangs in front of my face. His eyes are open, glazed but open, watching as I eat my sandwich. It has small cuts from the bamboo rod, and I watch as small amounts of blood drip out of his hair. I hold the sandwich out to catch some of it. Can’t distinguish a taste as I eat the sandwich, but my dick is hard from the erotic situation. This is new to me. To Jeremy, too, I’d wager. I finish the sandwich, and the beer, and lean back against the post. The quiet in the room is broken only by Jeremy’s labored, heavy breathing. I gently stroke his face. Puffy from the rod. I twist the cut lip, reopening the wound. Blood resumes its trickle, this time running into his nose and eyes (blink, blink) and into his hair before dripping onto my boots. I slap at his ears. Hard. Can I bust an eardrum? I’m tempted to poke my fingers in his eyes, but hold back. I don’t care if I fuck up his hearing but I want him to continue to see what I do to him. So, I keep playing with his ears. Pulling on them. Slapping them. Finally, reaching for a knife, I cut one off. Into my mouth as a chew toy. Blood spurts from the wound in rhythm to his heartbeat. I put my mouth to the ear hole to feel and taste the fine jet squirting into my throat.
Finally, I get up again and resumed thrashing at his back with the rod. Red welts eventually opened and began to seep blood. Did the same with his head until I saw blood trickling from his hair. Tied a rope to one wrist, tossed it over the cross beam, and pulled until he was vertical again. I licked his warm belly, sucked his bloody dick, and punched him in the gut. The wind blew out of his lungs, spraying me with the blood in his mouth. Sweeeet. Then I began again to whack at his torso. Unrelenting. Bursting welts. Splattering me red. He screamed until I went back to his face. Strangely, no sounds as the rod did its work. His face became a swollen, bloody mess. No longer pretty, but now gorgeous and sensual in its desecration.
My arm got weary swinging the rod, so I stopped and sat on the floor at his feet. I laid back. Warm blood dripped from Jeremy. We were both worn out. We each needed a break. So, I got up, untied his wrist, and let his body drop onto my shoulder. He was slippery from his blood but I managed to lift him off the phallus and drop him to the floor. He moaned loudly as he landed in a heap. I straightened him out, on his belly, and lay beside him. My hands caressed his battered head and back. I sucked blood from his hair. Rubbed his smooth butt, unmarked because he had been on the phallus. My hand slid to his butthole and entered the newly enlarged cavity. It was stretched wide. Skin ripped and bloody. I went deeper and deeper, caressing the soft and torn folds of his colon. It was warm and inviting, pulling me in. I fantasized my head inside, licking, nibbling, tasting. I pulled my arm out and licked my hand clean. Then contented myself with lapping at the opening of this alluring sexual cavern.
I laid on the floor and pulled Jeremy close. He was still alive, but his breathing was heavy and labored. Deep gasping. I lay on top of him. His eyes were open and showed recognition when he saw my face. His stare wasn’t vacant as I expected. It was as if he knew exactly who I was and what was happening and he was cursing me. Which made me happy. He was still aware…of me, of his pain, of his fate. My joy in killing is greatest when my victim can feel and endure.
I looked down into his eyes and smiled. Slowly, I opened my mouth and brought it down over his nose. I sucked blood and snot---a tasty combo---and then bit down hard, grinding my teeth, tearing at flesh, until, finally, his nose ripped from his face. Through tears of pain, he continued to stare into my eyes as I chewed and smiled. He would not give me the satisfaction of screaming. He had balls.
Yes, he did. He still had balls. Most of his body was torn and covered with blood. My mouth had been wild with ecstasy, advancing from head to toe, licking, sucking, nibbling, biting, chewing, devouring. His dick was a mangled mush, half eaten. But his unwrapped balls remained pristine. Not for long. I took them into my mouth, one by one, sucking and savoring. My fingers played with them. My tongue flicked them. Until…. Until I took one between my teeth and slowly, very slowly, began the crush. I felt his body tense. Heard a high-pitched squeal. Then a quivering and heaving of his entire body. All as my teeth clamped slowly tighter. Then, when my teeth broke through and crushed the nut flat, squirting out some salty liquid, he let out the most agonizing scream I’d ever heard. As his body lurched in pain, I took the second nut between my teeth and crushed it quickly but no less painfully. Although he was unbound on the floor, he no longer had any strength to escape the hideous pain. His arms and legs thrashed about feebly but his body remained lying on the blood-soaked floor as my teeth relentlessly chewed at his crotch, moving from nut to nut to dick. I was now maniacally oblivious to everything but my meal of human flesh. My face between his thighs, in an uncontrollable savage feeding frenzy. I don’t know how long the passion lasted. I just remember that at some point I was laying between his thighs, panting, exhausted, my face in a pool of thick, coagulating blood. When I lifted my head and looked, there was nothing in Jeremy’s crotch but a mass of bloody, yellowish mush. I had consumed everything, cleaned my plate. I lay my head back down, between Jeremy’s quivering thighs, my cheek in the congealing muck, and slept.
I awoke. Peeled my face from the thickened glop. Strands of congealed blood hung from my ear, cheek and lips. Cold now. No longer warm. Jeremy was dead. But he still was sexy, totally covered with his blood, and appetizing. I belched. My dick grew hard as I remembered what was in my belly. I climbed onto his body and began to claw at the broken skin. My teeth pulled at loose pieces, stripping them away, chewing and swallowing, stimulating my passion, reigniting my frenzy, and I devolved again into a crazed and fevered cannibal. With a small knife, I cut off pieces of his flesh and chewed voraciously. His dick was inside me but, like Oliver Twist, I wanted more. I gouged out his eyes and squished them between my teeth. Shoved my knife into his cavernous colon and cut at his guts, pulling some out through his hole. Then opened his belly and yanked out more guts and stuffed them into my mouth. Pieces of butt meat. I was a savage and continued to ravage the corpse until I was bloated. Then I puked his guts out and passed out.
Sorry, guys. This story rambled on too long. I usually edit them down, leaving out some of the shit I do to my victims. Being concise is a virtue. How many times do I have to describe chewing up a tit or biting a dick? I may do it several times during the session but need only to describe it once to make it sensuous. More can be tedious. Oh well, it’s done. Jeremy got into my brain more than any other guy I’ve killed. For the first time, I lost control and yielded to extreme animalistic instincts. Now I wonder. Was this a one-time thing? Or will it happen again? Will there be more Jeremys? Or was he unique. I’ve always taken pride in my self-control during my torture sessions. Will it return when I kill the next time? Yeah, there will be a next time for sure. The cravings won’t go away. As I shovel the mess that was Jeremy into a hole out back, my cock is twitching, my heart is pounding, and my mind is lusting. I’ll find another. Soon. Will I be Cool Caleb again? Or this new lunatic on the brink of an abyss? Time will tell. I’ll let you know.
Meantime, if you’re a horny hot young thing, smooth and built, look me up and introduce yourself. Call me Caleb and I’ll give you the time of your life.
