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- Jan 13, 2012
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- Cannibal Heaven
On a warm summer afternoon, Bradley and Caleb met while jogging in the park. Eyes met, sparks flew, and off they went to Caleb’s house, each expecting a night of ecstasy. But ecstasy has many definitions. Here is my re-telling of their unforgettable encounter.
Bradley’s Tale:
My mind was a bit foggy. I had been jogging in the park when I saw the guy, an incredibly sexy man in shorts and a yellow tank. Our eyes met, we exchanged smiles, jogged side by side for a few miles, and then stopped. “Hi, I’m Bradley. What’s your name?”
“Call me Caleb.”
I remember going to his place outside of town and having a beer. That’s all. Now my head feels strange. I’m in a dark room. Can’t move. Feels like I’m tied to a post. Some sort of gag in my mouth. Christ! I’m naked! What the fuck! I was drugged!
After a long time alone, a door opened and lights were turned on. Bright lights. I couldn’t see anything at first. But as my eyes adjusted, I saw Caleb. He, too, was naked. He paid no attention to me, didn’t even look in my direction. Grabbed some stuff off a shelf and sat down at a table. He pulled out a syringe and tied off his left bicep. Then he removed the plunger and fitted a long rubber tube over the opening. The tube ran down into a plastic jar on the floor. He then ran the syringe into his vein and blood began to flow through the tube into the jar. Holy Shit! What a fucked up thing to do! But I could feel myself getting hard as I watched.
When the jar was filled with his blood, he removed the syringe, picked up the jar and walked to a full length mirror on the wall and stood before it. It was positioned (or I was) so I could see his full reflection. He stood motionless, admiring his stunning body. Caleb was about 6’1”, 185, extremely good-looking, classic proportions, absolutely smooth except for a full head of brown hair. Any other body hair he might have had been shaved. He set the jar down and proceeded to run his hands over his body—sensually caressing his chest, belly, crotch, ass--savoring his own beauty. A supreme narcissist
He picked up the jar and sipped. Holy Christ! Drinking his own blood! Yuck! How sick is that?! Then a full swallow, and in the mirror I could see his red lips and a red mustache like in the milk commercials. He lifted the bottle over his head, poured the blood slowly into his hair, and tossed the jar away. He stood motionless as the crimson liquid ran down his face, into his eyes, around his nose, over lips, dribbling off his chin onto his smooth white chest. At this point I noticed his cock growing bigger. As his blood ran down, his cock moved up. It was huge and was quickly standing straight up, rock hard, slightly curved, pressing tight against his belly. Blood ran over his nipples, between his pecs, over his belly button, where it met the tip of his huge dick. When the warm blood touched Caleb’s cock, it jerked, away from his belly and then back again. The blood continued to flow around his smooth balls, and down his legs, and onto his feet.
All this time, Caleb stood motionless, hands at his side, obviously fixated at the sight of the red elixir on his magnificent body. Then his cock moved, quivering slightly. Caleb’s mouth opened and he began to take deep breaths, then deeper breaths. Then one huge intake of air and his cock exploded. Cum spewed up to his chest, thick creamy jizz mingling with crimson blood on pure white skin. In a spasm of sexual ecstasy Caleb’s hand flew up and pounded against his chest, scratching his pecs, yanking his nipples. The other hand balled into a fist, punching his cock, over and over and over again, as if he was trying to break the curved rod in half. Deep guttural sounds emanated from his open mouth. His hands flew over his body, smearing his blood as it continued to mix with his still-spewing cum. His fingers dug into his soggy hair and his face was smeared red. Never, ever, had I seen anything like this, any man experiencing such a wild spasm of sexual ecstasy! My own dick was hard and would have shot if it had been touched.
Caleb dropped to his knees, still never taking his eyes off his reflection in the mirror. His body continued to jerk and lurch as his curved tool, pressed tight into his belly, would not stop shooting. Eventually, though, as his passion ebbed, Caleb leaned his head to the floor and, still kneeling, began to relax. The moans ceased and his breathing returned to normal. He remained in that near-fetal position, kneeling, forehead on the floor, both hands pressed into his crotch. He stayed that way for a long time.
In time, Caleb pulled himself up and stood again in front of the mirror, a satisfied look in his eyes. His entire body was smeared red and his dick was now soft. The blood was darkening and beginning to congeal. For the longest time, he stared at the reflection as he ran his fingers over his body, gathering globs, and sucking them up with his mouth, like a kid happily licking honey off his fingers.
Caleb walked to a table, picked up a hunting knife, and moved toward me, smiling. His naked body was still magnificent even smeared as it was. He flicked the tip of the knife at my nipple, drew a little blood, leaned in, and tasted me. His head came up with a huge grin. As he removed my gag, he said “Bradley, you are delicious. Let’s have some fun!”
Caleb’s Tale:
I flicked the tip of his nipple with my knife, leaned in, and tasted his blood. “Bradley, you are delicious. Let’s have some fun.”
Every once in a while, I do a session by myself where I draw my blood, pour it over my body, and have intense sex with myself in front of a mirror. When it’s over, I’m covered head to toe and physically spent. I’m totally turned on to myself but sometimes wonder what it might look like to someone else. Would it be nauseating or could it be a turn-on? So, I found Bradley when jogging in the park. A beautiful, well-built guy, smooth white skin, blue eyes, shoulder-length blond hair pulled into a pony tail. After I drugged him and shaved him smooth, I tied him to a post which was positioned so he could watch me from about fifteen feet away. I left him alone until I was sure his head was clear and then came into the room and did my weird blood ritual. I totally concentrated on my body and its blood, but was also aware that his dick was hard the whole time. So, it was time to play together.
When I nicked his nipple, he seemed scared. But as I leaned against him, our naked bodies touching, my coagulating blood smearing his chest and belly, he seemed to relax and, yes, his dick hardened. “You like blood, don’t you, Bradley? You like what you saw and want the same. You want to taste blood, my blood, your blood, don’t you? You want the taste of blood in your mouth?” He began to breathe heavily and slowly nodded. “I thought so.” I put my lips to his and kissed him. He began to suck at the dried blood on my lips, and then ran his tongue wildly over my face, licking the coagulating blood. He seemed in ecstasy, lapping my face, panting heavily. I pulled back, touched my finger to his bloody nipple, and then put it to his lips. He immediately wrapped his mouth around my finger, sucking, savoring the taste of his own blood. “Oh, Bradley, I knew you wanted blood on your tongue and you shall have it.” I kissed his lips and caressed his cheek. “Yes, fun together, you and me, absolute pleasure.” His eyes looked into mine, a dreamy yearning look. With my left hand, I pulled on his pony tail and his head fell back, mouth wide open, eyes closed in trance-like anticipation of……
I sliced the top of his tongue with my knife.
His body jerked in pain. His head flew forward and then back, banging against the post. He screamed. Blood spewed from his mouth, splattering my face and chest. It dibbled down his chin and onto his smooth chest, white skin now streaked with crimson. He struggled wildly against his ropes, his screams not so piercing as blood filled his mouth, gurgling, spitting, chocking.
“Relax, Bradley. Calm down. The cut isn’t deep. It’s not really much blood. Savor the taste. Swallow. Spit. Spit at me if you want. Mix our blood together on my naked body. Enjoy this.” Hmm. My calming words did not calm him. He continued to struggle, emitting loud gurgling sounds. I let him go on for a while, enjoying it all, but finally, to shut him up, I rammed my fist deep into his gut. Air shot from his lungs, spewing blood with it. Bradley was suddenly silent, momentarily paralyzed. I punched his gut again. Then unbound his chest from the post, letting his upper body slump forward. Even though there really wasn’t much blood, I didn’t want his to choke on it.
I went into the next room to get a hypo of morphine. I grabbed one of his arms, still tied behind the post. He had prominent veins so I had no problem injecting him. He immediately relaxed and slumped forward. I untied him from the post and laid him face down on the floor. I knelt, caressing his stunning body. I untied his pony tail and let his hair fall loose.
I pulled him to a standing position and, in minutes, he was chained spread-eagled and vulnerable. Still groggy, his head leaned forward and his body slumped in the chains. I began to caress his magnificent body. He was solid and muscular. Very handsome. Large, solid thighs and sinewy calves. Beautiful thick blond hair hanging below his shoulders. And the sexiest bubble butt I’d ever seen. My hands and my mouth caressed every inch of his body. As I kneeled in front of his soft cock, I nibbled at the uncut head, cleaning his cheesy foreskin with my tongue. I shoved the whole thing into my mouth and chewed lightly. Warm drops of blood fell from his mouth onto my head and naked shoulders. Then I got up, grabbed another hypo, injected liquid Viagra into the base of his cock and in seconds I saw that his engorged tool was as spectacular as his body. Fat and almost ten inches! Christ! How can anyone take that up the ass? Well, I would never find out, of course. I just knelt and wrapped my mouth around it and chewed on it. I really wanted to dig my teeth into that huge cock but restrained myself. Not yet. Save that for later.
I stood and stared at Bradley, still groggy, slumped in his chains. So beautiful. So vulnerable. I knew what I had to do. I smashed my fist hard and deep into his relaxed belly. There are few things that give me a greater sexual surge than sucker punching a guy’s stomach. Why is it so satisfying to punch a man with your fists? Since time immemorial, man has created sports to do just that. And spectators love the sight of man on man, and bloody faces and bashed up bodies. I’m no different. There is a great sexual release in punching a man, a good-looking, well-built, naked, helpless man. Hitting Bradley was no different.
As my fist drove deep into his gut, Bradley expelled a huge rush of air, mixed with blood which splattered into my face. Oh, Jesus! Suddenly alert, he stood with his mouth open trying to breathe, to draw in air. He couldn’t. I smashed his gut again. And again. And again. His mouth just hung open, paralyzed, unable to suck air into his lungs. Seeing an opportunity, I picked up a small pair of scissors, reached into his mouth, and snipped off the tip of his tongue. Bradley tried to scream but couldn’t, couldn’t make any sound without air in his lungs. I resumed punching. I particularly liked ramming his ribcage and up into his armpits. And that spectacular bubble butt! It had to be bruised. Or fucked. Or cut. By God, I’ll eat that ass tonight! My arms tired. Bradley had slouched again from my onslaught. His mouth was dribbling even more blood onto his chest and he was still trying to suck in air when I left him and went to shower.
I came back an hour later, cleaned up and refreshed from a snack. I was still naked except for my heavy construction boots. I admired my sexiness in the mirror and wondered if Bradley would view me the same. Actually, no. He was standing on his own and struggling to get free of his chains. More blood had run down his torso from his mouth. His hair had fallen over his face and was partially soaked with blood and stuck to his face. When he saw me he shouted, “Bastard! Fucker! Let me go!” which sounded more like “Bathar! Fuksher! Lah me ghow!” (It’s difficult to enunciate properly with your mouth full.) He spewed more blood and spit into my face. “Oh, Bradley. You do the sweetest things to me. You really want my face covered with blood again, don’t you? Works for me. Well, here’s how you can spit even more on me.” I leaned forward and grabbed his lower lip with my teeth and bit hard, feeling my teeth cut into his flesh. I pulled back brutally, leaving him with a half-inch rip in his lip. He screeched as blood poured from this new wound, onto his chest and belly, around his cock, and down his legs. There were tears of pain streaming down his face, mixing with the blood. I slapped him hard on his face, splattering blood from his mouth and lip. He shut up, slumped in his chains, and began to sob. With a pleading voice he whispered, “Why, Caleb?” I held him and softly said, “Just because, Bradley. Because you’re beautiful. Because you came here to please me. Because I want to. Because I like to. Just because. Nothing more.” His warm, slippery skin against my naked body felt good. His bloody mouth was against my ear, his sobs so sweet. “Yes, Bradley, let your emotions out. We’ll both feel better. You’re a wonderful man, so fucking sexy.” I knelt and took his cock deep into my throat and kept it there as I caressed his muscular legs, running my hands over them and up to his firm ass. I stayed in that position for a while, totally relaxed, feeling his body quiver and many drops of blood falling into my hair.
Spread-eagled, his magnificent body took my breath away. How had he come to me? Who knows? But, as they say, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Even a bloody mouth. So I picked up a switch, a thin, flexible wooden stick and swung it into his ribs, still sensitive from my fists. He jumped and let out a squeal. I touched the spot and felt a warm red welt. I walked behind him and swung the stick at his back. The beauty of the switch is that it seldom breaks the skin and draws blood. The pain is stinging, not severe, so a man will feel every stroke. And it raises sexy red welts. I continued, whacking at his back from several directions to create a beautiful crisscross pattern. Then on to the beautiful bubble butt. Bradley was yelling, screeching, spitting blood, jerking in his chains, begging me to stop, but the stick continued its relentless attack on his smooth white skin. Thighs and calves next. And several swings to the back and top of his head. I stopped. He was still sobbing but his shouts and cries had been reduced to whimpers and whines.
When I came around in front of him, his eyes bugged in abject fear. The stick found his belly and the fronts of his legs. His chest. His biceps. And finally, inevitably, I stood looking down at that massive cock, rock hard and protruding ramrod straight from his crotch. “Oh look, Bradley.” “Noooooooooooo!” “Yesssssss!” The stick swung down and struck that magnificent meat. It jumped. He jumped. And I resumed the onslaught. The first whack on his dick felt wonderful. To me if not to him. I hit it from all directions from the base to the tip. After, that cock, covered with red welts, looked even bigger.
When I stopped, I was tired, Bradly was sobbing, and his skin was a mass of thin red welts, crisscrossing in every direction. Again, I wrapped him in my arms. His body was hot, sexually of course, but also in another way. The beating, the welting, had created a tremendous body heat. Red welts and a body on fire. His heat stimulated me. My dick pressed hard against his. I pressed my lips to his, tasted his blood, sucked at his torn lip…..and my dick exploded! Great globs of creamy white semen shot between our bellies, lubricating the gyrations as I humped his hard gut. My body quivered in ecstasy as his body quivered in pain. It went on and on and on. Humping and cumming. Humping and cumming. I could not stop. Until, finally, I did. I released him and dropped to the floor, exhausted. I lay there for, how long? I have no idea. Eventually, I slid over, grabbed his bare foot, pressed it to my face, and slept.
I awoke to the feeling of a warm liquid falling on me. Bradley. Pissing. I got up on my knees and saw he, too, was passed out. The piss was involuntary. I put my mouth on his cock and drank what remained. Sweet. He still tasted nice.
It is so hard for me not to caress a fine body, whether during sex or torture or death. Again, I held him tight and ran my hands over his beautiful welts. I knelt, licked my cum from his belly, took his hard dick in my mouth, and bit down hard. Very hard this time. As hard as I could. I heard his scream and I could taste his blood. Heaven! I broke the skin on both sides, top and bottom. I bit again and ground my teeth deeply into that enormous piece of man meat. More pain for him. More pleasure for me. Oh, this thing is going to taste so good later!
I loosened his feet and tied them together, attached a pulley and pulled him up. I unchained his wrists and his body fell, leaving him upside down, his arms and hair almost touching the floor. I picked up a dildo. No, not what you think. It was one of those two foot long, double-ended things, which make a perfect truncheon. Not as hard or dangerous as a police baton, but still solid and flexible enough to inflict pain and make nasty marks. My first hit was to those two sagging nuts. The body jerked wildly and he let out a horrible scream. After his body calmed a bit, my next his was to his lower back. A deep guttural grunt. And one to the back of his head. And so it began, my assault with a latex truncheon (sounds better than assault with a dildo).
Poor Bradley. Hanging naked by his feet. Pummeled by a dildo. Terrified. Shrieking. Hands flailing unsuccessfully to stop the blows. Crying for me to stop. Of course, I didn’t. My truncheon struck at his belly, pecs, pits, ribs, kidneys, thighs, calves. Now, the thin red welts were joined by wide, dark bruises of various shades. Upside down, his blood now flowed the other way, into his hair, soaking it in scarlet. He was looking fabulous. A pair of pliers violently twisted his nipples. And then his ears, practically ripping off one lobe. My teeth clamped down again on his fat cock. I took a handful of his hair and pulled his head up, painfully arching his back, and punched his jaw and both eyes.
I dropped him to the floor and removed all his chains. His beautiful, smooth, white body was now an ugly, welted mass of black and purple bruises. But to me, not ugly at all. He was actually even more stunning. I have jerked off to bruised and battered bodies on CDG, but this was better than any on that site. And the bubble butt beckoned again. I fell to the floor and began to bite. Never broke the skin but left dozens of teeth marks. My tongue worked its way into his crack and I licked and sucked at his pink, puckered hole. There are many ways to eat ass and I wanted to try them all with Bradley’s. Then I moved on to bite biceps and pecs.
My favorite video is Luka carving up Jin and eating his ass. (Stupid Luka didn’t have the sense to properly sharpen his knife.) Jin was dead when Luka began the dismemberment, so there was no blood. Every piece of Jin was beautiful because you could see the cuts, the bones, the cross sections. The video is hot because Jin is dead. If he is alive, it’s a big bloody mess. But, on the other hand, my joy is torture. I don’t want a silent corpse. I want a beautiful, writhing, screaming man, a man subject to my whims and reacting to me. Blood is good. Blood is desired. Blood is to be savored, tasted, consumed. Today, however, I chose not to spill Bradley’s blood. Not yet anyway. I wanted to bruise and disfigure this gorgeous man. Later, when he is dead, I will carve his pretty ass and body and take the meat to my kitchen. But not yet.
I stood over Bradley and looked at his still magnificent if battered body. I rammed my boot into his ribs. I stomped his ass and legs. Stood on his back and ground my heels into his thick muscles. Twisted my fist into his swollen eyes. I created a lot more purple bruises as my passions rose. Bradley lay on his belly. I pulled his feet up and began to chew on them, frantically chew on them. No matter that his feet were filthy and smelly, and his toes had fungus crud. I was a bitch in heat and didn’t give a shit. I gnawed on those feet, biting into his soles and pulling away sole meat. I sucked and chewed his funky toes, biting off three of them and masticating for five minutes before swallowing. My passions were so aroused that I could have gone totally crazy on his body if I hadn’t managed to catch myself. Whoa, Caleb! Stop! I was panting uncontrollably and my fangs were bared, ready to attack. Calm down. I turned away from Bradley and let my heart rate return to normal. I forced myself to rest.
I turned back to Bradley, lying face down, moaning in pain from the effects of my boots and teeth. I stood over his back, grabbed two fistfuls of his long, blood-soaked hair, and pulled his head up. And back, arching his body backwards until his head almost touched his feet. Could have broken his back. He made more strange guttural sounds as I kept him in this painful position. I considered tying his hair to his ankles but instead just released his hair. He fell forward, his face smashing on the floor. Cool! I had an idea. I pulled his head up again and slid a brick in place. Then I arched him back again and when I let go, his face smashed onto the brick. A grunt and a long low moan. When I removed the brick and raised his head, I saw the broken nose. And, of course, more blood.
As he lay in pain, motionless, I took a large steel ring and began to tie Bradley’s long hair to it. Lots of tight knots. I attached the pulley to the ring and began to drag him back to the posts. Since I was a kid, I’ve wanted to drag a naked man by his hair. To swing him in a circle and let him crash into a wall or slide across a dirt field or fly into a barbed wire fence. Alas, there was no space for swinging in here, but watching Bradley being dragged across the room was an intense turn-on. At first, there was no reaction by him but as the ring began to pull him upward, he became very attentive, yelling, and grabbing at the chain to ease the tension on his scalp. When he reached a standing position, I reattached his ankles to the posts. He stood spread-eagled, holding the chain above. I stood in front of him in his full view and pulled on the pulley rope. He watched me in terror as I lifted him off the floor until his chained feet kept him from rising higher. He hung suspended by his hair, naked, bruised horribly, black eyes swollen almost shut, blood flowing from his mouth and nose and lip. Helpless. Panic, fear, terror as he sensed the inevitable. He let out a series of high pitched howls. The howls of a dying animal. I resumed pulling.
He screamed as the first a bit of hair tore loose of his scalp. He knew. I knew. I pulled harder and a few more strands ripped loose. A stream of blood ran down his sweating forehead. Bradley’s screams grew more frantic, more hysterical, more terrified. Then, it all seemed to happen at once. A large patch of hair pulled loose, followed by a bigger patch, and suddenly all of it ripped away from his head. Bradley fell heavily to the floor, his ankles still awkwardly attached to the posts. He was screaming hysterically, spewing blood, putting his hand to his head, touching, feeling for the long blond hair which now hung on a ring far above him. I unchained his ankles and pulled him close, pressing his body to mine even as that body convulsed in pain and shock. Hands flailing wildly, reaching for his golden hair but touching only a bloody skull. I held him tightly, partially to keep him still, partially to savor his pain, to feel his extreme pain coursing into my body as pure pleasure. My dick was rock hard, standing, quivering with joy. Little by little, Bradley calmed. Screams became groans became whimpers became deep guttural breathing. Less thrashing and jerking, more twitching and quivering. I lay beside him, beside his battered and bruised but still magnificent body, black and purple now, white skin no longer in evidence. I caressed him tenderly. I licked his sticky, oozing skull, one of the most erotic moments of my life. I chewed on his torn lip, sucking the warm coagulating elixir, and nibbling on his torn skin. I took his broken nose into my mouth, a mix of blood and snot, and bit it completely off.
As his life ebbed away, Bradley continued to please. My mouth was full, chewing on his nose, as I whispered in his ear, “Bradley, you are delicious. We’ve had some fun. Thanks for coming over.”
Bradley’s Tale:
My mind was a bit foggy. I had been jogging in the park when I saw the guy, an incredibly sexy man in shorts and a yellow tank. Our eyes met, we exchanged smiles, jogged side by side for a few miles, and then stopped. “Hi, I’m Bradley. What’s your name?”
“Call me Caleb.”
I remember going to his place outside of town and having a beer. That’s all. Now my head feels strange. I’m in a dark room. Can’t move. Feels like I’m tied to a post. Some sort of gag in my mouth. Christ! I’m naked! What the fuck! I was drugged!
After a long time alone, a door opened and lights were turned on. Bright lights. I couldn’t see anything at first. But as my eyes adjusted, I saw Caleb. He, too, was naked. He paid no attention to me, didn’t even look in my direction. Grabbed some stuff off a shelf and sat down at a table. He pulled out a syringe and tied off his left bicep. Then he removed the plunger and fitted a long rubber tube over the opening. The tube ran down into a plastic jar on the floor. He then ran the syringe into his vein and blood began to flow through the tube into the jar. Holy Shit! What a fucked up thing to do! But I could feel myself getting hard as I watched.
When the jar was filled with his blood, he removed the syringe, picked up the jar and walked to a full length mirror on the wall and stood before it. It was positioned (or I was) so I could see his full reflection. He stood motionless, admiring his stunning body. Caleb was about 6’1”, 185, extremely good-looking, classic proportions, absolutely smooth except for a full head of brown hair. Any other body hair he might have had been shaved. He set the jar down and proceeded to run his hands over his body—sensually caressing his chest, belly, crotch, ass--savoring his own beauty. A supreme narcissist
He picked up the jar and sipped. Holy Christ! Drinking his own blood! Yuck! How sick is that?! Then a full swallow, and in the mirror I could see his red lips and a red mustache like in the milk commercials. He lifted the bottle over his head, poured the blood slowly into his hair, and tossed the jar away. He stood motionless as the crimson liquid ran down his face, into his eyes, around his nose, over lips, dribbling off his chin onto his smooth white chest. At this point I noticed his cock growing bigger. As his blood ran down, his cock moved up. It was huge and was quickly standing straight up, rock hard, slightly curved, pressing tight against his belly. Blood ran over his nipples, between his pecs, over his belly button, where it met the tip of his huge dick. When the warm blood touched Caleb’s cock, it jerked, away from his belly and then back again. The blood continued to flow around his smooth balls, and down his legs, and onto his feet.
All this time, Caleb stood motionless, hands at his side, obviously fixated at the sight of the red elixir on his magnificent body. Then his cock moved, quivering slightly. Caleb’s mouth opened and he began to take deep breaths, then deeper breaths. Then one huge intake of air and his cock exploded. Cum spewed up to his chest, thick creamy jizz mingling with crimson blood on pure white skin. In a spasm of sexual ecstasy Caleb’s hand flew up and pounded against his chest, scratching his pecs, yanking his nipples. The other hand balled into a fist, punching his cock, over and over and over again, as if he was trying to break the curved rod in half. Deep guttural sounds emanated from his open mouth. His hands flew over his body, smearing his blood as it continued to mix with his still-spewing cum. His fingers dug into his soggy hair and his face was smeared red. Never, ever, had I seen anything like this, any man experiencing such a wild spasm of sexual ecstasy! My own dick was hard and would have shot if it had been touched.
Caleb dropped to his knees, still never taking his eyes off his reflection in the mirror. His body continued to jerk and lurch as his curved tool, pressed tight into his belly, would not stop shooting. Eventually, though, as his passion ebbed, Caleb leaned his head to the floor and, still kneeling, began to relax. The moans ceased and his breathing returned to normal. He remained in that near-fetal position, kneeling, forehead on the floor, both hands pressed into his crotch. He stayed that way for a long time.
In time, Caleb pulled himself up and stood again in front of the mirror, a satisfied look in his eyes. His entire body was smeared red and his dick was now soft. The blood was darkening and beginning to congeal. For the longest time, he stared at the reflection as he ran his fingers over his body, gathering globs, and sucking them up with his mouth, like a kid happily licking honey off his fingers.
Caleb walked to a table, picked up a hunting knife, and moved toward me, smiling. His naked body was still magnificent even smeared as it was. He flicked the tip of the knife at my nipple, drew a little blood, leaned in, and tasted me. His head came up with a huge grin. As he removed my gag, he said “Bradley, you are delicious. Let’s have some fun!”
Caleb’s Tale:
I flicked the tip of his nipple with my knife, leaned in, and tasted his blood. “Bradley, you are delicious. Let’s have some fun.”
Every once in a while, I do a session by myself where I draw my blood, pour it over my body, and have intense sex with myself in front of a mirror. When it’s over, I’m covered head to toe and physically spent. I’m totally turned on to myself but sometimes wonder what it might look like to someone else. Would it be nauseating or could it be a turn-on? So, I found Bradley when jogging in the park. A beautiful, well-built guy, smooth white skin, blue eyes, shoulder-length blond hair pulled into a pony tail. After I drugged him and shaved him smooth, I tied him to a post which was positioned so he could watch me from about fifteen feet away. I left him alone until I was sure his head was clear and then came into the room and did my weird blood ritual. I totally concentrated on my body and its blood, but was also aware that his dick was hard the whole time. So, it was time to play together.
When I nicked his nipple, he seemed scared. But as I leaned against him, our naked bodies touching, my coagulating blood smearing his chest and belly, he seemed to relax and, yes, his dick hardened. “You like blood, don’t you, Bradley? You like what you saw and want the same. You want to taste blood, my blood, your blood, don’t you? You want the taste of blood in your mouth?” He began to breathe heavily and slowly nodded. “I thought so.” I put my lips to his and kissed him. He began to suck at the dried blood on my lips, and then ran his tongue wildly over my face, licking the coagulating blood. He seemed in ecstasy, lapping my face, panting heavily. I pulled back, touched my finger to his bloody nipple, and then put it to his lips. He immediately wrapped his mouth around my finger, sucking, savoring the taste of his own blood. “Oh, Bradley, I knew you wanted blood on your tongue and you shall have it.” I kissed his lips and caressed his cheek. “Yes, fun together, you and me, absolute pleasure.” His eyes looked into mine, a dreamy yearning look. With my left hand, I pulled on his pony tail and his head fell back, mouth wide open, eyes closed in trance-like anticipation of……
I sliced the top of his tongue with my knife.
His body jerked in pain. His head flew forward and then back, banging against the post. He screamed. Blood spewed from his mouth, splattering my face and chest. It dibbled down his chin and onto his smooth chest, white skin now streaked with crimson. He struggled wildly against his ropes, his screams not so piercing as blood filled his mouth, gurgling, spitting, chocking.
“Relax, Bradley. Calm down. The cut isn’t deep. It’s not really much blood. Savor the taste. Swallow. Spit. Spit at me if you want. Mix our blood together on my naked body. Enjoy this.” Hmm. My calming words did not calm him. He continued to struggle, emitting loud gurgling sounds. I let him go on for a while, enjoying it all, but finally, to shut him up, I rammed my fist deep into his gut. Air shot from his lungs, spewing blood with it. Bradley was suddenly silent, momentarily paralyzed. I punched his gut again. Then unbound his chest from the post, letting his upper body slump forward. Even though there really wasn’t much blood, I didn’t want his to choke on it.
I went into the next room to get a hypo of morphine. I grabbed one of his arms, still tied behind the post. He had prominent veins so I had no problem injecting him. He immediately relaxed and slumped forward. I untied him from the post and laid him face down on the floor. I knelt, caressing his stunning body. I untied his pony tail and let his hair fall loose.
I pulled him to a standing position and, in minutes, he was chained spread-eagled and vulnerable. Still groggy, his head leaned forward and his body slumped in the chains. I began to caress his magnificent body. He was solid and muscular. Very handsome. Large, solid thighs and sinewy calves. Beautiful thick blond hair hanging below his shoulders. And the sexiest bubble butt I’d ever seen. My hands and my mouth caressed every inch of his body. As I kneeled in front of his soft cock, I nibbled at the uncut head, cleaning his cheesy foreskin with my tongue. I shoved the whole thing into my mouth and chewed lightly. Warm drops of blood fell from his mouth onto my head and naked shoulders. Then I got up, grabbed another hypo, injected liquid Viagra into the base of his cock and in seconds I saw that his engorged tool was as spectacular as his body. Fat and almost ten inches! Christ! How can anyone take that up the ass? Well, I would never find out, of course. I just knelt and wrapped my mouth around it and chewed on it. I really wanted to dig my teeth into that huge cock but restrained myself. Not yet. Save that for later.
I stood and stared at Bradley, still groggy, slumped in his chains. So beautiful. So vulnerable. I knew what I had to do. I smashed my fist hard and deep into his relaxed belly. There are few things that give me a greater sexual surge than sucker punching a guy’s stomach. Why is it so satisfying to punch a man with your fists? Since time immemorial, man has created sports to do just that. And spectators love the sight of man on man, and bloody faces and bashed up bodies. I’m no different. There is a great sexual release in punching a man, a good-looking, well-built, naked, helpless man. Hitting Bradley was no different.
As my fist drove deep into his gut, Bradley expelled a huge rush of air, mixed with blood which splattered into my face. Oh, Jesus! Suddenly alert, he stood with his mouth open trying to breathe, to draw in air. He couldn’t. I smashed his gut again. And again. And again. His mouth just hung open, paralyzed, unable to suck air into his lungs. Seeing an opportunity, I picked up a small pair of scissors, reached into his mouth, and snipped off the tip of his tongue. Bradley tried to scream but couldn’t, couldn’t make any sound without air in his lungs. I resumed punching. I particularly liked ramming his ribcage and up into his armpits. And that spectacular bubble butt! It had to be bruised. Or fucked. Or cut. By God, I’ll eat that ass tonight! My arms tired. Bradley had slouched again from my onslaught. His mouth was dribbling even more blood onto his chest and he was still trying to suck in air when I left him and went to shower.
I came back an hour later, cleaned up and refreshed from a snack. I was still naked except for my heavy construction boots. I admired my sexiness in the mirror and wondered if Bradley would view me the same. Actually, no. He was standing on his own and struggling to get free of his chains. More blood had run down his torso from his mouth. His hair had fallen over his face and was partially soaked with blood and stuck to his face. When he saw me he shouted, “Bastard! Fucker! Let me go!” which sounded more like “Bathar! Fuksher! Lah me ghow!” (It’s difficult to enunciate properly with your mouth full.) He spewed more blood and spit into my face. “Oh, Bradley. You do the sweetest things to me. You really want my face covered with blood again, don’t you? Works for me. Well, here’s how you can spit even more on me.” I leaned forward and grabbed his lower lip with my teeth and bit hard, feeling my teeth cut into his flesh. I pulled back brutally, leaving him with a half-inch rip in his lip. He screeched as blood poured from this new wound, onto his chest and belly, around his cock, and down his legs. There were tears of pain streaming down his face, mixing with the blood. I slapped him hard on his face, splattering blood from his mouth and lip. He shut up, slumped in his chains, and began to sob. With a pleading voice he whispered, “Why, Caleb?” I held him and softly said, “Just because, Bradley. Because you’re beautiful. Because you came here to please me. Because I want to. Because I like to. Just because. Nothing more.” His warm, slippery skin against my naked body felt good. His bloody mouth was against my ear, his sobs so sweet. “Yes, Bradley, let your emotions out. We’ll both feel better. You’re a wonderful man, so fucking sexy.” I knelt and took his cock deep into my throat and kept it there as I caressed his muscular legs, running my hands over them and up to his firm ass. I stayed in that position for a while, totally relaxed, feeling his body quiver and many drops of blood falling into my hair.
Spread-eagled, his magnificent body took my breath away. How had he come to me? Who knows? But, as they say, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Even a bloody mouth. So I picked up a switch, a thin, flexible wooden stick and swung it into his ribs, still sensitive from my fists. He jumped and let out a squeal. I touched the spot and felt a warm red welt. I walked behind him and swung the stick at his back. The beauty of the switch is that it seldom breaks the skin and draws blood. The pain is stinging, not severe, so a man will feel every stroke. And it raises sexy red welts. I continued, whacking at his back from several directions to create a beautiful crisscross pattern. Then on to the beautiful bubble butt. Bradley was yelling, screeching, spitting blood, jerking in his chains, begging me to stop, but the stick continued its relentless attack on his smooth white skin. Thighs and calves next. And several swings to the back and top of his head. I stopped. He was still sobbing but his shouts and cries had been reduced to whimpers and whines.
When I came around in front of him, his eyes bugged in abject fear. The stick found his belly and the fronts of his legs. His chest. His biceps. And finally, inevitably, I stood looking down at that massive cock, rock hard and protruding ramrod straight from his crotch. “Oh look, Bradley.” “Noooooooooooo!” “Yesssssss!” The stick swung down and struck that magnificent meat. It jumped. He jumped. And I resumed the onslaught. The first whack on his dick felt wonderful. To me if not to him. I hit it from all directions from the base to the tip. After, that cock, covered with red welts, looked even bigger.
When I stopped, I was tired, Bradly was sobbing, and his skin was a mass of thin red welts, crisscrossing in every direction. Again, I wrapped him in my arms. His body was hot, sexually of course, but also in another way. The beating, the welting, had created a tremendous body heat. Red welts and a body on fire. His heat stimulated me. My dick pressed hard against his. I pressed my lips to his, tasted his blood, sucked at his torn lip…..and my dick exploded! Great globs of creamy white semen shot between our bellies, lubricating the gyrations as I humped his hard gut. My body quivered in ecstasy as his body quivered in pain. It went on and on and on. Humping and cumming. Humping and cumming. I could not stop. Until, finally, I did. I released him and dropped to the floor, exhausted. I lay there for, how long? I have no idea. Eventually, I slid over, grabbed his bare foot, pressed it to my face, and slept.
I awoke to the feeling of a warm liquid falling on me. Bradley. Pissing. I got up on my knees and saw he, too, was passed out. The piss was involuntary. I put my mouth on his cock and drank what remained. Sweet. He still tasted nice.
It is so hard for me not to caress a fine body, whether during sex or torture or death. Again, I held him tight and ran my hands over his beautiful welts. I knelt, licked my cum from his belly, took his hard dick in my mouth, and bit down hard. Very hard this time. As hard as I could. I heard his scream and I could taste his blood. Heaven! I broke the skin on both sides, top and bottom. I bit again and ground my teeth deeply into that enormous piece of man meat. More pain for him. More pleasure for me. Oh, this thing is going to taste so good later!
I loosened his feet and tied them together, attached a pulley and pulled him up. I unchained his wrists and his body fell, leaving him upside down, his arms and hair almost touching the floor. I picked up a dildo. No, not what you think. It was one of those two foot long, double-ended things, which make a perfect truncheon. Not as hard or dangerous as a police baton, but still solid and flexible enough to inflict pain and make nasty marks. My first hit was to those two sagging nuts. The body jerked wildly and he let out a horrible scream. After his body calmed a bit, my next his was to his lower back. A deep guttural grunt. And one to the back of his head. And so it began, my assault with a latex truncheon (sounds better than assault with a dildo).
Poor Bradley. Hanging naked by his feet. Pummeled by a dildo. Terrified. Shrieking. Hands flailing unsuccessfully to stop the blows. Crying for me to stop. Of course, I didn’t. My truncheon struck at his belly, pecs, pits, ribs, kidneys, thighs, calves. Now, the thin red welts were joined by wide, dark bruises of various shades. Upside down, his blood now flowed the other way, into his hair, soaking it in scarlet. He was looking fabulous. A pair of pliers violently twisted his nipples. And then his ears, practically ripping off one lobe. My teeth clamped down again on his fat cock. I took a handful of his hair and pulled his head up, painfully arching his back, and punched his jaw and both eyes.
I dropped him to the floor and removed all his chains. His beautiful, smooth, white body was now an ugly, welted mass of black and purple bruises. But to me, not ugly at all. He was actually even more stunning. I have jerked off to bruised and battered bodies on CDG, but this was better than any on that site. And the bubble butt beckoned again. I fell to the floor and began to bite. Never broke the skin but left dozens of teeth marks. My tongue worked its way into his crack and I licked and sucked at his pink, puckered hole. There are many ways to eat ass and I wanted to try them all with Bradley’s. Then I moved on to bite biceps and pecs.
My favorite video is Luka carving up Jin and eating his ass. (Stupid Luka didn’t have the sense to properly sharpen his knife.) Jin was dead when Luka began the dismemberment, so there was no blood. Every piece of Jin was beautiful because you could see the cuts, the bones, the cross sections. The video is hot because Jin is dead. If he is alive, it’s a big bloody mess. But, on the other hand, my joy is torture. I don’t want a silent corpse. I want a beautiful, writhing, screaming man, a man subject to my whims and reacting to me. Blood is good. Blood is desired. Blood is to be savored, tasted, consumed. Today, however, I chose not to spill Bradley’s blood. Not yet anyway. I wanted to bruise and disfigure this gorgeous man. Later, when he is dead, I will carve his pretty ass and body and take the meat to my kitchen. But not yet.
I stood over Bradley and looked at his still magnificent if battered body. I rammed my boot into his ribs. I stomped his ass and legs. Stood on his back and ground my heels into his thick muscles. Twisted my fist into his swollen eyes. I created a lot more purple bruises as my passions rose. Bradley lay on his belly. I pulled his feet up and began to chew on them, frantically chew on them. No matter that his feet were filthy and smelly, and his toes had fungus crud. I was a bitch in heat and didn’t give a shit. I gnawed on those feet, biting into his soles and pulling away sole meat. I sucked and chewed his funky toes, biting off three of them and masticating for five minutes before swallowing. My passions were so aroused that I could have gone totally crazy on his body if I hadn’t managed to catch myself. Whoa, Caleb! Stop! I was panting uncontrollably and my fangs were bared, ready to attack. Calm down. I turned away from Bradley and let my heart rate return to normal. I forced myself to rest.
I turned back to Bradley, lying face down, moaning in pain from the effects of my boots and teeth. I stood over his back, grabbed two fistfuls of his long, blood-soaked hair, and pulled his head up. And back, arching his body backwards until his head almost touched his feet. Could have broken his back. He made more strange guttural sounds as I kept him in this painful position. I considered tying his hair to his ankles but instead just released his hair. He fell forward, his face smashing on the floor. Cool! I had an idea. I pulled his head up again and slid a brick in place. Then I arched him back again and when I let go, his face smashed onto the brick. A grunt and a long low moan. When I removed the brick and raised his head, I saw the broken nose. And, of course, more blood.
As he lay in pain, motionless, I took a large steel ring and began to tie Bradley’s long hair to it. Lots of tight knots. I attached the pulley to the ring and began to drag him back to the posts. Since I was a kid, I’ve wanted to drag a naked man by his hair. To swing him in a circle and let him crash into a wall or slide across a dirt field or fly into a barbed wire fence. Alas, there was no space for swinging in here, but watching Bradley being dragged across the room was an intense turn-on. At first, there was no reaction by him but as the ring began to pull him upward, he became very attentive, yelling, and grabbing at the chain to ease the tension on his scalp. When he reached a standing position, I reattached his ankles to the posts. He stood spread-eagled, holding the chain above. I stood in front of him in his full view and pulled on the pulley rope. He watched me in terror as I lifted him off the floor until his chained feet kept him from rising higher. He hung suspended by his hair, naked, bruised horribly, black eyes swollen almost shut, blood flowing from his mouth and nose and lip. Helpless. Panic, fear, terror as he sensed the inevitable. He let out a series of high pitched howls. The howls of a dying animal. I resumed pulling.
He screamed as the first a bit of hair tore loose of his scalp. He knew. I knew. I pulled harder and a few more strands ripped loose. A stream of blood ran down his sweating forehead. Bradley’s screams grew more frantic, more hysterical, more terrified. Then, it all seemed to happen at once. A large patch of hair pulled loose, followed by a bigger patch, and suddenly all of it ripped away from his head. Bradley fell heavily to the floor, his ankles still awkwardly attached to the posts. He was screaming hysterically, spewing blood, putting his hand to his head, touching, feeling for the long blond hair which now hung on a ring far above him. I unchained his ankles and pulled him close, pressing his body to mine even as that body convulsed in pain and shock. Hands flailing wildly, reaching for his golden hair but touching only a bloody skull. I held him tightly, partially to keep him still, partially to savor his pain, to feel his extreme pain coursing into my body as pure pleasure. My dick was rock hard, standing, quivering with joy. Little by little, Bradley calmed. Screams became groans became whimpers became deep guttural breathing. Less thrashing and jerking, more twitching and quivering. I lay beside him, beside his battered and bruised but still magnificent body, black and purple now, white skin no longer in evidence. I caressed him tenderly. I licked his sticky, oozing skull, one of the most erotic moments of my life. I chewed on his torn lip, sucking the warm coagulating elixir, and nibbling on his torn skin. I took his broken nose into my mouth, a mix of blood and snot, and bit it completely off.
As his life ebbed away, Bradley continued to please. My mouth was full, chewing on his nose, as I whispered in his ear, “Bradley, you are delicious. We’ve had some fun. Thanks for coming over.”
