- Joined
- Jan 13, 2012
- Messages
- 6,470
- Location
- Cannibal Heaven
Five men stood at the bottom of the hill. Five men who could have been brothers. Blond. Blue-eyed. Muscular. Smooth young skin. Around six feet, 180-200 pounds. Mid to late twenties. Each wearing tight, white hiking shorts and hiking boots. They were all intently looking at the top of the hill. Soon, a large dump truck came into view and backed toward the crest of the hill. The truck bed rose slowly. The men could hear distant shouting. Suddenly, the rear flap swung open and five naked bodies slid out the back and down the hill, rolling and tumbling head over heels, bouncing down the rocky slope. It was only about forty feet but when they came to rest, all the naked men were moaning and immobile but all still very much conscious.
The victims were as beautiful as the men in shorts, except they all had dark hair. And their smooth, muscular, white skin was now torn and ripped and bloodied from hurtling down the slope. One had a broken arm.
The moment the bodies began to slide off the truck, the five blondes below let out a loud whoop of joy and ran forward. They pounced on the groaning men, ready to let loose an unrestrained lust. A man drove up on a small scooter. “Whoa! Take your time, boys. We have three hours until lunch.” The five turned, laughed, and waved. Then they turned back to the objects of their desire. Each blonde hunk picked out a dark-haired hunk and settled in to kill him in a most hideous manner. And the whole bloody episode was recorded by a talented video crew. Rolf, Gerhardt, and Hans were experts with their cameras, and within hours, could put together a beautiful video.
The man on the scooter was Lothar. He is 33 and made billions in tech. He then purchased a remote island in the Pacific and set about to create his own paradise. Lothar is even more beautiful than the others: Dirk, Horst, Dieter, Matthias, and me, I’m Gunther. We all share with Lothar a love of masculine beauty, masculine perfection…and its bloody destruction. We worship male beauty. We eat and drink male beauty, its flesh and its blood. Lothar lives on the island full time with a small group of like-minded employees. We five are flown in several times a year. Lothar chose each of us, employees and guests, for our beauty and our mutual lust for beautiful men. Despite our relative youth, we also are independently wealthy. We jokingly refer to ourselves as the loyal Vassals of Lord Lothar.
Each time we visit, Lothar plans various events, like today’s garbage dump on the hill. After three hours, all five victims are dead, their bodies hideously mutilated. We five were covered with blood. Our game is always to keep our victims alive for as long as possible so we can enjoy their terror and their pain. And now, we are exhausted but sated. As always, Matthias wear his necklace. His final act of desecration is to slice open his man’s belly and pull out his intestines, which he wraps around his neck and wears for the remainder of our stay. Dieter and Horst try to pull it off his neck with their teeth but mostly in fun and Matthias usually manages to keep his necklace. Dirk likes to save testicles and has several jars of formaldehyde in his cabin filled with them. Me, I prefer to eat them, so Dirk and I are often competing for trophies. It’s all in good fun. Mostly, though, I like dicks. Long, fat chewy dicks. All of us are fond of each other and, after a session like today, we love to kiss and lick the blood off each other.
Lothar has had some ingenious themes, like Autopsy Day. He brought in a pathologist to demonstrate dissection. He started with six young men strapped to rough wooden tables in an open field. He explained that he would have to kill one of them so he could demonstrate without messy blood. We voted and gave him the least sexy of the six. A mallet to his Adams apple killed him quickly, and the doctor began his demonstration. We gathered round closely and watched as he cut and sliced the warm body. We were encouraged to reach in and touch anything. With raging hard-ons, we did just that. In time, all the victim’s organs were laid out beside him: brain, eyeballs, stomach, liver, lungs, kidneys, intestines, testicles, penis, everything. All the extremities had been sliced open. Biceps, thighs, calves, buttocks…all sliced so deeply we could slide your hands inside. There was also a large bucket of blood that he had drained from the corpse.
While all this was going on, the other five men were shrieking in panic, straining frantically at their bonds, screaming obscenities, begging for mercy, and crying. That’s the best part for me: watching a big, muscular, beautiful, butch, truly masculine man reduced to sobbing.
We were each given a set of dissection instruments and told to stand by one of the other victims. We were warned to work slowly and deliberately, and to try to keep our man alive for as long as possible. Of course, he would inevitably bleed to death, but we should enjoy ourselves for as long as we chose. And we did.
Gladiator Combat. We had four huge, rock-solid muscle dudes. All four chained to trees, naked except for an ankle bracelet. We sat in a circle on the ground as two of them were brought out before us. They were told, plain and simple, that they must fight to the death. Only one could survive. And if they didn’t go all out, the ankle bracelet would send a heavy electrical charge into their body. The two grappled halfheartedly, getting the feel of each other. Lothar shouted to pick up the pace and pushed a button that sent an electric shock through their bodies. Both men let out roars of pain and stumbled to their knees. It worked. They got up and began to fight in earnest, as if their life depended on it, which was true. So fucking hot! Two naked giants thrashing in the dirt. Shouts and grunts. Fists pounding hard muscle or soft tissue. Screams of pain. Teeth smashed. Noses flattened. Testicles crushed. Broken teeth tearing at flesh. An eye gouged out and hanging loose. Then a winner, as one finally strangled the other.
The victor lay immobile and exhausted on top of his motionless opponent. We dragged him off and chained him to another tree to watch the next bout. The other two muscle men were brought into the circle and ordered to begin. They had witnessed the first combat, knew what was at stake, and began immediately. This was wilder and more vicious that the first. Sexier, too. One clamped his teeth down on the other’s cock, breaking skin and trying desperately to rip the rod off. But, to no avail, as the other managed to crack the guy’s rib. In pain, his teeth let loose of the cock as a fist smashed into his nose. His mouth opened to scream and suddenly his opponent shoved his hand into his mouth and down his throat. Unable to breathe through his mouth or his broken nose, he slowly, painfully succumbed and died of asphyxiation
Overnight, the two winners were chained within inches of each other, each listening to the other’s breath, smelling the other’s fear of what lay ahead. They got no sleep. I didn’t either as my mind replayed what I had seen. Watching two naked men tear each other apart was almost as great a sexual thrill as killing them myself. In the morning, the two winners stood in the circle. They were already battered from the previous day. One’s dick was severely torn; the other with an eye hanging loose from its socket. The fight began. They battled frantically, viciously, heroically, but in time it was over. Another battered corpse, and another exhausted champion. We examined the winner as he lay panting on the ground. Most of his teeth knocked out. One eye socket empty and the other eye swollen shut. Nose broken. Skin torn from teeth marks. We carried the limp and bloody victor to a picnic table and tied him to it, face down. He offered no resistance.
Suddenly Tobias appeared. Tobias is Lothar’s expert chef. Quite calmly, as if he hadn’t even watched the battle, he said, “Today, I will demonstrate fondue. This was very popular with your great-grandparents, back in the 1930’s. In a small pot, they put melted cheese, chocolate, oil, or broth, and kept it very hot with a flame. Then, using long sharp forks, pieces of meat were dipped into the hot liquid to cook. When cooked, you pull the meat out and eat it. So delicious and great fun for a group of men having beers together. But today I will provide a variation to suit our particular tastes.”
He went over to the winning gladiator, pulled his head back, and cut his throat. Blood gurgled out of his throat and drained down into a bucket. Even as the blood flowed out of the throat, Tobias ladled some into a fondue pot and set it over a low flame to heat. “While we wait for the liquid to heat, let’s munch on some cold cuts.” The gladiator was still twitching in his death throes as Tobias lifted his feet and expertly sliced off thin wafers of his sole meat. Then the cut off the toes and fingers. These were passed among us and we munched and drank beer from our steins as we waited for the blood to heat to a proper temperature. Meantime, Tobias was slicing butt and thigh meat into small pieces. He cut long thin inch-wide strips of skin off the man’s back, and rolled them around pieces of meat. In no time, he had prepared a large charcuterie platter piled high with small pieces of raw gladiator meat. He took a long sharp fork, speared a piece, and set it in the pot. The sweet aroma of simmering blood had all of us aroused. After a few minutes, Tobias removed the fork, put the cooked meat into his mouth, bit down, smiled, and let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Perfekto! Dig in, boys. Eat as much as you like. There’s plenty more meat where this came from.”
Everybody loved the Nigger Hunt. Lothar brought six black men and stood them in front of us, while two of his men held guns on them. One was fully clothed, in rags. Two wore ragged pants. The others were naked. All were barefoot, and each wore some type of iron fetter, just as American slaves often did before the Civil War. A neck collar with spikes. Ankle shackles. Handcuffs. Ball and chain. All designed to slow down a runaway slave. The men were trembling with fear as we surrounded them, touching their skin, rubbing their nipples, looking into their mouths, squeezing their cocks, fondling their balls, caressing their firm young butts, probing their assholes, just as a slave trader would have. Lothar explained what was happening. “You darkies pretend to be escaped slaves. You will run from here and hide on the island. We will try to hunt you down. If we catch you, you will die. But any of you who can evade us for three days, will be sent home. And don’t worry, we don’t have dogs. It’s just us pure whites hunting down you nigger scum. Now get out of here! We’re going to have lunch and then come to get you. Scat!” As they ran or hobbled off into the woods, we hooted and laughed at them.
It was fun, hunting down these guys. And easy, too. Lothar had attached tracking devices to their ankles, so we just followed the GPS. Maybe it was cheating, but we weren’t in it for the exercise. We were in it for the blood. And for the schlanges. All of us perked up when we felt their dicks. It’s true what they say. Niggers have big dicks. Humongous dicks! I was drooling with anticipation!
The first catch was easy. Dude was hiding in some bushes. Pulled him out, tied him to a tree, and whipped him. Didn’t want him to die right away. We wanted his screams to be heard all over the island, by the other escaped slaves. Put real fear in them. After half an hour his back was totally shredded and he was no longer screaming. Just soft whimpering. We retied him and whipped his front side. He died. I cut off his big black dick and nuts, and put them it in my backpack. Matthias sliced his belly and extracted a new necklace.
The others were also easy to catch. We hung one by the neck. Another we hung by his wrists and then skinned him alive. Hung one by his feet and then lowered his wooly head into a fire. Found one up a tree. Wolfgang, a helper, had a bow and arrow and nailed him in the thigh, which caused him to fall out of the tree. We pretended we were dogs and bit and chewed him to death, howling with delight. That was fun! The last dude we hung from a tree by his wrists. Horst made a torch, lit it, and held the fire to his balls. Oh, did he dance, like a puppet on a string. Then we built a big fire under him and burned him to a crisp. (But not before I removed his cock and balls.) We cut him down, laid him out and ran our hands over the steaming corpse. As we rubbed, his charred, crispy skin slid off his body, leaving the still-hot under layer of skin for us to caress and kiss. That night, Tobias made us some mighty tasty treats. Dark meat or white meat, makes no difference. It’s all delicious!
So, yeah. Lothar gives us a great time, every time. Tobias prepares scrumptious feasts. And after dinner we always sit down to watch a video of our previous entertainment. Tonight, we watched our dart game. The camera catches us walking through the woods, laughing and talking. Five beautiful men, naked but for heavy boots. We walk into an opening and our faces light up with surprise, and joy. Another camera, shot from behind us, reveals five young men hanging from a long steel bar. All naked. One by his wrists, facing us. One by his feet, his back to us. One by hands and feet, his butt hole staring at us. Another by his feet, but facing us. Another by his feet, balls hanging loose in our face. As we gather around them to feel their warm flesh and smooth bodies, they are crying in fear. Tobias appears in the picture. He goes to a sixth who is tied to a nearby tree, and talks softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to take you out of here. What’s your name? Jeffery? I’m Tobias. You’ll be O.K. with me. I’m going to go and prepare dinner. Would you like to be part of that? Come along, Jeffery. You will inspire my creativity.” With that, Tobias picks him up, tosses him over his shoulder, and walks out of the clearing. Rolf and his camera follow as he walks across the field and back to the main cabin where the kitchen is.
The picture returns to the clearing. Lothar is handing out blow guns and darts. The guns are about 36” and the darts about four inches. We each pick a target and will blow as many darts as we wish into our target. Dieter picks the dude on the end, hanging by his wrists, facing us. He loads a dart, aims for the belly and blows. The dart flies off into the field. We all laugh at him. He tries again, misses again. Third time he completely missed the belly and hit the guy smack in his eye. The dude screeches, loud, high pitched shrieks. His body flails in the air. “Oh, fuck, Dieter, you klutz!” We all harass him because the plan had been to progress slowly with darts to all parts of the bodies, to play for hours before finishing them off. Now we had one of them creating this distracting racket. “Do something, Dieter!” Flustered, Dieter walks up to the screamer, pulls out the dart and plunges it into the other eye several times, and then strangles him. Finally, quiet. Well, sort of, because the other four are screaming in fear. Lothar gives each of them an injection and they begin to quiet down.
For several hours, we blew our darts into the hanging bodies. We worked together, moving from victim to victim. Aiming for belly buttons, or nipples. Butt cheeks and dicks and balls. We had real fun with the one hanging by hands and feet with his butt hole exposed. That hole was fully fucked with dozens of sharp darts. Eventually, when the bodies looked like pin cushions, we moved to the faces. By now, all of us had mastered the technique of the blowgun and our aim was pretty good. Eyes were prime targets, as we tried to place a dart dead center. Extra points if we managed to hit an eye that was wide open. Same with mouths. They all hung open by now, and a dart into the back of the throat was a big winner.
The screen changes to the kitchen. Tobias sets Jeffery on the counter and rolls him onto his belly. Then he quickly pulls a strap over his shoulders, and another over his waist. Wolfgang and Fritz each grab an ankle and pull Jeffery’s leg apart. As Jeffery tries to squirm loose, Tobias picks up a long pointed steel rod and explains to the camera, “Human veal is best when cooked very soon after death. So, I am going to push the rod into his ass, through his body and out his neck, and get him on the spit as quickly as possible. If I do this right, he will still be alive when he begins to roast. He may be unconscious, or not. If still conscious, you have an extra treat when watching this. Now, here we go. Watch as the point enters his pink, puckered hole and moves quickly and easily through his rectum, colon, guts, stomach, lungs, missing the bones and arteries, and…..Oh, this is going well. I think I’ll hit the jackpot!…..through the throat and out his mouth. Perfect! We’ll quickly tie Jeffery’s wrists behind him, and bind his feet to the rod. Now Fritz and Wolfgang will carry him to the roaster and set the rod on the spit holders, and now you see our dinner, still alive…..look at those eyes!.....the most tender of meats, roasting and turning on the spit.” Tobias turns to the camera, smiles and says “Bob Appetit, gentlemen!”
The screen fades to dark and we applaud. We remember that delicious meal. And all the wonderful experiences and memories that our Lord Lothar has bestowed. The magic island of dreams and desires, Lotharland.
The victims were as beautiful as the men in shorts, except they all had dark hair. And their smooth, muscular, white skin was now torn and ripped and bloodied from hurtling down the slope. One had a broken arm.
The moment the bodies began to slide off the truck, the five blondes below let out a loud whoop of joy and ran forward. They pounced on the groaning men, ready to let loose an unrestrained lust. A man drove up on a small scooter. “Whoa! Take your time, boys. We have three hours until lunch.” The five turned, laughed, and waved. Then they turned back to the objects of their desire. Each blonde hunk picked out a dark-haired hunk and settled in to kill him in a most hideous manner. And the whole bloody episode was recorded by a talented video crew. Rolf, Gerhardt, and Hans were experts with their cameras, and within hours, could put together a beautiful video.
The man on the scooter was Lothar. He is 33 and made billions in tech. He then purchased a remote island in the Pacific and set about to create his own paradise. Lothar is even more beautiful than the others: Dirk, Horst, Dieter, Matthias, and me, I’m Gunther. We all share with Lothar a love of masculine beauty, masculine perfection…and its bloody destruction. We worship male beauty. We eat and drink male beauty, its flesh and its blood. Lothar lives on the island full time with a small group of like-minded employees. We five are flown in several times a year. Lothar chose each of us, employees and guests, for our beauty and our mutual lust for beautiful men. Despite our relative youth, we also are independently wealthy. We jokingly refer to ourselves as the loyal Vassals of Lord Lothar.
Each time we visit, Lothar plans various events, like today’s garbage dump on the hill. After three hours, all five victims are dead, their bodies hideously mutilated. We five were covered with blood. Our game is always to keep our victims alive for as long as possible so we can enjoy their terror and their pain. And now, we are exhausted but sated. As always, Matthias wear his necklace. His final act of desecration is to slice open his man’s belly and pull out his intestines, which he wraps around his neck and wears for the remainder of our stay. Dieter and Horst try to pull it off his neck with their teeth but mostly in fun and Matthias usually manages to keep his necklace. Dirk likes to save testicles and has several jars of formaldehyde in his cabin filled with them. Me, I prefer to eat them, so Dirk and I are often competing for trophies. It’s all in good fun. Mostly, though, I like dicks. Long, fat chewy dicks. All of us are fond of each other and, after a session like today, we love to kiss and lick the blood off each other.
Lothar has had some ingenious themes, like Autopsy Day. He brought in a pathologist to demonstrate dissection. He started with six young men strapped to rough wooden tables in an open field. He explained that he would have to kill one of them so he could demonstrate without messy blood. We voted and gave him the least sexy of the six. A mallet to his Adams apple killed him quickly, and the doctor began his demonstration. We gathered round closely and watched as he cut and sliced the warm body. We were encouraged to reach in and touch anything. With raging hard-ons, we did just that. In time, all the victim’s organs were laid out beside him: brain, eyeballs, stomach, liver, lungs, kidneys, intestines, testicles, penis, everything. All the extremities had been sliced open. Biceps, thighs, calves, buttocks…all sliced so deeply we could slide your hands inside. There was also a large bucket of blood that he had drained from the corpse.
While all this was going on, the other five men were shrieking in panic, straining frantically at their bonds, screaming obscenities, begging for mercy, and crying. That’s the best part for me: watching a big, muscular, beautiful, butch, truly masculine man reduced to sobbing.
We were each given a set of dissection instruments and told to stand by one of the other victims. We were warned to work slowly and deliberately, and to try to keep our man alive for as long as possible. Of course, he would inevitably bleed to death, but we should enjoy ourselves for as long as we chose. And we did.
Gladiator Combat. We had four huge, rock-solid muscle dudes. All four chained to trees, naked except for an ankle bracelet. We sat in a circle on the ground as two of them were brought out before us. They were told, plain and simple, that they must fight to the death. Only one could survive. And if they didn’t go all out, the ankle bracelet would send a heavy electrical charge into their body. The two grappled halfheartedly, getting the feel of each other. Lothar shouted to pick up the pace and pushed a button that sent an electric shock through their bodies. Both men let out roars of pain and stumbled to their knees. It worked. They got up and began to fight in earnest, as if their life depended on it, which was true. So fucking hot! Two naked giants thrashing in the dirt. Shouts and grunts. Fists pounding hard muscle or soft tissue. Screams of pain. Teeth smashed. Noses flattened. Testicles crushed. Broken teeth tearing at flesh. An eye gouged out and hanging loose. Then a winner, as one finally strangled the other.
The victor lay immobile and exhausted on top of his motionless opponent. We dragged him off and chained him to another tree to watch the next bout. The other two muscle men were brought into the circle and ordered to begin. They had witnessed the first combat, knew what was at stake, and began immediately. This was wilder and more vicious that the first. Sexier, too. One clamped his teeth down on the other’s cock, breaking skin and trying desperately to rip the rod off. But, to no avail, as the other managed to crack the guy’s rib. In pain, his teeth let loose of the cock as a fist smashed into his nose. His mouth opened to scream and suddenly his opponent shoved his hand into his mouth and down his throat. Unable to breathe through his mouth or his broken nose, he slowly, painfully succumbed and died of asphyxiation
Overnight, the two winners were chained within inches of each other, each listening to the other’s breath, smelling the other’s fear of what lay ahead. They got no sleep. I didn’t either as my mind replayed what I had seen. Watching two naked men tear each other apart was almost as great a sexual thrill as killing them myself. In the morning, the two winners stood in the circle. They were already battered from the previous day. One’s dick was severely torn; the other with an eye hanging loose from its socket. The fight began. They battled frantically, viciously, heroically, but in time it was over. Another battered corpse, and another exhausted champion. We examined the winner as he lay panting on the ground. Most of his teeth knocked out. One eye socket empty and the other eye swollen shut. Nose broken. Skin torn from teeth marks. We carried the limp and bloody victor to a picnic table and tied him to it, face down. He offered no resistance.
Suddenly Tobias appeared. Tobias is Lothar’s expert chef. Quite calmly, as if he hadn’t even watched the battle, he said, “Today, I will demonstrate fondue. This was very popular with your great-grandparents, back in the 1930’s. In a small pot, they put melted cheese, chocolate, oil, or broth, and kept it very hot with a flame. Then, using long sharp forks, pieces of meat were dipped into the hot liquid to cook. When cooked, you pull the meat out and eat it. So delicious and great fun for a group of men having beers together. But today I will provide a variation to suit our particular tastes.”
He went over to the winning gladiator, pulled his head back, and cut his throat. Blood gurgled out of his throat and drained down into a bucket. Even as the blood flowed out of the throat, Tobias ladled some into a fondue pot and set it over a low flame to heat. “While we wait for the liquid to heat, let’s munch on some cold cuts.” The gladiator was still twitching in his death throes as Tobias lifted his feet and expertly sliced off thin wafers of his sole meat. Then the cut off the toes and fingers. These were passed among us and we munched and drank beer from our steins as we waited for the blood to heat to a proper temperature. Meantime, Tobias was slicing butt and thigh meat into small pieces. He cut long thin inch-wide strips of skin off the man’s back, and rolled them around pieces of meat. In no time, he had prepared a large charcuterie platter piled high with small pieces of raw gladiator meat. He took a long sharp fork, speared a piece, and set it in the pot. The sweet aroma of simmering blood had all of us aroused. After a few minutes, Tobias removed the fork, put the cooked meat into his mouth, bit down, smiled, and let out a sigh of satisfaction. “Perfekto! Dig in, boys. Eat as much as you like. There’s plenty more meat where this came from.”
Everybody loved the Nigger Hunt. Lothar brought six black men and stood them in front of us, while two of his men held guns on them. One was fully clothed, in rags. Two wore ragged pants. The others were naked. All were barefoot, and each wore some type of iron fetter, just as American slaves often did before the Civil War. A neck collar with spikes. Ankle shackles. Handcuffs. Ball and chain. All designed to slow down a runaway slave. The men were trembling with fear as we surrounded them, touching their skin, rubbing their nipples, looking into their mouths, squeezing their cocks, fondling their balls, caressing their firm young butts, probing their assholes, just as a slave trader would have. Lothar explained what was happening. “You darkies pretend to be escaped slaves. You will run from here and hide on the island. We will try to hunt you down. If we catch you, you will die. But any of you who can evade us for three days, will be sent home. And don’t worry, we don’t have dogs. It’s just us pure whites hunting down you nigger scum. Now get out of here! We’re going to have lunch and then come to get you. Scat!” As they ran or hobbled off into the woods, we hooted and laughed at them.
It was fun, hunting down these guys. And easy, too. Lothar had attached tracking devices to their ankles, so we just followed the GPS. Maybe it was cheating, but we weren’t in it for the exercise. We were in it for the blood. And for the schlanges. All of us perked up when we felt their dicks. It’s true what they say. Niggers have big dicks. Humongous dicks! I was drooling with anticipation!
The first catch was easy. Dude was hiding in some bushes. Pulled him out, tied him to a tree, and whipped him. Didn’t want him to die right away. We wanted his screams to be heard all over the island, by the other escaped slaves. Put real fear in them. After half an hour his back was totally shredded and he was no longer screaming. Just soft whimpering. We retied him and whipped his front side. He died. I cut off his big black dick and nuts, and put them it in my backpack. Matthias sliced his belly and extracted a new necklace.
The others were also easy to catch. We hung one by the neck. Another we hung by his wrists and then skinned him alive. Hung one by his feet and then lowered his wooly head into a fire. Found one up a tree. Wolfgang, a helper, had a bow and arrow and nailed him in the thigh, which caused him to fall out of the tree. We pretended we were dogs and bit and chewed him to death, howling with delight. That was fun! The last dude we hung from a tree by his wrists. Horst made a torch, lit it, and held the fire to his balls. Oh, did he dance, like a puppet on a string. Then we built a big fire under him and burned him to a crisp. (But not before I removed his cock and balls.) We cut him down, laid him out and ran our hands over the steaming corpse. As we rubbed, his charred, crispy skin slid off his body, leaving the still-hot under layer of skin for us to caress and kiss. That night, Tobias made us some mighty tasty treats. Dark meat or white meat, makes no difference. It’s all delicious!
So, yeah. Lothar gives us a great time, every time. Tobias prepares scrumptious feasts. And after dinner we always sit down to watch a video of our previous entertainment. Tonight, we watched our dart game. The camera catches us walking through the woods, laughing and talking. Five beautiful men, naked but for heavy boots. We walk into an opening and our faces light up with surprise, and joy. Another camera, shot from behind us, reveals five young men hanging from a long steel bar. All naked. One by his wrists, facing us. One by his feet, his back to us. One by hands and feet, his butt hole staring at us. Another by his feet, but facing us. Another by his feet, balls hanging loose in our face. As we gather around them to feel their warm flesh and smooth bodies, they are crying in fear. Tobias appears in the picture. He goes to a sixth who is tied to a nearby tree, and talks softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to take you out of here. What’s your name? Jeffery? I’m Tobias. You’ll be O.K. with me. I’m going to go and prepare dinner. Would you like to be part of that? Come along, Jeffery. You will inspire my creativity.” With that, Tobias picks him up, tosses him over his shoulder, and walks out of the clearing. Rolf and his camera follow as he walks across the field and back to the main cabin where the kitchen is.
The picture returns to the clearing. Lothar is handing out blow guns and darts. The guns are about 36” and the darts about four inches. We each pick a target and will blow as many darts as we wish into our target. Dieter picks the dude on the end, hanging by his wrists, facing us. He loads a dart, aims for the belly and blows. The dart flies off into the field. We all laugh at him. He tries again, misses again. Third time he completely missed the belly and hit the guy smack in his eye. The dude screeches, loud, high pitched shrieks. His body flails in the air. “Oh, fuck, Dieter, you klutz!” We all harass him because the plan had been to progress slowly with darts to all parts of the bodies, to play for hours before finishing them off. Now we had one of them creating this distracting racket. “Do something, Dieter!” Flustered, Dieter walks up to the screamer, pulls out the dart and plunges it into the other eye several times, and then strangles him. Finally, quiet. Well, sort of, because the other four are screaming in fear. Lothar gives each of them an injection and they begin to quiet down.
For several hours, we blew our darts into the hanging bodies. We worked together, moving from victim to victim. Aiming for belly buttons, or nipples. Butt cheeks and dicks and balls. We had real fun with the one hanging by hands and feet with his butt hole exposed. That hole was fully fucked with dozens of sharp darts. Eventually, when the bodies looked like pin cushions, we moved to the faces. By now, all of us had mastered the technique of the blowgun and our aim was pretty good. Eyes were prime targets, as we tried to place a dart dead center. Extra points if we managed to hit an eye that was wide open. Same with mouths. They all hung open by now, and a dart into the back of the throat was a big winner.
The screen changes to the kitchen. Tobias sets Jeffery on the counter and rolls him onto his belly. Then he quickly pulls a strap over his shoulders, and another over his waist. Wolfgang and Fritz each grab an ankle and pull Jeffery’s leg apart. As Jeffery tries to squirm loose, Tobias picks up a long pointed steel rod and explains to the camera, “Human veal is best when cooked very soon after death. So, I am going to push the rod into his ass, through his body and out his neck, and get him on the spit as quickly as possible. If I do this right, he will still be alive when he begins to roast. He may be unconscious, or not. If still conscious, you have an extra treat when watching this. Now, here we go. Watch as the point enters his pink, puckered hole and moves quickly and easily through his rectum, colon, guts, stomach, lungs, missing the bones and arteries, and…..Oh, this is going well. I think I’ll hit the jackpot!…..through the throat and out his mouth. Perfect! We’ll quickly tie Jeffery’s wrists behind him, and bind his feet to the rod. Now Fritz and Wolfgang will carry him to the roaster and set the rod on the spit holders, and now you see our dinner, still alive…..look at those eyes!.....the most tender of meats, roasting and turning on the spit.” Tobias turns to the camera, smiles and says “Bob Appetit, gentlemen!”
The screen fades to dark and we applaud. We remember that delicious meal. And all the wonderful experiences and memories that our Lord Lothar has bestowed. The magic island of dreams and desires, Lotharland.
