A young adventurer was travelling through the countryside. Only his lower half was clothed, wearing leather boots and pants with a prominent belt buckle. His upper half was completely exposed, showing off his muscles and smooth, hairless skin, barring a scabbard that contained his large broadsword on his back and two grey bracelets around his wrists. He had the look of a boy who had barely reached manhood, yet he towered over most grown men. He had golden hair that reached his shoulders, full pouted lips and blue eyes that sparkled like the sea. The young man had a visible eight pack, and large pecs. He had been training to be a hero all his life, and once he was fully grown he set off for adventure. And what adventures they were, fighting thugs and monsters, warlords and sorcerers in his young life.
When he approached the woods, a group of bandits emerged.
“We’re gonna kill you,” one threatened, “And take all of your belongings.”
The adventurer smiled.
“Not a chance,” He told them. He drew his sword, and prepared to fight. At first he did well, wounding all but one, but eventually they overpowered him. One of them thrust his sword through the boy’s stomach.
“UGH!”
He clutched his destroyed abs, dropping his sword, falling to his knees. He swayed to and fro, knowing that this was it. In his village it was the custom that everything that belong to the slain would belong to the slayer, including the body. And so, mustering all of his remaining strength, the young adventurer looked up at his slayers.
“Do whatever you want with me....” He told them, “I am yours…”
And he fell forwards into the dirt, the last thing he remembered feeling his ripped body pressing into the soil.
The head bandit looked down at their fallen prey. He lodged his boot under his body and flipped him on his back. The bandits laughed.
“Well, he didn’t put much of a fight.”
He place his boot on the young man’s chest, digging it in his bouncy pecs.
“Let’s see what he’s got.”
They searched his body, taking the belongings and money. Finally they stripped him, leaving only a loincloth on.
“Well, let’s dump him in a ditch,” one of them said.
“Aw, do we have to get rid of him right now?” one of the bandits protested, bending down, rubbing the dead adventurer’s chest, “He’s so handsome.”
"Alright we can take him," the leader agreed, "But he's your responsibility!"
Picking up the dead adventurer, the bandit carried him over his shoulder, his arms swinging in their wake. When they reached the camp, he slung the body to the ground. The bandit caressed and kissed the body, his pecs, felt his abs. He took particular attention to his still hard nipples, touching them, scratching them, pinching them, licking them, sucking them, kissing them, and stroking the soft areolas.
"It's such a shame we had to kill you," he told the lifeless body.
He also grabbed his long, hard second sword and squeezed his tight in his hand, shaking it, making it cum, sucking it. The bandit then smeared it all over the dead adventurer’s body. Once he was done, the others helped him carry it and tossed it into a ditch, where it rolled and settled.
A wolf was soon attracted to the scent of blood. It found the body of the dead adventurer, sniffing his pec before devouring it, then the other pec, then the abs, then the dick, and the muscles, before soon the adventurer was nothing but a skeleton.
When he approached the woods, a group of bandits emerged.
“We’re gonna kill you,” one threatened, “And take all of your belongings.”
The adventurer smiled.
“Not a chance,” He told them. He drew his sword, and prepared to fight. At first he did well, wounding all but one, but eventually they overpowered him. One of them thrust his sword through the boy’s stomach.
“UGH!”
He clutched his destroyed abs, dropping his sword, falling to his knees. He swayed to and fro, knowing that this was it. In his village it was the custom that everything that belong to the slain would belong to the slayer, including the body. And so, mustering all of his remaining strength, the young adventurer looked up at his slayers.
“Do whatever you want with me....” He told them, “I am yours…”
And he fell forwards into the dirt, the last thing he remembered feeling his ripped body pressing into the soil.
The head bandit looked down at their fallen prey. He lodged his boot under his body and flipped him on his back. The bandits laughed.
“Well, he didn’t put much of a fight.”
He place his boot on the young man’s chest, digging it in his bouncy pecs.
“Let’s see what he’s got.”
They searched his body, taking the belongings and money. Finally they stripped him, leaving only a loincloth on.
“Well, let’s dump him in a ditch,” one of them said.
“Aw, do we have to get rid of him right now?” one of the bandits protested, bending down, rubbing the dead adventurer’s chest, “He’s so handsome.”
"Alright we can take him," the leader agreed, "But he's your responsibility!"
Picking up the dead adventurer, the bandit carried him over his shoulder, his arms swinging in their wake. When they reached the camp, he slung the body to the ground. The bandit caressed and kissed the body, his pecs, felt his abs. He took particular attention to his still hard nipples, touching them, scratching them, pinching them, licking them, sucking them, kissing them, and stroking the soft areolas.
"It's such a shame we had to kill you," he told the lifeless body.
He also grabbed his long, hard second sword and squeezed his tight in his hand, shaking it, making it cum, sucking it. The bandit then smeared it all over the dead adventurer’s body. Once he was done, the others helped him carry it and tossed it into a ditch, where it rolled and settled.
A wolf was soon attracted to the scent of blood. It found the body of the dead adventurer, sniffing his pec before devouring it, then the other pec, then the abs, then the dick, and the muscles, before soon the adventurer was nothing but a skeleton.
