Political Correction 2020
part 1: Kill-O-Grams

Eighteen-year-old Kevin Carter was a member of WHAM.

WHAM ... an acronym for White Heterosexual Affluent Males ... was an organization formed to protect the constitutional liberties of (according to it's members) the last SANE group of Americans: Rich white straight men. WHAM was intended to be an armed, combat-ready resistant militia designed to ward off the evils of the minorities, gays and women polluting American society.

But in setting themselves up as a kind of exclusive sexist and racist cult, WHAM soon came under fire. And eventually they were hunted like animals ... then captured and sold at auction to one of the groups they routinely oppressed or defamed.

Kevin was glad that, of all the groups he could have been purchased by, he had been sold to women. Just the thought of having been purchased by a bunch of faggots or Niggers caused him to break into a cold sweat. He HAD been captured by Niggers and sold by faggots, however. He was abducted by some Compton black boys ... but these bounty-hunting spades had done so under a contract drafted by the FagBoys of the Boys R Us Slave Shop ... who in turn filled orders from a group of girls from the San Fernando Valley.

Kevin Carter couldn't really blame the Valley Girls for having him captured and then purchasing him. He was handsome and he knew it. His golden brows were finely-formed, arched at their apex; his eyelids were as smooth as silk, his lashes bright and luminescent. His cheekbones were broad, clothed in taut young skin, and even with the slight scar on his face, he was a very beautiful young man. The youth's chest was smooth and as white as the rest of him, with well-defined muscles throughout, and angling down pleasingly to a flat stomach and narrow hips. His cock curled innocently in its nest of light hair, the kind of lush young cock that would doubtless unfurl into throbbing, beating life once it was properly aroused.

Currently he and another former member of WHAM were being transported via limousine to the home of the girls who had purchased them. It was hot inside the back of the limo, the rear heater pouring out warm air as the defroster worked to keep windows clear. Both Kevin and Justin were nude, and despite the heat both were freezing as a result of the drugs they'd been given to keep them pacified and free of all notions of escape. Kevin rubbed their hands together for warmth and glanced over at his fellow captive, Justin Volpe.

His friend Justin looked to be barely eighteen and was so beautiful that Kevin had to periodically look out the window to keep himself from gawking. He had a dark, olive complexion with even darker hair and eyes. Deep black eyelashes, long and sensuous, graced his two slightly almond-shaped pupils. His hair was jet black and a little on the long side, combed beautifully back over his head. His forehead was perfectly clear, his skin beautiful. No facial hair marred the smoothness of the skin. His nose was large, but beautifully shaped. Justin looked so exotically "impure" that his application to be a member of WHAM (who considered Italians to be too impure to join their fraternity) was almost rejected. But Kevin himself had petitioned for the raven-haired youth's inclusion. The two had been friends ever since.

And Kevin remembered how they were both captured that fateful day two months earlier.

They were captured by Yusuf Jackson and Rasheed Hawkins -- leaders of black militia known as Blackjack. It was one of many "special interest" militias that had sprang up in the country within the last two years. Both Yusuf and Hawkins exuded power. They had coal-black skin almost imperial bearings: straight backs, piercing dark eyes, prominent chins. Unapproachable to all non-blacks ... and CERTAINLY untouchable. But still, when it came to hunting WHAM-boys for pay, they would shed their regality and put on the ghetto street-fighter attitudes they had been born with.

And that was the attitude they displayed when they captured an entire battalion of WHAM-boys who were camped out near a lonely unpaved road in the Angeles National Forest.

Yusuf and Hawkins had received their orders from the Boys R Us Slave Shop and took a van with a crew of seven fellow expert Blackjackers in tow. As they approached the opposite side of the road they noticed an RV and some tracks leading from it. They followed these tracks until they found the WhiteBoys sleeping in their little makeshift camp clearing. The Blackjackers ambushed them and killed two who would rather pay the ultimate price than be captured That meant seven left.

Yusuf and Hawkins had each one of their crew members tie one up and take their weapons. When the WHAM-boys had their hands tied behind their backs the Blackjackers used their favorite technique and tied a rope on each of their necks in one long line. Yusuf guarding the prisoners in the front of the line with Hawkins guarding the back. Yusuf and Hawkins placed the other six of their men with three on each side and led the blue-eyed captives back to the van.

On the way there one of WHAM-ers had managed to free himself and tried to run away. He didn't get far with a 0.45 slug from Hawkin's revolver lodged in the back of his skull. When they got to the van Yusuf made them sit in rows and verbally recant the beliefs of their organization. If they didn't recant with enough sincerity he whipped them.

They all arrived at the Boys R Us Slave Center in incredible time. Yusuf and Hawkins brought them to the prison pit and let them have a taste of pain.

Over and over Kevin Carter recalled how he had been personally abducted by the Blackjackers the day when he and his WHAM crew were hiding out in the Angeles National forest. He and the others had settled in for the night, and he was just beginning to drift off to sleep when he heard an unfamiliar sound ....

Suddenly a BlackJacker's cold hand closed over his mouth and nose, clamping down firmly. Kevin couldn't breath and he fought wildly, but the superior weight of the man, plus being pushed into the soft earth, gave him nothing to lever against. His desperate hunger for air panicked him. The pounding of his blood filled his head and finally, blackness swallowed his sight; he went limp with unconsciousness.

He knew nothing more for hours.

And from what Justin had told him, HIS capture that night had taken place only moments after his own.

According to Justin he (while preparing to bed down at the camp) had stopped to check the sleeping area for snakes when suddenly a black hand yanked him backwards. Another went over his mouth, muffling his squeak of alarm. Though his assailant's grip tightened, he twisted free with a strength born of sheer panic.

"It's The Blackjackers ... we're under attack!" he screamed.
Then he stumbled and fell, knocked down by a heavy blow at the base of his skull. He saw Kevin being rendered unconscious by a hand-smothering BlackJacker before a dark haze wiped out his own awareness.

Both WHAMers came to their senses naked in the shower of the Boys R Us Slave Shop. Kevin didn't know how he had gotten there but apparently he had, without even being aware, had managed to scrub himself from head to toes. Beside him was the rest of his surviving WHAM battalion including Justin Volpe ... and all of them seemed just as bewildered as he. Eventually a new boy, also nude, came into the shower area and told all the WHAMers to follow him. This youth, Jerry Ahern, lined up the freshly showered young slaves and marched them into an adjoining room.

That's when they were introduced to the Boys R Us Training and Fitness Room, and shown how to use the equipment and what strict dietary regimen they would be kept under. So Kevin and the others spent most of their time living and sleeping within the confines of the slave shop although they were allowed out (under watchful eyes of the armed Boys R Us "Pink Patrol" security force) for some sun occasionally ... for the sake of naturally maintaining their tans. The training was hard but the WHAM-boys knew that their survival ... should they be sold to owners who had the popular proclivity for gladiatorial combat ... depended on getting in top condition and improving their swordplay.

Gladiatorial competition were to the death, and only the strongest and luckiest fighters survive for long. Training at the slave shop began early each morning and the day was split into two hour sessions of pumping iron, weapons practice and fighting. The first week Kevin was bruised, battered and bloodied from the pounding received in the spurious "mock battles" with wooden weapons. Every muscle in his body ached. He was often even too tired to protest any of the sex forced upon him by the gay owners of the sex shop ... brutal homosexual men who had no qualms about fucking the fair-haired lad even while he was in an exhausted state of unconsciousness.

But after a few weeks he began to improve and was the first to begin training against the larger male gladiators. His first battle was against a huge red-haired slave named Reinhard Eichman ... a battle to which the gay owners of Boys R Us wagered on.

It was a spirited bout, and for a while Kevin seemed as if he could actually hold his own against this seasoned warrior. But eventually the larger gladiator's experience became evident, and the battle came to a sudden and abrupt end when Kevin had both arms raised for a block and Reinhard Eichman's knee drove into his gut. To Kevin it felt for a moment like the knee had actually connected with his spine. A loud roaring seemed to fill his ears while the sun exploded behind his bright blue eyes, sending him into darkness. He was distantly aware of hands gripping his shoulders and gently lowering him to the ground. He curled around the pain in his middle and his last clear thought was that FagBoy Richard (one of the slaver/owners of Boys R Us) was going to kill him for losing to Eichman and costing him money.

Seeing Kevin fall, Reinhard Eichman kneeled down beside his fallen opponent. He watched as the grimace of pain faded from Kevin's face as he slipped into unconsciousness. Eichman was actually gentle as he removed the boys leather jock and held it aloft like a victory trophy. He started to leave Kevin lying where he had fallen but decided to pick the naked lad up and dump him at the feet of Richard Walters ... the FagBoy who had bet money on the fair-haired youth.

Then Richard Walters (after soundly cursing and savagely kicking the senseless boy) half carried Kevin over to the training room's Jacuzzi, leaving the shower running for its warm steam before easing him into the hot water. Sitting behind him to keep his fair head from sliding under the surface and to slowly, Richard gently proceeded to massage his unconscious prize gladiator, beginning at his neck. Eventually, the gay slaver slipped out of the hot tub and got a couple of the soft, beach-sized fluffy towels and laid them on the tile floor next to the Jacuzzi. He moved Kevin face-down onto the towels and straddled his body, continuing his massage in a loving way, using his mouth and tongue as much as his hands.

He proceeded to explore the shells of the fair-haired youth's ears with his tongue and snuffling and licking the heady masculine scent behind his ears ... kissing and nibbling at his neck as he massaged his shoulders and broad back. He then began kissing his way down the unconscious boy's relaxed back to perform an act that was considered taboo by most slavers ... USING the merchandise before putting it on display for sale.

Richard kissed Kevin's ass. He gloried in the act of kissing the unconscious boy's firm globes, licking and tasting him. Feeling the soft, short hairs that lengthened as he probed into his crack. Kissing his virginal anus caused such a strong reaction even though the fair-haired youth was still out cold ... so Richard kissed him there again and again. The boy unconsciously opened to him and the gay slaver became inflamed at his reaction -- kissing and licking and finally probing with his tongue to increase his pleasure. Richard's deeply inserted tongue caused Kevin ... who was beginning to regain consciousness at this point ... to thrash around and moan in pleasure.

When he approached orgasm, the slaver lightly kissed Kevin's swollen anus and continued down his legs. When he got to the fair-haired youth's ankles the slaver rolled him over and bathed his feet with his tongue, licking and sucking Kevin's toes into his mouth -- singly and in groups until the semi-conscious boy's moans drew him upwards across his thighs to nurse like a babe with the young gladiator's testicles in his mouth. He was ardently sucking and tonguing the clashing orbs as they moved inside of their spit slick bag.

Periodically Richard would travel up the hard shaft to plunge it deep down his throat for the sheer joy of knowing he could accept all of Kevin like that ... and for the feeling the hard of the shaft caused inside of him. The gay slaver was licking the fair-haired youth's pubes and pulling at the hairs with his lips when a fully conscious Kevin begged to be sucked off again. Richard softly laughed before taking his fist and soundly beating the boy back into unconsciousness.

Yes, FagBoy Richard had given Kevin a detailed account of everything he had done to him following the moment he'd lost consciousness during his practice battle with Eichman.

And currently, as the limousine sped along towards the home of the Valley Girls who had purchased him and his friend, the drugs they had been given began to make Kevin feel both horny and very sleepy. Justin was already lying on the floor of the limousine now, his body limp and sprawled out. Kevin couldn't help not touching his passed out friend -- his fingers probing Justin Volpe's crotch, feeling the outline of his limp penis and balls. The armed Boys R Us "Pink Patrol" guards (who were along for the ride to make certain that Kevin and Justin fulfilled their obligations to their purchasers) also began feeling the swarthy raven-haired boy up, touching his pecs, and hard flat stomach. Justin moaned once or twice, not realizing his body was being groped and played with by Kevin and their guards.

The drive to the San Fernando Valley was short, but by the time the limo was parked out side the home of the girls who had purchased them, both Kevin Carter and Justin Volpe were wide awake and ready for action.


Buffy Newcastle was blonde, blue-eyed and had medium-large tits. Most of the time she wears a faded pair of jeans and a tee shirt on her 5'10" body. Her sister Felicity was also a very sexy young lady and loves to flaunt her stuff as much as her younger sibling. She is a stunning brunette with eyes that were deep blue. Her lips were full and she used dark red lipstick on them. She was 5'6" and weighed 125 lbs. Also like her sister she had long sexy legs and a perfectly shaped ass.

Today was Buffy's eighteenth birthday, and her older sister had bought her a slave at Boys R Us to "entertain" her and her girlfriends at a surprise party. The FagBoys at Boys R Us were old pros at the slaving game, and told the purchased male (a six-foot tall redhead with rippling muscles and an eight-inch cock) that if he wanted to avoid risking life and limb as a gladiatorial Kill-O-Gram slave, performing sexual favors at things like birthday parties was the way to do it. And the boy readily agreed.

Felicity, Buffy's sister, had been personally taught by the Boys R Us slavers themselves the finer points of haggling and making deals for a choice piece of male meat.

To the FagBoy slavers, selling boys was much like selling cars, and that every gal who bought from them should start high and be willing to bargain. After a few lessons and increase in personal horniness, Felicity finally agreed to try out her skills. She'd told slaver Richard Walters that she'd be willing to pay three thousand dollars ... and to her surprise, there was no bargaining! The slaver agreed to that immediately.

The other gals attending the party chipped in for the birthday girl, and then all of them took their turns with the ginger-haired boy. Even Buffy and Felicity's mother had debated on bedding the muscular lad, but she didn't. They went to a separate room to get it on and all the gals behaved like savage animals, even though a few of the "shy girls" only stopped at the opened door to WATCH the action.

It was fun and, after the brutally beaten and fuck-weary boy had been taken back to the slave shop by members of the Boys R Us Pink Patrol, Buffy told herself that she would never do something like that again ... but she had known even then that she would.

And she was about to.

Both she and her sister were currently awaiting the arrival of TWO boys they'd purchased. And this time these slaves wouldn't be used as mere sex toys. No, this time around the sisters had mutually opted for a full gladiatorial Kill-O-Gram to celebrate premiere of Felicity's new clothing line at the mall.

The Newcastle sisters recalled purchasing their two slaves at Boys R Us days earlier. Entering the slave shop, Buffy and Felicity looked over every boy up for auction, and were tempted to use their own judgement in selecting suitable gladiators rather than relying on the star-rating system that Boys R Us employed.

Then compromised by coming up with their own system.

Ratings was given to each gladiator by a panel consisting of each of the Valley Girls and two customers browsing around the slave shop who were selected at random. Each of the gladiatorial candidates was examined in full, his body explored, his feelings about sex and his fighting prowess analyzed. The panel would then list the boys according to their beauty and compile a detailed report on them. These reports were then used as an additional basis for boy selection in Buffy and Felicity's personal draft.

The greatest excitement came when a gladiator received a four-star rating both by Boys R Us' standards and the Newcastle sister's own. This was as close to perfection as a boy could be. Very few slaves received four stars, however, and there was only one within the entire crop being auctioned off that day: Kevin Carter, aged eighteen. That didn't surprise the FagBoy slavers, of course, for Kevin's adorable charm and magnificent body had stolen their hearts and loins right from the beginning. Buffy had hoped that swarthy, dark-haired Justin Volpe might pull down four stars as well, but his three-and-a-half stars was nothing to be embarrassed by ... especially since he was denoted half a star less than Kevin merely because he wasn't classically Aryan.

Buffy and Felicity sauntered over to where both boys (now completely dressed) were strapped to a long examination table as they were being prepped for surgery.

Buffy and Felicity undid the straps around Kevin and Justin's wrists and ankles then slaver Richard Walters approached the top end of the table and leant over the terrified youths and told then to lie on their backs. The young men obeyed and Richard grasped either side of the tank-tops the boys wear wearing and slowly pulled them up over their bodies. As the shirts were raised they started to reveal the young men's muscular forms, both of the Newcastle sisters gasped.

"Oh m'god! They're both like so choice!" squeaked Buffy.
Richard Walters continued to pull the shirts up and now he was pulling it over Kevin and Justin's frightened looking faces. The boys had automatically stretched their arms out towards the corners of the table. As Richard pulled on the tank tops the boy's arms were pulled toward each other until both lay shirtless. The FagBoy slaver then tossed the tank tops into a corner of the shop as he and the two Valley Girl sisters stood looking down at the bare-chested young men.
"Like revoke my slave-purchasing license, okay? Look at those lovely gorgeous nipples!" Felicity said gleefully. "I want to get my teeth on them so bad, it's like not even funny!"

"And their belly buttons!" Buffy chimed in, "They're like so totally cute!"

Throughout the stripping of their shirts and the off-color remarks of their abductors and female purchasers, both Kevin and Justin had remained silent and unmoving. They had been picked out, examined and were about to be purchased. Their was nothing left for either of them to say or do besides await further instructions.

Now Buffy and Felicity anxiously await the arrival of the two boy's they'd purchased that day ... anxiously awaited the battle to the death they would engage in against the gladiator's purchased by their girlfriends.


Eventually Kevin and Justin ... both conscious now ... arrived at the home of their Valley Girl purchasers.

Before both gladiators were ushered inside, one the Pink Patrolmen guarding them prepared a drug that would keep both youths totally compliant to the will of their female purchasers ... a drug to be administered via a patented device created by a member of the Boys R Us staff. It was shaped somewhat like a clamp, but with needle-sharp points. The Pink Patrolman pushed a tiny plastic vial into a slot of the device, then slid the instrument behind Kevin Carter's ear. The Patrolman squeezed a trigger and the device clamped down, whirred, and released. A trickle of blood trailed down to the fair-haired youth's neck, but the patrolman wiped it away and it stopped. He loaded another vial and repeated the procedure with Justin Volpe. There was a little blood this time as well, and the patrolman put the device away before he and another armed guard ushered the two drugged gladiators towards the opulent domicile.

The house was decorated when the two youths sauntered in, and the Valley Girl's house staff had the food ready and waiting. Everyone else had been there for a while, and the punch had everyone in a gay, partying mood, already.

There were up to a dozen other gladiators already sauntering about, and at least eight of them were four-star slaves. Several others were as hot as they could be without actually being four-stars ... and absolutely NONE of them were below three stars. They all had broad shoulders, large muscular pecs with large, pink nipples that seemed unnaturally hard at every moment. Their stomachs were flat with defined abs and they had no hair on the upper parts of their bodies. Their nice round asses, and long muscular legs completed them.

Each of these perfect youths began to wonder if they should just begin battling each other.

Then Buffy started the stereo and ordered that all the gladiators should dance and display themselves before all the female partiers. And the young men, clad in nothing but leather jocks, immediately picked the beat up as they danced down the hall behind some of the Valley Girls' backs. The female partiers all applauded as the gladiators danced around the room and up to Felicity. Buffy had yelled to her sister to not turn around -- so she had no idea what was going on until she felt Kevin rub up against the chair and run his fingers through her hair.

The gladiators all danced sensuously ... humping to the beat as Felicity taped the whole thing on her camcorder. A few voices yelled out to,

"Take it off!"

and the older Valley girl could see that Buffy was getting turned on. Of course, the whole room was charged up and feeling turned on by this time! The young men eventually did "take it off" ... removed the skimpy leather jockstraps that had barely concealed their privates. To the ogling Valley Girls it was fantastic seeing the young men bared completely. These female partiers cheered them loudly and encouraged them to perform all manner of lewd poses and so on.

The merriment only ended when Buffy shut off the stereo and ordered all of the gladiators to put their jocks back on and march out to the Battle Dome located behind the house.


The rainy weather outside of the house cooled the gladiator's skin . . . and it cleansed their thoughts of the brutal slaughter that was about to take place. They sauntered in a single line. Justin Volpe lead the way ... Kevin Carter was behind us. Reinhard Eichman (purchased by Felicity's best friend Hillary Hagen) was located somewhere near the center of the line. Kevin was entranced as the raindrops danced on Eichman's muscular shoulders and rolled down his back. The shimmering water on his body exaggerated the sharp definition of his wide torso as the rainwater flowed through every cut and crease of his musculature.

The bare earth turned to mud under the gladiator's bare feet, but still they pushed forward into position. Eventually they came upon a great structure. It was a magnificent site, the marble Battle Dome was. A hundred feet long and a hundred feet wide. The Valley Girls filled in the marble bleachers aligning the walls of this opulent arena while their gladiators flexed their muscular bodies and prepared for battle.

Kevin glanced at Justin and Reinhard and then at the blonde boy called Matthew Goering (perfect abs...six evenly spaced mounds of muscle perched above his navel). All three had instinctively picked up one of the metal swords which were scattered about the floor of the arena. Another ten gladiators ... also armed now ... were in attendance whom the fair-haired warrior didn't recognize. Rainwater rolled off their shimmering bodies -- a small puddle formed beneath each one.

Also in attendance were Yusuf Jackson and Rasheed Hawkins ... the two kidnaping members of "Blackjack" who were responsible for abducting at least a quarter of all the gladiators sent on "Kill-O-Gram" missions. The two had been given a special invitation to witness the fruits of their labor ... and both were more than willing to comply with the requisition to attend.

After a few moments Buffy snapped her fingers in an elegant fashion, indicating that the battle was to begin.

Eichman and Matthew immediately ran towards the gladiators positioned behind their familiar collective while Justin and Kevin advanced on the nearly naked muscle-bound gladiators who were advancing directly in front. The clang of steel against steel soon filled the once silent dome.

The fair-haired warrior drew his sword and ran towards the oncoming horde. He dove at the feet of four of the gladiators, sweeping their legs from under them. They all crashed to the floor. Kevin then quickly sprang to his feet -- and the gladiator closest to him was on his knees fumbling for the sword that was knocked from his hand. The fair-haired youth reached down and, with his left hand, grabbed the leather harness where it crossed just under his opponent's chest. He lifted him to his feet and threw him against the wall of the dome. Kevin's antagonist's lower back hit a stone protuberance ... his upper body arched backwards ... his arms stretched out.

The leather straps of the harness some of the gladiators wore fit tightly under their large pectoral muscles and wrapped around the thick flat muscles of their backs. It was a mistake, many of the warriors quickly realized, to have adorned themselves with this bit of decorative paraphernalia ... for it was just another article for their adversaries to latch onto.

Clutching his opponent's harness with his fist, Kevin pulled back his right arm and drove his sword through the left side of the boy's muscular belly.

His scream reverberated throughout the Battle Dome. Kevin's blade pierced the top abdominal muscle on the left side of his stomach, just below his rib. The fair-haired warrior ripped his sword out of him ... blood began to trickle from the cut in his abdomen. Kevin grabbed his shoulder with his left hand and ran his sword through the middle of his gut. The blade sliced into him between the two columns of abdominal muscles, four inches above his navel. He tensed his body as the fair-haired youth pushed his sword all the way through his thick torso.
Kevin's opponents scream joined the chorus of death-cries that filled the Battle Dome, as one by one, gladiators felt the cold steel cut into their muscular bodies. The fair-haired youth's dying adversary pitched forward and, with both hands, grabbed the blade sticking deep in his gut. Kevin seized his sword and yanked it free. His adversary gladiator moaned and fell to the floor. Blood poured like a river through his fingers as he vainly attempted to use his hand s to cover the gaping in his gut.

As he turned to his partner Hawkins as they sat in the stone bleachers that circled the arena, Yusuf effused excitedly,

"Daaaaaaaaamn, did you see that shit??"
The two Blackjackers were as enthralled by the bloody gladiatorial battle as any of the white Valley Girls watching.
"Do I look blind, Nigga? Of course I saw that!" replied Hawkins. "Shiiiiit, that blond mutha fucka don't play ... what's his name anyway?"
Yusuf consulted the program he and all of the spectators were given before entering the Battle Dome.
"Says here that his name is Kevin Carter. Hey ... that's the kid we kidnaped over at the Angeles National Forest!"

"Yeah? Well since he's one of our catches, I'm gon' root him on ... GO KEV! GO KEV! "

And while the BlackJacker cheered, the three other gladiators that Kevin had knocked to the floor had scrambled to their feet ... and all seemed intent upon attacked simultaneously. The fair-haired warrior jumped up onto a blood-stained stone marble platform that, apparently, acted as some sort of sacrificial altar. The four gladiators surrounded him -- their back muscles rippled as they swiped at the boy's legs with their swords. Kevin avoided their sweeping blades with some well timed, agile leaps, but one adroit gladiator managed to inflict a laceration on his left leg. The fair-haired warrior felt some pain, and blood trickled down his ankle, coating the altar with even more red wetness.

Kevin kicked the gladiator in the jaw and he fell back to the floor. Another well placed kick dazed the gladiator to his right. The third warrior forward -- his blade actually sparked as it struck the stone platform the fair-haired youth was standing upon. Kevin placed his foot on his left shoulder and pushed him back as hard as he could. The gladiator slammed into the stone column behind him. The force of the impact stretched his chiseled body across the column, his huge arms flung out to his sides. The fair-haired warrior jumped off the platform and pulled back his sword as the gladiator he'd kicked ran towards him. Kevin stopped two feet in front of him and wedged his blade into his gut.

The gladiator wailed -- his abdominal muscles tensed as Kev's sword slid into his upper belly just under the sternum. The fair-haired warrior held him in place against the stone colonnade with his left hand flat on his right pec. His opponent's muscle flexed hard under the palm of his hand, the nipple showing between his fingers. Kevin yanked his sword free and quickly stabbed his adversary once again. The blade cut into his stomach just below the first wound. The gladiator grunted as the fair-haired warrior's sword sliced half-way through his muscular torso. He leaned forward, and Kevin held his blade in him. Then, with one powerful thrust, the fair-haired warrior pushed his sword all the way through his abdomen -- the tip of the blade pierced the skin of his back causing blood to splatter the column behind him. His adversary screamed and fell forward.

Kevin felt like screaming himself as the badly wounded gladiator put both hands on his shoulders -- digging his into the youth's fair skin as Kev ripped the blade out of his belly. Streams of blood mixed with sweat and rolled down his tightly flexed stomach and down to his jock. With his hand still on his opponent's chest the fair-haired warrior forced his adversary back against the column again. The two wounds in his gut opened a bit wider as his upper body was sprawled against the stone colonnade -- blood flowed more freely. Kevin drew back his arm and drove his sword into him again. The gladiator's eyes widened as the blade cut into his muscular chest just under his left nipple. The fair-haired warrior pulled his sword out of his adversary's body and, drawing his last few breaths, he slid down the column -- subsequently leaving a crimson streak to stained the column behind him.


Wincing at the savagery of the battle, Rasheed Hawkins ... known in the African-American community as the "Bellicose Brother" and a co-founder of the Blackjack slave-abduction squad ... thought back to the days when he and his partner Yusuf Jackson used to kidnap gladiators to be sold as slaves all by themselves. These were the days before they drafted others into their organization for form the slave-abducting "Blackjackers".

They decided that their first slave was going to be Reinhard Eichman, a muscular youth who had been the star running-back of his senior varsity football team. Capturing such a boy would both establish Blackjack a reputable slave-abducting organization ... and fetch Yusuf and Hawkins a hefty price with one of the Valley Girl cliques who were looking for handsome white young studs to press into bondage.

So than a week after making their decision, Yusuf and Hawkins were "staking out" the gym that Reinhard Eichman worked out in after school. Sitting in the car, Yusuf talked of how they alone would PERSONALLY capture this handsome eighteen-year-old red-haired stud and sell him into slavery to some wealthy Valley Girls or FagBoys. Eichman was quite a specimen--six foot four, two hundred and twenty pounds, short red-hair hair and ice blue eyes ... with a beautiful body and a nice seven inch cock.

As Rasheed Hawking and Yusuf Jackson talked, Eichman finished his work-out and closed up the gym,

"Get ready to start the car when I get Reinhard." Yusuf ordered.
He got out of the car with surprising quickness for a man of his hugely muscular size. One hand held a rag, the other a small bottle of chloroform. As Reinhard Eichman approached his car, Yusuf grabbed him from behind, roughly placing the dampened rag over the brawny redhead's nose and mouth. Eichman struggled to free himself from Yusuf's massive arms, but the muscular militant had almost thirty pounds on the brawny redhead. Reinhard Eichman soon went limp in his arms.

Unbeknownst to the two co-founders of Blackjack, the kidnaping was being witnessed. And it was being witnessed by Reinhard Eichman's best friend, Matthew Goering, who was hiding in the obscuring shadows in front of the gym's admissions office. He truly wanted to aid his friend, but was clearly aware that if brawny Eichman could be taken down so easily, he wouldn't stand a chance. So he decided to simply watch -- and follow his friend's kidnappers to wherever they intended to spirit him away to ....

Meanwhile Yusuf nodded to Hawkins and the bellicose brother started the car and drove over to where they were. Yusuf stuffed Eichman's limp muscular body into the back seat and then climbed in behind him. Rasheed Hawkins took off for Blackjack HQ, both horny and exhilarated. Yusuf was grinning from ear to ear. He knew he would only have one opportunity to grab Eichman and it worked perfectly. As he drove, Hawkins spoke to the unconscious brawny redhead,

"Disappointed in you Reinhard ... thought you'd be much more of a challenge."
Meanwhile Yusuf was busy placing their victim's size fourteen feet in his lap. As the car sped off, the muscular militant couldn't resist the sight of the feet so close to his face. He gazed over the unconscious form of brawny redhead sprawled across the backseat -- his body still damp and acrid with sweat because he preferred to shower at home after leaving the gym. His creamy muscular calves were covered to the knees by very thick, sweaty white athletic socks.

Yusuf untied and tugged off one of Reinhard Eichman's sneakers, and caressed the sole of the brawny redhead's sweaty socked foot. The militant smiled, as he thought how unaware and powerless Eichman was against his foot molestation. He raised the athletic unconscious boy's white-socked size fourteen foot to his face and inhaled the sweaty many odor, long and deeply. Then he ran his tongue over the smelly stocking toes, around the ball, and down the shapely arch to the heel.


During the car ride Yusuf eventually stripped the brawny redhead of all his clothing in order to tongue bathe the rest of his unconscious body. By the time they reached their headquarters the muscular youth was bathed in saliva practically from crown to toes.

Rasheed carried the limp body of Eichman downstairs into the HQ's basement. Over the past few weeks, both muscular militants had been preparing the room for their captives' incarceration. Yusuf and Hawkins had even installed a re-reinforced door with several complicated locks. They had boarded up all the basement windows as well.

A massage table in the middle of the room, with a harness and wrist and ankle straps attached to it.

As Hawkins lay Reinhard Eichman face-down on the padded table, he ordered Yusuf to fasten his straps securely and plodded upstairs. Rasheed Hawkins lifted one of the brawny redhead's smooth, muscular arms and secured it to the table. Eichman's tank top had shifted somewhat, concealing his pink nipples and well-defined chest. The co-founders of Blackjack had their captive firmly secured by the time the boy began to show signs of regaining consciousness.

Reinhard Eichman's body was very ripped and his muscles were very hard and seemed to glisten like marble. Upon closer inspection, Hawkins could tell that the youth was naturally smooth. He could see only the faintest stubble on Eichman's body around his pink nipples and navel and also on his forearms. The site of it made the bellicose brother's dick throb. It throbbed to the point where he finally freed it from his pants.

After lowering the table and undoing the straps, Rasheed Hawkins then pointed his massive erection into the brawny redhead's butt and stabbed in deep. The young semi-conscious boy cried out. The bellicose brother held the brawny redhead's body to him with savage hands while he fucked him. The two men were fiercely joined in sexual battle. Reinhard Eichman lost.

The brawny redhead knew when his captor shot his load with a grunt of satisfaction. The brawny redhead piteously moaned with his face into the padding of the table. The forced act had only taken three minutes. When the bellicose brother pulled away, Yusuf ... who had watched the entire rape with amused interest ... saw that his business partner's dick was blood-stained.

And It was the sight of his friend's blood that spurred Matthew Goering ... hidden in the shadows of the Blackjack HQ basement ... into action. Anger had filled the blonde boy, and he sprung from his hiding place and ran towards the two founders of Blackjack with a loud war cry!

Matthew Goering even managed to topple Rasheed Hawkins, but went crashing over as well, unable to break the iron hold the bellicose black man suddenly locked round him. They rolled, fighting for top position, neither quite able to succeed for long. Matthew dragged his pistol from his belt at last, but Hawkins' tight grip on his wrist shifted, intensified, sending an agonizing pain radiating up his arm. The gun slid free, released by nerveless white fingers. Then almost faster than Yusuf ... who was watching in amusement ... could follow, Rasheed Hawkins had hooked a leg around Matthew's hip, rolled the blonde boy flat on his back while sliding on top of him ... then slugged him into dazed surrender. Matthew Goering was no weakling; it took Hawkins three more solid strikes to batter the blonde boy down into unconsciousness.

And almost immediately foot-fetisher Yusuf removed the knocked-out Matthew's Adidas runners and his socks. And immediately he discovered that, of both he and Eichman, his feet had the strongest odor. The black muscled militant could not help but see the small patches of sock-fuzz between the unconscious boy's toes. The smell of Matthew's feet enhanced Yusuf's admiration for the blonde youth with the delicious-looking toes. Yusuf Jackson attacked his feet with the gusto of a madman, inhaling their sneaker-scented fragrance, licking their salty sweat, wedging his tongue between Matt's toes to sample his toe jam, and sucking on each tiny digit.

He stopped molesting the young man's bare feet once his manhood was sufficiently hard. Then ... after spitting onto his throbbing cock ... he lined it up and slid into the unconscious blonde boy. Yusuf thrust roughly, slamming in and pulling it back out, then slamming it in again. He fucked the knocked-out boy even after Matthew awoke and began to moan.

Tears streaked down Matt's face as the muscled militant battered his rectum, stretching his ass out. Yusuf angled each thrust differently, punching different places within the virgin ass. The muscled militant smiled as the blonde's young handsome face turned ugly with pain. Then Matthew Goering passed out again. Yusuf stopped when the boy passed out again, because he thought he might have killed his captive this time. He leaned forward slowly, and let the boy fall onto the floor, his hard cock popping out of the abused hole. Flecks of blood, shit and cum flew onto his stomach as his cock slapped against him. When the knocked out Matthew moaned, his captor realized that he still lived.

This being the case, Rasheed Hawkins decided to take his turn with the blonde youth.

He turned the unconscious boy over, and propped Matthew's knees under him, raising the ass into the air. He watched as the ass-hole clenched of its own accord, smeared with shit and blood. Spitting onto his cock, he lined it up and rammed in. Hawkins thrust roughly, slamming in and pulling it back out, then slamming it in again. He fucked the unconscious blonde boy for a several minutes, until the boy started to moan. He watched the eyes as the Matthew woke up, eyelids fluttering open, revealing his clear blue peepers. Matthew's moans continued as the bellicose brother's huge cock punched at his prostate. The smell of sweat and sex and shit hung in the air. The blonde youth eventually regained enough of his senses to surmise the fact that he was still being fucked. He raised himself off the floor with uncertain arms. The cock punched this magic place in his ass and sent a jolt of energy through his body.

Seeing that his captive was conscious increased Rasheed Hawkins' pleasure -- prompting him to thrust his cock into the blonde youth didn't remember much after that. A combination of ecstasy, agony and utter humiliation filled his body -- filled his very SOUL. Matthew thought he heard his friend Eichman scream but the black stars were dancing in front of his eyes again and the buzzing in his ears was too loud. And then he lost consciousness yet again.


When the blonde youth came to, he was cradled in his friend's arms. Clear, ice blue eyes gazing down upon him with concern,

"I was hoping you'd stay unconscious."

"Thanks a lot," was Matt's sarcastic reply.

He and the red-haired youth were still in the basement of Blackjack HQ. A heavy chain fettered to each of their ankles and bolted to the floor made certain that escape was impossible for either youth.
"You don't understand, Matty," said Reinhard Eichman seriously, "If you were still unconscious you might have been spared whatever pain these Niggers intend to inflict upon us before they kill us."
Matt curled up against his red-haired friend's warm, safe chest, sleep tugging at him relentlessly,
"Ah well ... I guess there's nothing more for us to do, but accept what happens next."
Matthew Goering felt the warm kiss on his blonde hair and, as unconsciousness began to take him yet again, heard Eichman whisper to him,
"Don't give in Matt. As long as we live, there's still a chance we can escape."

"Well, personally I'm bored with fucking you bastards now," replied Rasheed Hawkins.

He stood at the opposite side of the room, watching the tender exchange between Eichman and Goering with amusement,
"But maybe Yusuf will want to plow your asses a few more time before we sell you off to the highest bidder."
And the highest bidder turned out to be the FagBoy slavers of Boys R Us, of course. Both youths fetched quite a price despite having been used. The FagBoy slavers even took a few liberties with Eichman and Matt Goering themselves before putting both young men on the auction block.

'And now those two boys we sold are here fighting for their lives with several of the other slaves Yusuf and I captured,' Rasheed Hawkins thought to himself as he stopped reminiscing about the past, and focused his attention of the battle currently transpiring in the midpoint of the Battle Dome.


And in the center of the arena ....

Justin yelled to Kevin,

"Kev -- enemy at six o' clock!"
The fair-haired warrior quickly turned and found that the gladiator who'd inflicted the wound on his leg was now nearly upon him -- his sword raised high above his head and poised to deliver a devastating blow. The warrior's size was intimidating; a pair of meaty pectorals jutted out over two stacks of rippling stomach muscles. The veins in his lower gut pulsed with blood beneath his taut skin. Had Justin's warning not come at precisely that moment, the story of Kevin Carter would have ended right here.

But the caution had come in a nick of time, so it was the fair-haired warrior's adversary who was about to die instead. Kevin dropped to one knee and, with a short but powerful thrust, ran his sword all the way through his opponent's thickly muscled belly -- his blade catching him a few inches above his navel and poked through the skin in the middle of his back. The quick thrust surprised the gladiator, and his sword was still raised over his head when Kevin pulled the blade out of him and quickly ran it through his belly a second time. The fair-haired warrior's opponent looked down at the blade sticking in his gut and screamed. Then his sword fell out of his hand and he lowered his arm.

Kevin ripped his sword out of his opponent and I stepped back. His adversary staggered a bit but his muscled legs keep him from falling. Blood poured from the two gaping wounds above his navel. Founts of blood rolled down his stomach -- washing the insides of his muscular thighs. Then the gladiator's body stiffened and he fell to the floor. He rolled on his back and clasped his two hands tightly over the deep cuts in his upper abdomen. Blood leaked out of him from the front and back. His hands soon slid off his body and he was motionless.

While watching this portion of the battle, Felicity and her friend Hillary grew incredibly hot and stimulated by all the blood, death and carnage. The carnage turned them on so much that Felicity lifted Hillary's shirt, unhooked the front opening bra, and then gently ... while still watching gladiator's kill one another ... sucked the raven-haired girl's ripe breasts. It gave her an unbelievable thrill when she brought Hillary to her orgasm. The orgasm coincided with Kevin Carter stabbing yet another opposing warrior cleanly through the gut.

Hearing the Valley girl shriek with pleasure, but not really caring, Kev turned and saw another gladiator attacking from his left. His opponent swung his sword wildly, enabling the fair-haired warrior to counter every move. Still this warrior's sword swung wide to his right. Kevin seized his wrist with his left hand and held it tightly -- so that his opponent's sword ... and the gladiator himself ... was now useless. He tried to shake his arm free but the fair-haired warrior's grip would not let go.

Kevin gazed into his blue eyes and he knew he was done for. He flexed every muscle in his upper body, anticipating the steel blade that would soon be run through him. Kevin rammed his sword through his opponent's stone-hard abdomen ...the blade piercing into him between the top two ab muscles on the left side of his stomach before slicing in eight inches deep. The gladiator grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut but he didn't yell out. His ab muscles tightened around the steel blade sticking in his belly.

Kevin yanked his sword free ... then pulled back his arm and, with a powerful thrust, ran his blade through his opponent's torso again. The blade lifted him to his toes as it sliced through his belly between the middle row of ab muscles half way between his navel and his sternum. His body stiffened and his sword fell from his hand. Kevin released his grip on his adversary's wrist, reached under his arm and put his left hand flat on the gladiator's sweat-washed back. He then ripped the sword out of the gladiator's fully flexed body. His opponent landed flat on his back, his arms sprawled out to either side. Blood streamed from the two wounds in his belly and rolled down either side of his stomach.

His adversary died asphyxiating on his own blood.

As he watched the gladiator die at the blood-stained bare feet of Kevin Carter, Yusuf Jackson, one of the founders of BLACKJACK, felt a twinge of guilt. After all, he and Rasheed Hawkins ... who was sitting beside him in the stone bleachers and cheering at the slaughter taking place in the arena ... were responsible for many of these handsome, muscled young men being in this currently deadly situation.

The abduction company known as "Blackjack" began totally by accident. It seemed that a muscular blonde-haired youth named Albert Von Schirach had stormed into the dark inner-city of Compton, furious because someone from this Los Angeles ghetto had reneged on a deal to sell him a considerable quantity of methamphetamine. When Rasheed Hawkins pointed out to the blonde youth that it was stupid of him to have ever believed that a METH lab would be located in Marijuana/Crack-territory, the muscled young man became enraged and attacked the black militant!

When Rasheed Hawkins' friend Yusuf made his way down the street corner where this fray was occurring, he found Albert Von Schirach sitting astride the prostrate form of Rasheed. His thick white fingers circled the brother's throat, and with mighty blows he was dashing the black youth's nappy head against the hard floor. Another moment and murder would have been complete.

"What the fuck ... ?" cried Yusuf.
And, as though to punctuate his remark, he lashed out with the stylized wooden African cane he usually carried ... swung it full upon the back of Von Schirach's blonde head. It was that blow that saved Rasheed's life, for when Von Schirach came to he found himself in a dark and smelly hole, chained and padlocked to a heavy stanchion.

The two kept Albert Von Schirach there for a week; but every day the two militants visited him in an attempt to show him the error of his ways. The medium used by the two militants for impressing their ideas of punishment upon Von Schirach was a large, hard stick. At the end of the week it was necessary to carry the brawny blonde to the home of a different militant to keep the more irate townspeople of Compton from murdering him, for the continued beatings had reduced the muscled blonde to little more than an unconscious mass of raw and bleeding fair-skinned meat. Later they decided that they would either have to execute the blonde youth, or set him free.

But then, like lightening, a third option presented itself.

It seemed that a new business known as Boys R Us had opened in the city of Lakewood. It was a business that dealt in the sale and renting of handsome, muscular young men ... particularly WHAMish fellows. They also paid cash for any muscled young man captured and presented to them alive. Well, The brawny blonde may not have been a member of WHAM, but he was classically Aryan and perfect for what the FagBoy slavers at Boys R Us wanted.

Yusuf and Hawkins were paid well for their blonde captive ... not as well as they would have if the badly beaten brawny youth had been in "mint" condition, but still they collected a handsome fee. And from that day onward Yusuf Jackson and Rasheed Hawkins would become known as the founders of THE BLACKJACK SLAVE SALVAGE SQUADRON.

The young men the two militants hired to fill the ranks of their "BlackJacker Abduction Unit" were treacherous and brutal ex-gang members. And these youths proved how brutal they could be when they were sent to round up the Aryan hillbilly young men who resided in a trailer park in the city of Red Bluff. These blue-eyed backwoodsmen were so stunned by the idea that they were being sold into slavery that they actually went on a hunger strike while being confronted with the guns of the Blackjackers.

"We'd rather starve than be put in bondage," most of them proclaimed.
They even flatly refused to board the truck that would carry them to the Boy R Us slave shop in Lakewood.

The Blackjackers who were armed with clubs began using their "pacifying" instruments -- aiming their clubs at the heads of the trailer trash teenagers. They first dragged the young men out of the trailer park and threw them into the trucks. The muscled youths jumped right out. The Blackjackers beat them again and threw them onto the floor of the trucks. Again, the teen trailer trash fellows jumped out. The Blackjackers then hit them with their clubs and rifle butts until the young, blue-eyed backwoodsmen lay unconscious. Then they threw the teens like limp sacks of potatoes into the trucks.

Then off these insentient captives went to Lakewood and the auction block of the Boys R Us Slave Shop.

"It's a dirty job," Yusuf whispered to himself as he thought of his organization's harsh methods, "But somebody's gotta do it. Shit, may as well be me!"
Then he refocused his attention on the gladiatorial battle transpiring in the center of the Battle Dome....

Kevin paused from the battle to glance at Justin. Three gladiators laid dead on the floor -- their crumpled bodies in a heap around him. Justin had a sword in each hand and was ferociously battling three more gladiators. Kevin ran to the other side of the platform to join the fight. The swarthy combatant didn't see his fair-haired friend as he approached from his right side. And as Justin's opponent parried with him, every muscle on the side of this adversaries torso, from his hip to his armpit, rippled beneath his taut skin.

Kevin waited for him to raise his right arm again -- then he reached around to the front of his chest and grabbed the gladiator's leather harness with his left hand. The fair-haired warrior's fist fit snugly between his beefy pectorals. Kev quickly spun him around -- his massive arms swung out to his sides. The fair-haired warrior slashed his right hand causing the adversary's sword fell to the floor. Kevin buried the blade of his sword in his densely muscled abdomen, ten inches deep. The gladiator's body stiffened as the blade cut into him. The fair-haired warrior struggled as he pulled his blade out of his thick torso -- then ran it through his opponent's muscular belly again.

The gladiator fell a few steps forward as the blade was pulled out of his gut. He looked down at the two thin slits in the middle of his stomach -- blood pouring from each wound. He dropped to his knees, then fell to the floor face down. The puddle of blood beneath him grew larger and larger.

Kevin turned back to Justin -- his left arm was wrapped tightly around the back of a well-built gladiator, his blade driven completely through the center of the gladiator's rigid torso. Only the grip of the sword was visible sticking out just below his sternum. Several inches of the blood-stained blade protruded out his back between his shoulder blades. Justin yanked the sword free and the gladiator fell to the floor, completely still in death.

The floor under their feet was covered with blood. One gladiator was dead on the platform, a sword still in his chest. Several others were scattered at the feet of Kevin and his swarthy friend. Blood seeped from the many stab wounds in their unclad torsos. Justin and Kevin eventually ran from the platform to check on Eichman and Matthew Goering. The Battle Dome was littered with dead or mortally wounded gladiators -- streams of blood drained through the cracks in the white stone floor..

Kevin and Justin eventually spotted Eichman and Matthew -- both were holding off four gladiators. They were battling half way down the steps on the West side of the Temple. The rain was still heavy and the marble steps were treacherous. The swarthy combatant sprinted towards Eichman and spun one of the gladiators away from him and towards Kevin. The gladiator, standing before the fair-haired warrior looked exhausted. Rainwater flowed over his well-muscled body... washing down his muscular legs.

The wound in the fair-haired warrior's leg began to throb as they fought their way down the slippery marble steps. Kevin wiped the water from his bright blue eyes and they returned to the center of the arena. The force of his opponent's blows weakened -- the swollen muscles in his right arm strained to deflect Kev's sword. He lifted his right arm and pulled his sword back over his head. The fair-haired warrior caught his elbow in his left hand as it came down and held his arm high at his side. Kevin stepped forward and drove his sword into the middle of his gut.

His adversary yelled and his body stiffened. He bent at the waist as the fair-haired warrior yanked his sword from him. Blood streamed from the deep stab wound in his belly, but was quickly washed away by the steady flow of water that rolled over the mounds of muscle in his abdomen. Kevin released his hold on his elbow and his arm came down. The fair-haired warrior punched another hole in his tightly flexed gut with a short but powerful thrust His opponent fell back and collapsed on the blood-stained floor. His muscular body was still flexed hard as he laid on his back, writhing in pain for a few moments before going still.

When Kevin turned to seek out his companions, the most abominable, bewildering sight greeted him ....

Justin Volpe was standing over three dead gladiators ... and two of these dead gladiators included Reinhard Eichman and Matthew Goering! Kevin was horrified ... his friend had killed his OTHER friends! It was at this moment that the fair-haired warrior realized that it was delusional and stupid to believe that he, Justin, Matt and Eichman would have been able to leave the area as free men. In the Battle Dome they were all suppose to battle to the last man standing. And Justin, after killing both Eichman and Matthew, intended to be that last man!

The fair-haired warrior looked at the bodies of his friend lying on the blood-stained marble floor. They were lying in the direct center of the arena ... directly above them was narrow circular opening at the top of the dome. A steady flow of rainwater washed the blood from their skin and several stab wounds were clearly visible in each one. Raindrops bounced off Eichman and Matthew's muscular bodies as they lay motionless on the floor at swarthy Justin Volpe's feet.

And Justin suddenly raised his right arm and pointed his blood-stained sword back towards the sky in savage triumph. He bellowed the fair-haired warrior's name,

The swarthy was charging the arena towards him -- his sword held high overhead. The bulging muscles under his wet tanned skin were fully flexed as he flew down the steps. He reached the second step from the bottom, about a foot above Kevin, when the fair-haired warrior spun around to his left and thrust my sword up and towards his solid stomach

Justin screamed and rose to his toes as the blade side-swiped him four inches above his navel. The swarthy combatant twisted his body to the left as he fully extended his right arm and drove the blade towards Kevin's his chiseled torso. The fair-haired warrior was cut, but not deeply enough to do any major damage. It did, however, cause Kevin to drop his sword. A fatal turn of events. Justin used his blade to brutally pierce the fair-haired warrior's sternum.

Kevin moaned and stumbled down to the first marble step. His tightly flexed body bent forward at the waist, his arms were out to his sides ... his fists were clenched. Trickles of blood ran down his belly and filled his navel. Justin grabbed his sword from the floor, raised it over his head and plunged the blade deep into Kevin's thick chest -- piercing the skin just beneath his left pectoral muscle. This fair-haired warrior had taken his friend's blade in his belly twice before without crying out, but the deep cut through his chest elicited a loud, throaty scream.

His blonde head and broad shoulders sprang up from the alter and both his hands clutched the blade buried deep in his chest. A few seconds passed and he slowly relaxed his grip on the sword/. Kevin's head fell back on the marble slab beneath him -- his arms fell to his sides.

Seeing this new turn of events in the battle Buffy sat down on the bleachers in front of Hillary, spreading her legs, showing off her body like she always loves to.

At last, leaning forward, Buffy says,

"Oh-my-god ... friend-killing-friend in the arena gets me like so HOT! Can I like, suck your cherries while I watch?"
Before Hillary could answer, Buffy took a ripe nipple into her mouth and sucked on it fervently ... all the while keeping her eye on the center of the Battle Dome where swarthy gladiator Justin Volpe was preparing to finish off Kevin Carter. Hillary released a contented sigh, and gently cradled the fellow Valley Girl's head in her arms. The blonde air-head could really suck a tit, and soon Hillary's vagina was leaking juice all over the marble bleachers.

Sensing that the redhead was getting close to her orgasm, Buffy dropped away from Hillary's chest and buried her face into her smooth pussy. Her probing tongue quickly found Hillary's erect little clit, flicking at it harshly, making the redhead jerk with each connection. Hillary cupped her breasts and twisted her pink nipples while she stared down at the blonde eating her hot young slit. Her head began to spin out of control as the lust in her clit spread like fire all over her body. Her loud groan signaled that the first orgasmic contraction was ripping through her dripping pussy. Over and over again her cunt muscles squeezed together, each time resulting in another orgasm.

When it was over, Buffy's face was glistening with the sticky juice that had erupted with Hillary's climax.

Meanwhile swarthy Justin Volpe pulled back his sword and shoved the blade up into Kevin Carter's muscular belly again.

The blade cut into his friend just above the first wound. Kevin screamed again and rose to his toes as his blonde head snapped back. Justin grabbed the right side of the fair-haired warrior's torso with his left hand, the muscles rippled under his hand as he pushed the blade all the way through his best friend. Justin then pulled the blade half way out, then ran it through the fair-haired warrior a third time. Blood spurted from the wound before he pulled his sword out. The swarthy combatant's left palm dug into Kev's chest as he tore the blade from his muscular body. The fair-haired warrior fell face-down to the stone floor in front of him. Blood oozed from the three slits in his back where Justin's blade had punched through.

And as Kevin fell, Hillary ... turned on by the carnage ... plunged her tongue deep into Buffy's hairy honey pot. Once the redhead asked Buffy why she kept her bush so furry, and the blonde air-head replied that she had a friend who liked it that way. It didn't really bother Hillary one way or the other, but she had to admit that Buffy Newcastle had the hairiest pussy she had ever seen! Just like all woman, however, Buffy had a very sensitive clit that didn't take much licking to bring her to orgasm ... especially since she had just spent the last ten minutes with her mouth on Hillary's vagina! Now it was Hillary's turn to get her face covered with pussy juice! The blonde air-head seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of the sweet liquid, and every weekend she tried to drown Hillary in it! Hillary really wanted to see more of the boys battling each other to the death down in the area, so she bored in on the "little man in the boat", and brought Buffy to a shuddering climax!

And with Buffy's scream of ecstasy still ringing in his ear, Justin Volpe stood over this last slain gladiator ... which had been his best friend. There was nothing to say. He glanced up at the narrow opening at the top of the domed roof as the rain continued to fall. The swarthy combatant had escaped the battle without a scratch. He didn't need a bloody scar to remind me of this day ... it would be with him for as long as he lived.

In the bleachers, the Valley Girls ... and the co-founders of Blackjack ... began to chant,

Fuck him!
Fuck him!
Justin was well aware that Battle Dome procedure requited that the last gladiator standing humiliate his last opponent even after said opponent has succumb to the embrace of death.

Well Justin would oblige the rules.

Seizing Kevin Carter's ankles, the swarthy combatant tugged his friend's corpse over to a barrel lying on it's side -- the lifeless dragged body leaving a dark streak of blood across the marble floor.

The fair-haired warrior was then draped ass-up over a fallen barrel. His lifeless body was completely limp. The swarthy combatant fucked the dead youth for several minutes before Yusuf Jackson and Rasheed Hawkins left the bleachers to join in on the fun.

Then Justin Volpe and the two co-founders of Blackjack took turns ramming into Kevin Carter's hindquarters. The lifeless fair-haired warrior's ass-hole eventually lost all of its elasticity and was a wide-open, gaping void, dripping slugs of cum. The insides of his creamy thighs were smeared with the refuse and slime of multiple fuckings. And still his the swarthy combatant and the Blackjackers continued to use Kevin's floppy, completely lifeless and unresisting body for their perverse pleasures. Three thick, steel-hard dicks plowed away at the fair-haired warrior's syrupy ass-hole while the Valley Girls in the bleachers watched, cheered and diddled their pussies to show how much they appreciated the bizarre spectacle.

Things got to be more interesting when Yusuf and Hawkins turned on Justin Volpe and began to rape the swarthy combatant just as ardently as they had fucked Kevin Carter's corpse!


By the time the two horny Blackjackers had finished fucking him, Justin Volpe had been reduced from the victorious gladiator to a blubbering, whimpering child. He tried to crawl away on his belly, sobbing, but Yusuf Jackson grabbed one of his ankles and dragged him back by one leg like he was just some slab of meat or some big rag doll. Justin felt himself slip into total darkness as he lost consciousness.

"I knew a mutha fucka who'd kill his own friends wouldn't be brave in the face of a good ass-shankin'."
Hawkins smirked, looking down at the swarthy heap of thoroughly-fucked meat lying at his and his partner's feet.
"Yeah," Yusuf agreed. "Now we can take this boy back to the slave shop and resell his ass for an even higher price."
He began to scribble some lettering on a piece of cardboard he'd found. In a large, bold scrawl, the sign took shape: WINNER OF THE SAN FERNANDO VALLEY GLADIATORIAL BATTLE DOME COMPETITION ... MAKE US AN OFFER.

Hawkins picked up the burly unconscious Justin and slung him over a shoulder. The swarthy combatant's torso hung, head down, along the bellicose brother's back, with Justin's handsome, square-jawed face almost jammed into Rasheed Hawkin's ass. The Valley Girls, who had watched the entire arena battle with such keen interest and sexual savagery, had already left the Battle Dome to pursue other interests.

As Hawkins followed Yusuf out of the alley, the unconscious swarthy combatant draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the black bellicose brother allowed his fingers to play with Justin Volpe's formerly virgin ass-hole, running first one, then another of his thick digits up the loose shit chute. He thrust three fingers up the swarthy combatants rectum and let them twiddle around the warm, greasy interior.

"Cut that out!" Yusuf warned, glancing back at his partner, "Victorious gladiator or not, the slavers at Boys R Us aren't going to pay top dollar for goods that are TOO badly damaged!"