Post by arthurbloodbain on Apr 22, 2014 22:49:14 GMT -5
((Please note that this story will contain very graphic descriptions. We are talking blood and gore, maybe even worse. Please do not read this if you are squeamish. I'm spilling into some slightly dark territory that I normally don't spill into. ))
He woke up in a dimly lit room. His hands and feet were bound, the leather was lined with something that felt very sharp. His wrists were not bleeding so he knew it wasn't actually something sharp. The pain struck him again any time he moved his hands or feet slightly. He knew he was naked but he was covered with sweat. A man walked over to him with a small knife, "Do you know what this is boy?" He asked in a mocking, German, tone, knowing quite well that the boy had know clue but was very scared and almost taking carnal pleasure in that fact. He ran the knife lightly up the boys leg, just enough to scratch the surface with his incredibly sharp blade, "Its a clam knife, they make them sharp enough to pierce clam shells, just imagine what it could do to you," He laughed. The boy gulped hard and looked between the knife and the man quickly. The knife bit into the boy's leg, barely an inch in, it felt to the boy almost as if it went all the way through. The man simply smiled to the boy and quickly pulled the knife out, which was followed by a large spurt of the boy's blood, the flow slowed quickly but it didn't stop before the man put his clam knife back into the large sack, which the boy could only guess what it contained. The man pulled a new knife, a much larger knife than the inch long clam sheller. The blade was about a foot long and it looked almost like a machete. The man walked over to the boy, "This one here is a butcher's knife," He said placing the blade onto the boy's left forearm, "It's used to get the best cuts of meat away from the worst," He said, cutting deeply along the boy's arm, missing every major vein but still spilling out more and more of the boy's blood, covering the table in it; the boy felt as if the blade had hit bone. It was obvious to the boy that the man had been practicing for a long time. The man put the machete into his sack and pulled out a serrated knife. He lifted the boy's cock in his hands and placed the knife at the base, "You know what happens now don't you boy?" He laughed. The boy began to panic and struggle, the pain shooting into his wrists and ankles nearly stopping him. The boy started yelling in an Italian voice, "No! No! Please no! Don't do this to me!" The boy pleaded, he struggled to such an degree that he began to cut himself on the knife. The man pulled on the boy's cock tighter and began to slowly cut along the base, blood spurted onto the boy's stomach. Th boy screamed in pain and terror as the man cut his cock all the way off. The boy's blood spurted up from where the base once was as the man tossed the boy's cock onto the boy's face, the blood still spilling out splashed onto the boy's face, covering it in red. The boy began to vomit and choke on it. The man snapped the boys head to the side and the vomit spilled out of his mouth so he wouldn't choke on it. The man laughed as the boy sat there, still whimpering, covered in his own blood and vomit. The man pulled out a large mallet and placed it onto the boy's temple, "You'll never live to be a man now, you're not even a male anymore," He said as he raised the mallet and brought it crashing down onto the boy's head, blood and brain spilling onto the table. The blood flowed like a stream of red off of the table and into jars below it. The man simply laughed, another victim, killed because he simply felt like it. The Italian boy wouldn't be missed, he was an orphan because his parents were killed. The German's first two victims and the ones that screams were echoed by the boy. The man began to clean his blades, it was almost time for dinner.
He woke up in a dimly lit room. His hands and feet were bound, the leather was lined with something that felt very sharp. His wrists were not bleeding so he knew it wasn't actually something sharp. The pain struck him again any time he moved his hands or feet slightly. He knew he was naked but he was covered with sweat. A man walked over to him with a small knife, "Do you know what this is boy?" He asked in a mocking, German, tone, knowing quite well that the boy had know clue but was very scared and almost taking carnal pleasure in that fact. He ran the knife lightly up the boys leg, just enough to scratch the surface with his incredibly sharp blade, "Its a clam knife, they make them sharp enough to pierce clam shells, just imagine what it could do to you," He laughed. The boy gulped hard and looked between the knife and the man quickly. The knife bit into the boy's leg, barely an inch in, it felt to the boy almost as if it went all the way through. The man simply smiled to the boy and quickly pulled the knife out, which was followed by a large spurt of the boy's blood, the flow slowed quickly but it didn't stop before the man put his clam knife back into the large sack, which the boy could only guess what it contained. The man pulled a new knife, a much larger knife than the inch long clam sheller. The blade was about a foot long and it looked almost like a machete. The man walked over to the boy, "This one here is a butcher's knife," He said placing the blade onto the boy's left forearm, "It's used to get the best cuts of meat away from the worst," He said, cutting deeply along the boy's arm, missing every major vein but still spilling out more and more of the boy's blood, covering the table in it; the boy felt as if the blade had hit bone. It was obvious to the boy that the man had been practicing for a long time. The man put the machete into his sack and pulled out a serrated knife. He lifted the boy's cock in his hands and placed the knife at the base, "You know what happens now don't you boy?" He laughed. The boy began to panic and struggle, the pain shooting into his wrists and ankles nearly stopping him. The boy started yelling in an Italian voice, "No! No! Please no! Don't do this to me!" The boy pleaded, he struggled to such an degree that he began to cut himself on the knife. The man pulled on the boy's cock tighter and began to slowly cut along the base, blood spurted onto the boy's stomach. Th boy screamed in pain and terror as the man cut his cock all the way off. The boy's blood spurted up from where the base once was as the man tossed the boy's cock onto the boy's face, the blood still spilling out splashed onto the boy's face, covering it in red. The boy began to vomit and choke on it. The man snapped the boys head to the side and the vomit spilled out of his mouth so he wouldn't choke on it. The man laughed as the boy sat there, still whimpering, covered in his own blood and vomit. The man pulled out a large mallet and placed it onto the boy's temple, "You'll never live to be a man now, you're not even a male anymore," He said as he raised the mallet and brought it crashing down onto the boy's head, blood and brain spilling onto the table. The blood flowed like a stream of red off of the table and into jars below it. The man simply laughed, another victim, killed because he simply felt like it. The Italian boy wouldn't be missed, he was an orphan because his parents were killed. The German's first two victims and the ones that screams were echoed by the boy. The man began to clean his blades, it was almost time for dinner.