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   story codes: (Mb bb snuff anal oral ped) style: contemporary

   THE DUNGEON MASTER by Rafe Morgan (Copyright 2012)

   BOOK I: THE CAGE (Jacob)

   Chapter 3

   He wanted it again the next day and that night, and the day and night
after that...  Like many young adolescent boys once Jacob had experienced
the sensation of being filled and brought to climax he craved it, wanting
it all the time.  Now and then he still took me in his mouth when we
showered together, but it was the other he constantly looked for.  He would
have had it every hour of the day if I had been capable of it.  In order
not to exceed my own limits, I had to ration our couplings and I used them
as rewards for goals he reached in his training.

   Jacob was immensely proud of the anklet I had given him, admiring it
constantly, and true to his promise, never removing it.  His bead necklace
never came off either, and in some way both seemed bound up in the boy's
increasing self-confidence as he gained in strength.  He began to push
himself to the limit in every workout, partly for pride and partly because
he wanted the reward I would give him that night in bed.  By summer's end
he was tanned all over from swimming naked in the pool and his lithe young
body was nearly as defined as my own.

   The day he bettered a hundred and twenty on pull-ups we celebrated with
a special pizza dinner and then a movie.  "This is one you haven't seen," I
told him, handing over a DVD of "The Beast Master".

   Jacob grimaced.  "It's old!"

   "Yeah, but like I say - you haven't seen it.  Give it a chance.  It's
pretty good."

   We put in the DVD then settled together on the bed where Jacob glanced
at me slyly, rubbing his hand on my hip as a way of letting me know there
were other things he wanted to be doing.

   "Just give it a chance," I told him with a hug and he looked up at me
again and then leaned his head against my shoulder.

   Five minutes into the movie he had stopped fidgeting and I knew it had
grabbed him.  We watched the whole thing, with Jacob only moving to shift
position once or twice, and then when it was finished he sat up and was
full of questions.  What about the boy in the film?  Did he really know how
to fight?  How did he learn?  What happened to him?

   "In that one part, where he's fighting going up the steps - he like
holds his sword way up.  You're always telling me not to do that!"

   "Yes," I said, nodding.  "Did you see how wide open he left himself?"

   "Uh-huh."

   "He gets away with it because the guy he's fighting's above him."

   "He looked cool!  Is that how I look?"

   I smiled at him.  "He's older than you, and bigger.  But you look way
cooler because your muscles show more."

   Jacob beamed at me, excited and pleased.  "If we like fought, I'd beat
him!"

   "Yes," I nodded.  "I think you would."

   The boy rolled against me, wanting to be kissed and petted, then
afterwards he looked up to ask, "Joe, when am I gonna' fight somebody, like
for real?"

   I had been wondering the same thing and I smiled sadly, brushing my
fingers on the firm little swells of muscle in his arm.  "I guess I better
start looking for an opponent.  I've sort of been putting it off..."

   My eyes met his and I stroked his shoulder.  "It's dangerous, Jacob. 
It's like in Conan.  You've got to kill him or he kills you."

   The boy licked his lips.  "I know."

   "Are you scared?"

   His eyes flickered for a moment and then came back to mine.  "Yeah.  I
guess a little."

   "That's honest," I said, nodding.  "I promise I won't overmatch you."

   "Will there be like a lot of people there?"

   "No," I said, shaking my head.  "Just cameras.  They'll be watching on
the Internet.  Later on, if the really rich guys buy you for their team,
they'll be people."

   Jacob's eyes flickered again.  "Will you stay with me?"

   "Yeah," I assured the boy, stroking him.  "I'll stay with you."

   He was quiet for a moment, and then took hold of my hand.  "Would you be
like sad if I got killed?"

   Nodding, I smiled down at him.  "Yes.  I'd be sad.  But if you fought
well I'd be proud of you."

   He held on to my hand a while longer as I kept stroking him, then when
he let go I reached up to curl silky strands of his hair around my fingers.

   "It's getting really long," he told me.  "Like a girl's."

   I leaned over to kiss him.  "You're not a girl.  You're my boy warrior.
The bravest I've ever known.  Conan had long hair, too."

   This seemed to please him.  He squirmed happily and then rolled onto his
back, pulling his knees up to stretch opened his ass.  "Do it like this."

   "You like it that way, don't you."

   The tip of his tongue peeked out and he nodded.  "Uh-huh."

   "Okay." I leaned over so the boy could wrap his legs around me.  "We'll
do it like this..."

   During our workout sessions in the next few days I taught Jacob how to
pose and took pictures of him with a digital camera.  "We'll put these out
and see who wants to fight," I told him as we looked them over together. 
"Damn, you look good!  Way better than that kid in the movie!"

   "He's bigger."

   Jacob was leaning against me and I put my arm around him.  "Yeah, but
that's because he's a few years older.  I bet you're stronger."

   The boy squirmed a little as I hugged him, then asked, "They won't like
see the ones of me all bare, will they?"

   With a pat and another hug I gave him the assurance he wanted.  "I
promised, didn't I?"

   Despite everything we had done he was self-conscious about posing nude
and in those pictures looked stiff and unnatural.  It all changed when I
put a weapon in his hand, so the ones with the sword and javelin were by
far the best.

   "We need to get you a costume."

   "Yeah!"

   This idea appealed to all his boyish instincts and he grinned happily.

   "I'll try to find a place to get one for you," I told him and we went
back to work.

   The business about showing his picture to get an opponent was
prevarication.  The pictures were for me, and having Jacob in costume
seemed an interesting concept.  When I checked around there were no
theatrical or costume shops in my area, but the Internet allowed me to
search the world and in less than an hour I found something I liked.  It
was a winged over mantle made of leather, designed to fit over Japanese
armor.  The thing was wide at the top, sticking out beyond the shoulders,
and tapered down in a vee to a point at the groin.  When I showed it to
Jacob he nodded excitedly and I gave his hard little butt a pat.

   "They make 'em in kid sizes.  Want me to get you one?"

   "Uh-huh!"

   So, I put in an express order to the blind address and it arrived two
days later.  When Jacob tried it on he was ecstatic and wanted his picture
taken immediately.

   "I look awesome!"

   "Yeah, you do," I said patting him.  "I better not show this around.  No
one will want to fight you!"

   "Can I wear it when I fight?"

   "You can wear it before you fight, while you're waiting.  But we'll have
to take it off when the fight is ready to start.  You can't have anything
on that could be armor, and wearing this could be a disadvantage because it
might interfere with your weapons."

   "Yeah, I guess so."

   He seemed a little disappointed so I patted him again and squeezed his
shoulder.  "You'll be wearing it for your warm-ups and you're going to look
great, trust me.  No other kid has anything like this, you'll see."

   He beamed up at me and then ran over to get the spear so I could take
more pictures of him.

   The problem of where to let Jacob fight and who to pit him against had
been occupying me and I had made several scouting trips while he was taking
his after lunch rests.  Ten minutes down the highway was an old industrial
park, some of its buildings still in use, but most deserted including
several warehouses in the back that had the kind of space I needed.  On the
pretext of wanting a place to do experimental films I negotiated a lease
for one and then, avoiding local contractors, did a deal with a fencing
company from a nearby city to install a 20 x 20 foot wire mesh cage inside
the building.

   The foreman leered at me knowingly when I came over to inspect. 
"Settin' up for some dog fightin'?"

   "No," I told him, pretending to be shocked.  "This is shielding for
radio frequency interference.  We're engaged in special experiments on
para-psychological phenomena." Then, offering a cash bonus, I added, "We
don't want the competition knowing, so I hope you'll keep this quiet..."

   "Sure," he told me, as the money disappeared into his pocket.  "I never
saw nothin'..."

   With everything in place, I installed lights and video recording
equipment, and then turned my attention to the problem of getting Jacob's
opponents.

   For these I had two conditions - the boys must be ones I could get
quickly, with minimal risk, and they needed to be the kind who would not be
missed.  This meant cruising for street kids; the runaways, druggies and
illegals that could be found even in small cities if you knew where to
look. But it would require some caution.  Kids on the street are aware of
the dangers and tend to be more networked than is generally regarded.  They
run in packs or work in pairs, so even if you get one off on his own the
others have probably already seen you.  Plus the urban landscape was
populated with cameras.  A stealthy abduction was going to require some
finesse.

   While in the process of selecting his first opponent and preparing the
cage I introduced Jacob to cocaine.  "You're gonna' need this when you
fight," I told him the first time.  "It'll keep you from feeling wounds and
make you quicker - more alert.  You can bet the other kid will be loaded
with it, and you can't afford to give him that edge."

   Jacob took a cautious taste of the white dust off my fingertip, and then
I held a tiny vial out for him to snort.  "Get it right up your nose like I
showed you."

   He sucked it in and the tickling powder made him giggle, then his eyes
widened and I saw the hit explode within him.  "Like it?" I asked, reaching
into his groin.  Jacob's erect penis was rock hard, throbbing as I touched
it.  The boy grabbed my arm, pulling me down onto the bed, and the sex we
engaged in was rough with Jacob begging to be taken again and again.

   After that he wanted it all the time, but I rationed him, using it as a
reward just as I did everything else and it bound the boy even closer to
me. We had been practicing with sharper and sharper weapons, and when the
cage was complete I drove him over to see it, letting him ride up in the
front seat with me and taking no particular precautions.  There was no one
who would recognize him and by then I had total confidence that the boy
would never try to leave me.

   "This is it," I told him when we were inside.

   Jacob peered around and ran over to the cage to feel the wire mesh. 
"Awesome!"

   "Yeah.  Listen --" I walked over to him, my Nikes scuffing on the cement
floor.  "I brought you over here to let you see what the real thing is
gonna' be like.  Take a hit --"

   I gave him a vial of cocaine pulled out of my pocket, and Jacob leaned
over eagerly to snort it.  I felt him quiver as the high took him, and then
he looked up at me, eyes gleaming in the overhead lights.

   "Strip down," I ordered and without any hesitation the boy removed his
clothes to stand naked before me, his penis fully erect, jutting out from
his groin.  He watched as I did the same and then, taking the weapons I had
brought with us, I ushered Jacob into the cage and shut the door behind us.

   "Listen to me." I handed him a javelin and a sword.  "These weapons are
sharp and this is your first real fight.  It's against me so you won't be
killed - you know I love you too much to do that - but if you don't fight
hard or if you make a mistake I'll slice you from head to toe, believe
that. You're going to be hurt.  Can you handle that?"

   "Yes," the boy told me.

   He showed no fear - the drug had seen to that, and I had given him a big
enough hit so that he was quivering a bit as he looked confidently up at
me.

   The smooth, silky skin of Jacob's wiry body glowed in the lights, every
curve sculpted by the overhead illumination.  From his hairless groin his
erect penis jutted up so hard the tip was quivering with his excited
heartbeats.

   "Back to a corner," I ordered, taking up my own two weapons.  Jacobs
started to turn away but when I growled "No!" he looked at me startled. 
"Don't ever turn your back on an opponent," I snarled.  "Haven't I taught
you better than that?  Keep your eyes on me all the time!"

   He nodded and then stepped cautiously backward, keeping his weapons up
in guard until he was in a corner.  I held out my javelin, then without
looking pushed it back through the wire fencing behind me until it
clattered to the cement floor outside.

   "I'm twice your size, so I'm giving you a weapons advantage.  It's all
you're going to get."

   Jacob was focused now.  He stared at me, eyes glittering in the lights.

   "Now!" I yelled, and advanced toward him.

   It was impulse, not planning, that had me giving Jacob this chance at me
with sharpened weapons.  Originally the idea had been simply to familiarize
him with the cage, but the moment I had seen the look on his face as he
gazed at the steel mesh all my instincts were to allow him one final
opportunity to escape his fate by killing me or else disabling me enough to
get away.

   He did not take it.  I had tossed away one of my weapons to give him the
advantage and even told him I would fight to wound, not kill; but still he
did not press.  The way he parried my first jab showed everything.  It was
Jacob's destiny to trust me - even in his boyish way to love me - just as
it was mine to take him.  Nothing could now change the course events would
follow.

   We circled each other warily, the boy's slender, perfectly sculpted body
glistening in the light, and all I could think of was how beautiful he was.
Jacob's long blonde hair fell straight over his shoulders and the stance he
took with his weapons raised at guard tensed all his muscles, sharpening
their definition.  It was a stunning effect and I stared in admiration at
the taper of chest and shoulders to taut waist, the lean hard little belly
framed by a vee of groin and the graceful curve of rounded butt.

   Eyes wide in concentration, his dainty mouth half open, Jacob stalked
me, parrying another jab and then counter-sweeping with his sword just as
he had been taught.  I wanted to compliment him, but this was not the time
for it; the boy must view me as a serious opponent and not a teacher.

   His stiff erection had gone limp, all the drug's arousal channeled
elsewhere, yet even in flaccidity Jacob was perfect, his penis and tight
little scrotum perfectly formed.  I was looking at them, thinking that in a
real encounter I might have him wear a Speedo or perhaps fighting shorts...

   The boy attacked, feinting with the sword in his right hand and using
the javelin in his left for a lightning quick jab.

   I had been waiting for it.  It was the obvious thing to try given his
advantage in weapons and, ignoring his sword hand for a moment, I knocked
the javelin aside and then countered with a thrust of my own which he
nimbly avoided.

   What I did not expect was the way he instantly followed up with a nice
little backhand slash of his sword that might have nicked me if he had not
pulled off.  It was another proof if I needed it of his not taking the
opportunity I had given him, but it was still well done and this time I
could not help grinning at him and saying, "Very good!"

   Jacob's eyes glowed with pride and the boy's loveliness in that moment
tugged at my heart.  It seemed a terrible thing to mar such perfection but
he had to be blooded so I steeled myself and looked for an opening. 
Despite his extra weapon I had the size advantage and longer reach. 
Beating down his defense I was able to back him into corners where twice he
evaded me using the javelin as distraction, but the third time I was ready
with a counter.  Knocking up his sword so that he would have to defend I
twisted and swept the edge of my blade across his upper arm slicing the
skin.  Stung, Jacob flinched back and in the next instant I had my sword at
his throat.

   "Yield," I demanded and after a moment he nodded.

   Even so I was cautious, disarming him before I stepped back.  Jacob
stared, looking up at me waiting for my judgment.  Blood was flowing down
his arm from the sword cut but in the grip of the drug he seemed not to
notice until I put my own sword down and bent to examine the wound.

   "I got cut," he told me in surprise, staring at the blood.

   "Yeah.  It'll heal up.  You'll be okay." I smiled at him and patted his
butt, rubbing my palm on the silky mounds.  "It's your first scar.  You're
my blooded warrior now.  I'm proud of you."

   The boy's eyes flashed and he turned to lean against me, his penis
lifting into stiff rigidity as I stroked him.

   Leading him out of the cage I ripped my shirt into a rough bandage to
tie around his arm, and then cleaned up with the remaining rags.  Once he
was dressed I gathered the weapons we had used, took Jacob outside and
locked up.  In the van Jacob slid over to rest his head on my shoulder.

   "Promise me something," I said, putting an arm around him.  The boy
looked up.  Already the drug was wearing off and I could tell he was
beginning to feel pain.  "Swear to me that in a real fight you won't hold
back the way you did today."

   "I won't, Joe.  I promise."

   "You have to kill or be killed, Jacob.  You can't show any mercy.  Swear
to me."

   "I swear."

   After giving the boy a hug I started the van and drove over to the
service road that skirted the industrial park.  "If this had been a real
fight today, you'd be dead now."

   "Uh-huh." The boy lifted his head to look up at me again.  "Would you
still like be proud of me?"

   "Yes!" I told him fiercely, stroking his bare side through the open
muscle shirt.  "So very proud!  I'm twice your size yet you showed no fear
and fought me bravely!  I'd be so very, very proud of you!"

   Jacob pressed hard against me and I felt him tremble as he told me
softly, "Then it's like I don't care if I get dead."

   Perhaps this was the drug talking, or perhaps not.  The reaction was
hitting him now and he slipped down to stretch across my lap.  My fingers
pushed into his loose shorts, caressing the boy's lean belly and then
rubbing his stiff penis.

   The slash on Jacob's upper left arm was deep enough to make him grit his
teeth when I cleaned it with peroxide at the house, but there was no muscle
damage and after smearing it with antibiotic ointment I bound on a sterile
wrap and left it to heal from the inside out.

   "We'll have to be careful to keep this dry when you shower," I told him.
"And you can't go swimming for a while..."

   Jacob's face registered dismay at this, because he liked the time spent
in the pool with me.  "Okay," I conceded.  "You can go in the shallow end,
and I'll ride you around, but just don't get the thing wet!"

   "I won't," he promised.

   Afterwards I let him have more cocaine and even though I knew he was in
pain he begged to be taken, clinging to me with his legs wrapped around my
waist as I entered him.  Later on, with the boy stretched out on his
unwounded side, I pleasured him again, taking the boy into spasm after
jerking spasm, holding him by his taut waist and stroking his rigid
quivering shaft while my thick rod slid in him.

   While his shoulder healed we concentrated on abdomen and legs in our
workouts, using a relaxed scheme that gave me extra time to work on the
problem of finding opponents.  Jacob thrived on this change, even gaining
some strength from the rest.  His tan deepened with more hours spent in the
Sun and his long brown hair bleached to a dark blonde.

   When his sword cut had healed into a glistening scar I warned him to
stay ready.  "It could be any day.  Let's make every practice session
count!" The boy nodded solemnly and I gave his butt a pat.

   Having gone to all the trouble of preparing the boy, the last thing I
wanted was to lose him in the first encounter.  But neither did I want him
spoiled by too easy a victory.  The ideal opponent would put up a decent
fight and then be beaten, but there were no guarantees and since I did not
want to leave Jacob on his own for extended periods of time I had to take
what opportunity offered in the immediate area.

   As a first selection I took a Mexican kid who cruised me at the mall in
the same nearby city where I had found the sporting goods store.  It was a
Saturday afternoon, the concourse was crowded with shoppers and I was
standing in front of the Foot Locker store when he appeared at my elbow.

   "You want some shoes like that?" I asked in Spanish and he looked up at
me.

   "Si."

   We exchanged glances and it was all there in his eyes.  He had straight
black hair, and dark features more Indian than Spanish.  In height and
weight he was a little bigger than Jacob, but I decided it was a close
enough match physically for Jacob's strength, endurance and training to
make up the difference.  I gave a jerk of my head to signal that he was to
follow and started walking toward an exit with the boy trailing at a
discreet distance.  There were cameras, but we were two in a crowd and the
risk was negligible.  Outside he dropped back even further, and then caught
up once we were away from the buildings.

   "This way," I told him, still speaking in Spanish, and we walked down
the long row of parked cars to my van.

   "I give you nice blow job," the kid told me, climbing into the back
after I opened the sliding panel door.  "I don't take it in the ass."

   "How much?" I asked.

   "You buy me some nice shoes."

   "Nope." With a quick hard shove I pushed him down onto the metal floor.
"You're busted, kid.  Policia..."

   He did not struggle or resist, probably because he had been through it
before, but instead turned his head as I put handcuffs on him.  "I give it
to you for free, Jefe'.  You can fuck me.  Don't turn me in.  I got no
card."

   He was an illegal; maybe here with a family, but more likely on his own.
Either way his disappearance was unlikely to be reported.  He seemed like a
nice enough kid and it occurred to me that if by some chance he were the
winner instead of Jacob it would be interesting to see what could be done
with him.

   After sliding closed the panel door I patted his shoulder, feeling the
warm smoothness of his skin under the cheap T-shirt he wore.  Then I talked
to him in Spanish.

   "You ask me not to turn you in.  Very well.  Instead I offer to be your
Patron."

   "Yes, Jefe'," the boy replied eagerly.  "Be my Patron.  Please."

   "If I am your Patron you will live in a big house with a swimming pool,
have all you wish to eat and play video games or watch movies on a wide
screen.  Would you like that?"

   "Si, Patron.  I would do whatever you want."

   "Let me fuck you?"

   "Si.  Anything."

   "Then I accept you.  I will be your Patron.  But, you must do one thing
first."

   The youngster half turned to stare up at me.  "Yes, Patron."

   "I have already a boy who does these things living with me.  You must
fight him if you wish to take his place."

   There were a few moments of silence while he considered it.  "This boy -
how old is he?"

   "Thirteen."

   He nodded confidently.  "I will fight him."

   Rubbing with my hand, I slid a palm down his back and pushed under the
loose shirt to feel the taut silkiness of the boy's waist.  He moved toward
me offering his lips and when I leaned down he let me kiss him.

   "You understand that when you beat this other boy he cannot be allowed
to live..."

   "Yes, Patron."

   "You must kill him or he will kill you.  This is understood?"

   "Si."

   The youngster licked his lips and there was some fear in his eyes, but
he met my gaze steadily.  My hand slipped beneath the waist of pants and
tight briefs to cup the firm glossy mounds of his butt and he offered his
lips again.

   "Win for me," I told him after we kissed.  "This other one, he has
become arrogant and too full of himself.  I like you better.  I want you to
take his place."

   "Si, Patron," the boy said, nodding.

   "Prepare yourself then.  Rest and be comfortable.  I apologize for the
handcuffs, but until I see you prove yourself they must stay on.  You
understand?"

   "Si."

   Patting the boy's head I stroked his glistening black hair.  "You will
be my warrior - my pistolero.  I will make sure you have everything."

   Climbing into the front seat I started the engine, backed the van out of
its parking slot and after making several random turns to be sure no one
was following, took the interstate home.

   When I reached the house, I climbed into the back of the van to stroke
the boy again and told him to be patient.  Then I went inside.  There was
no one in the basement, but upstairs I found Jacob lying naked on a towel
by the pool, his hard tanned little body gleaming in the sunlight.  He
turned his head as I came onto the patio and then sat up smiling, his penis
stiff and erect.

   "Come swimming with me," he begged but I shook my head and squatted down
beside him.

   "We have a fight."

   Instantly the boy's face changed and with a look of total concentration
he drew his legs up tailor fashion to listen.

   "This other kid's new, just like you are - and he's a little bigger. 
But now that I've seen him, I'm sure you can take him."

   "When's the fight gonna' be?"

   "In a few hours.  We gotta' give him a little time to warm up.  He's had
a trip getting here." I reached over to pat Jacob's bare knee and my hand
was trembling.  "Just do like I told you.  You can handle him, I know you
can.  You're my...  my..."

   I wanted to say "my little warrior", but my throat thickened before I
could get the words out.  Jacob put his hand on mine and I could feel that
he was trembling, too.

   "I will."

   "There won't be any people yet," I said after swallowing a few times. 
"Just cameras..." Then I squeezed his knee, hard.  "No mercy, kid. 
Remember that.  It's him or you, so don't let up!  I don't want to lose
you!"

   Jacob nodded solemnly.  "I know."

   "Okay." I straightened up and then pulled the boy to his feet.  "I'm
gonna' take you downstairs.  Stay in your room while the kid warms up.  You
can't see each other before the fight.  The bathroom will be open on your
side first in case you need it.  You want a little something to eat?"

   "Uh-uh." He shook his head and I nodded in approval.

   "I think that's best.  Stay fast and light..."

   Bringing Jacob downstairs, I locked him into his room, then went to get
the Mexican kid out of the van.  When I brought him in he looked around
curiously at the weight equipment while I took off the handcuffs.  "Where
is the boy?" He asked in Spanish.

   I gestured toward Jacob's locked door.  "In there.  He knows he is to
fight and he is preparing himself.  Come with me."

   Leading the boy upstairs, I let him see the swimming pool and then
showed him the rest of the house, which he looked over with shining eyes.
"When do we fight?" he asked.

   "In an hour.  Do you wish something to eat first?"

   "No."

   It was the same decision Jacob had made and again I nodded in approval.
"This is wise.  You must be fast and alert.  What is your name?"

   He looked up at me.  "Estaban."

   "Estaban.  It is a good name." I took him by the shoulders and stared
into his eyes.  "You are the one I want, Estaban.  You will win for me?"

   "Si, Patron."

   "You are not afraid?"

   "No."

   This was a lie, because his voice shook a little, but the kid was
determined to conceal it.  I squeezed his shoulders and he put his arms
around me to hug.

   "You will be loyal to me?"

   "Si.  Always, Patron!"

   Reaching down I slid my hand beneath his shirt to rub his smooth waist
and the boy sucked in his stomach so I could push down beneath his pants to
where his rigid penis strained against his tight briefs.  The tip was
uncircumcised and I rubbed thumb and forefinger over the little almond
shape before sliding down to discover a downy tuft of sparse hair
surrounding the base.

   "Jefe'" the boy whispered, closing his eyes and lifting his face to
mine. As we kissed his mouth opened to let my tongue explore and then he
slid his palm back and forth over my butt.

   "Come," I told him when our lips parted.

   Taking the boy back down to the basement I led him into the small
bedroom, locking the door behind us.  Turning, I pulled up the boy's shirt
and he lifted his arms so I could take it off, baring his upper body.  Then
we took off his ragged sneakers, which he wore without socks, and he
allowed me to strip him of pants and briefs.  Standing naked before me, the
boy looked up with his dark eyes and when I leaned over to kiss him he
lifted up on tiptoe hugging tightly.  His skin was the color of coffee with
cream and my hands ran over it finding him satiny smooth, with the soft
rounded contours Jacob had once had before the workouts hardened him.

   After our lips parted he watched as I stripped and then leaned against
me feeling the muscle of my arm and shoulder.  "You are very strong,
Jefe'."

   "I will make you strong, too, little one," I assured him and picked him
up, placing him tenderly on the bed.

   The boy rolled over and then got up on his hands and knees, hunching
forward to present his butt and with a tube of KY left behind from an
encounter with Jacob I lubricated his crease.  Spreading his thighs, the
boy hunched down even more, placing his chin on the mattress and then
reached back to grip with his hands behind his knees.  I smeared KY on my
jutting penis and leaned over him, stroking his warm silky flanks, and the
boy quivered as my blunt tip pushed into his anus.

   Despite what he had told me at the mall, the experienced way he
positioned himself and the ease with which I penetrated him betrayed how
many times he had done this before.  With a thrust my full length went up
into him and the boy moaned in pleasure as I slid back and forth, at the
same time reaching into his groin to stroke his hard quivering shaft.

   Right away he was lifting his hips to push against me, squirming as I
ground at the completion of each firm thrust.  In and out, my slick rod
slid in his gaping anus and the boy began to pant, making soft little
gasping cries, "Ai...  Ai...  Ai...  Ai..."

   My fingers moved on his thick little shaft and suddenly the boy quivered
as a dribble of clear slippery drops oozed from his tip.  He tensed,
holding his breath, and I pumped faster...  Then in jerk after jerk the
boy's rigid shaft contracted, shooting thick white spurts of semen.

   After his release he kept moving his hips until I came inside him, and
then once my softening penis had slipped out he turned to hug and squirm
against me.

   "Thank you, Patron.  That was beautiful."

   "I thought you told me you didn't like that," I said, caressing him.

   "I like it with you, Patron.  You are gentle."

   "I promise always to be gentle with you, little one."

   Kissing the boy, I petted him until his heartbeat slowed, and then with
a final caress of his pert little butt I got up off the bed.

   "You must rest now," I ordered, covering his naked body with a sheet. 
"This other door is a bathroom.  I will open it so you can do what you
must. In an hour I will come to dress you and take you to where you will
fight."

   "We do not fight here?"

   "No.  There is a place.  I will show you.  Fight bravely for me,
Estaban!"

   "I will Jefe'!"

   Gathering up my clothes I left the room, locking the boy in and then
after getting dressed by the weight bench, I used my key to enter Jacob's
room.  The boy was lying naked on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.  He
turned his head when I came in, then sat up.

   "Is it time?"

   "Yeah.  The other kid's warmed up.  Are you done with the bathroom?"

   "Uh-huh."

   I went in, closing his door behind me and then unlocked Estaban's.  In
the small room the Mexican boy was curled in a fetal position under the
sheet and he lifted his head at the sound of the door.

   "Here is the bathroom.  Do whatever you need.  I will come for you in an
hour." Walking over to the bed, I knelt down and stroked his shiny raven
dark hair.  "Are you all right, Estaban?"

   "Yes, Patron."

   "Be brave for me."

   "I will."

   Leaving his bathroom door open, I returned to Jacob's room and locked
that connecting door.  "Okay," I told the boy.  "Let's get ready."

   First I oiled the boy, rubbing coconut-scented lotion into his skin
until his entire body glistened.  Then from his wardrobe we got the tiny
black satin briefs I had bought for him and he slipped them on.  Dressed
now in gold ankle chain, bead necklace and the tight briefs, Jacob stood in
front of me while I gathered his long sun bleached hair and tied it back
with a leather strap.

   "Joe?"

   "Yeah?"

   The boy's voice quavered a little.  "Even if I get dead I'll make you
proud of me."

   I closed my eyes for a moment and then gave him a quick hug and patted
his hard little butt.  "I know you will, Jacob."

   He got his warrior's leather over mantle, and then sat on the weight
bench holding it while I put the sharpened weapons into the van.

   "Ready?"

   "Uh-huh."

   Following me to the garage he climbed into the passenger seat, carefully
guarding his leather over mantle and then let me close the door.  On the
way to the industrial park we did not talk but the boy reached over to take
my hand and held it on his bare thigh.

   At the warehouse, I parked the van close to the door so Jacob could go
through without being seen, although the precaution was unnecessary since
the place was deserted.  Inside, late afternoon sunlight slanted down from
the windows high on the wall, glistening on the steel cage.  The naked
sword blades I carried sent reflections dancing over the concrete when I
placed them on the floor alongside the needle pointed javelins.

   "In you go," I told Jacob.  The boy put on his over mantle and after he
entered the cage I made a show of locking the door.  "You're on camera from
now on," I said, walking around adjusting the video equipment.  "Do your
warm-up routine like we've practiced.  I'm gonna' go get the other kid."

   "Yes, Joe."

   Leaving him, I returned to the van and drove back to the house.

   There was fear in the Mexican kid that I could smell when I unlocked the
door to the small bedroom.  But he got up off the bed as I came in and
stood, trying to be brave.

   "Did you use the bathroom?"

   "Yes, Patron."

   "Then we will get ready.  Come."

   Unlocking the connecting door to Jacob's room I took the boy inside and
Estaban gaped at the big TV, the DVD player, the video games and the
waterbed.

   "All this is yours if you win, little one."

   "Si." His jaw tightened and he looked determined.  "Si, Patron."

   I slicked his body with coconut oil until it glistened wetly.  Then,
from Jacob's wardrobe, I got a pair of workout shorts and had Estaban slip
them on.  They were tight on him so I ripped the sides up nearly to the
waist exposing his smooth glossy hips.

   "You will fight in this," I told him.  "The other boy has the same.  You
will both use the same weapons."

   "Bare feet, Patron?"

   "Yes, bare feet.  He will not have shoes either.  Hold out your hands."

   I slipped handcuffs on the boy, in front this time, and we went out to
the van where I helped him into the passenger seat.

   "Patron?"

   "Yes?" I held the door open while he licked his lips and then glanced at
me.  "It is true I will have to kill him?"

   "Yes.  Or else he will kill you."

   Estaban's tongue flicked over his lips again.  "Perhaps I should not do
this."

   "You have no choice," I assured him and closed the door.

   On the ride out to the highway I could feel Estaban trembling when I put
my hand on his bare leg and he held onto it tightly with his own.

   When I led the Mexican boy into the warehouse he looked around wide-eyed
and then started when he saw Jacob wearing the leather over mantle staring
back at him from the cage.  "That is the boy?"

   "Yes." I leaned close to whisper.  "You are bigger and stronger.  You
can take him.  Show no mercy!"

   He nodded and I walked him over to one of the guy wires for the cage and
then unsnapped one of his cuffs and relocked it around the wire.

   "Wait here."

   Taking up a pair of weapons I went to the cage door, opened the padlock
and then beckoned for Jacob to approach.  "Leather," I ordered, snapping my
fingers.  He removed the over mantle, standing proudly, his almost naked
body glistening in its coating of oil.  I put the costume carefully asid
and took a vial of cocaine out of my pocket.  When I held it out to him he
sucked the powder into his nose with a practiced snort and I saw his little
body quiver as the drug hit.  Handing the boy his weapons I gestured again
and he retreated to the far corner away from the door.

   Estaban had been watching and when I brought a vial of cocaine to him he
gave me a questioning look.

   "Cocaine.  It will help you fight better.  You know how to take it?"

   "Si, Patron." He snorted it in the same practiced way that Jacob had and
then stood up straighter, eyes glowing.

   "Ready?"

   "Si!"

   Unlocking his cuffs I took the boy to the door, handed him weapons as he
stepped inside and then closed up the cage and fastened the padlock.

   "Only one of you comes out alive," I said quietly, stepping back.

   Neither boy was listening.  They stared at each other for a few moments
without moving, then to my surprise Estaban suddenly charged across the
cage with a yell that was almost a scream.

   Even though I knew it was the drug, it was still not a bad tactic.  The
Mexican kid had the edge in height, weight and reach, so if he could
overwhelm in a quick rush, catching Jacob before he was set and forcing a
mistake so that the smaller boy was wounded, perhaps even disabled at the
outset, the matter could be over very quickly.

   But Jacob's training held.  Rather than be trapped in a corner he came
out to meet the Mexican kid's charge, parried the sweeping sword stroke
that left the other boy open and countered with a flickering slash of his
own blade that cut across the swell of Estaban's left thigh.  It was
beautiful to watch and even before blood sheeted down the leg I knew how
the encounter would end.

   High on the drug, the Mexican kid was not even aware he had been cut
until he took a step to shift position and the leg almost buckled.  Looking
down in surprise he saw the blood and screamed something in Spanish that I
did not catch but by taking his eyes off Jacob he had opened himself again.
The attack was so swift I almost missed it.  Jacob's left arm darted
forward, stabbing the needle sharp tip of his javelin into the Mexican
boy's upper abdomen just under the ribs.  For an instant the full length of
the tapered end was buried in the other kid's body and then Jacob pulled it
back out as he had been taught and returned to guard position.

   Now Estaban was doomed because the stroke was mortal, puncturing both
liver and lung, but in the grip of the drug he was unaware that death was
stalking him and ignoring his wounds he returned to the attack.  Screaming
another inarticulate cry he delivered a sweeping uppercut of his blade, and
then in a move nearly as fast as Jacob's he lunged with the javelin.

   It very nearly worked because Jacob was over focused on the sword hand,
which was always his weakness, and if in his twisting parry his hips had
not shifted aside, Estaban's javelin might have skewered him.  As it was
the Mexican kid's missed thrust put him off balance and the tip of Jacob's
blade slashed him diagonally from right nipple down to the left brim of his
pelvis.  Blood poured out over the boy's bare skin and he staggered,
backing away trying to keep a guard up, but Jacob bored in, eyes wide and
staring, his features a mask of concentration.

   His blade flickered again, knocking Estaban's guard aside and slashing
across the abdomen in a stroke that I was amazed did not bring the
black-haired boy's guts spilling out.  Blood was everywhere now, its
coppery smell in the air, flowing dark red on Estaban's brown skin and he
had begun to gasp as his punctured lung filled, more blood trickling from
his mouth.

   Jacob made a short quick thrust with his javelin, intending it as a
feint so Estaban would twist aside and be open to the blade again, but the
Mexican kid was staggering, unable to evade.  He screamed as Jacob's spear
tip caught him in the right armpit, ripping him open and bright red blood
gushed down his flank.

   It was only a matter of seconds now and I looked for Jacob to deliver a
killing stroke, but like any novice he was a slave to his training. 
Instead, because Estaban's guard was down and his left side open he did
when he had been taught and slashed the edge of his blade across the back
of the other boy's knee cutting the tendons.

   The Mexican kid went down hard, screaming, and now there were words,
"Adjuda me!  Patron!  Por favor!  Adjuda me!"

   He was begging for my help, not knowing that he was far past the point
where anything could save him.

   Somehow he rolled away still clutching his sword and struggled up onto
one knee, leaning back to lift the sword with a shaking arm as Jacob took a
step toward him.  Perhaps it was the drug or just desperation that got
Estaban up to defend himself, but I choose to believe that it was because
the boy had courage and wanted to die fighting.

   Jacob advanced warily, on guard just as he had been taught and I
murmured to myself, "Kill him cleanly." But the boy was not yet experienced
or confident enough for that.  Instead he knocked aside the Mexican kid's
feeble sword swipe and then took the shot that was open, driving the tip of
his javelin down into the boy's exposed stomach.

   The sharp point entered just to the right side of Estaban's belly
button, ran him through and emerged in the lower part of the Mexican boy's
left butt cheek lifting the torn flap of his shorts there.  The metal shaft
was running with dark red blood.  Mouth opening in a shocked gasp the raven
haired kid dropped his sword and it clattered onto the concrete.  He
grasped the protruding javelin with both hands and then toppled onto his
side flopping like a gaffed fish.

   Jacob's beautifully sculpted body glistened in the lights as he stood
over his defeated opponent, sword pointed down at him.  Then he lifted his
eyes to mine.

   "Hold!" I shouted, unlocking the cage door and stepping inside.  While I
walked toward him Jacob stared up at me, shaking a little.

   "Is he dead?"

   "Not yet."

   The Mexican boy's eyes were staring blindly but his hands still gripped
the shaft of the javelin and when I nudged him with the toe of my boot he
twitched, jerking his legs.  I looked at Jacob.  "He's dying.  But it could
take a long time.  Hours, maybe - and he'll be in agony the whole time."

   In fact, the Mexican kid was bleeding to death as well as drowning in
the blood filling his punctured lung.  He would die very soon, but the
reality was stark enough.  Jacob's eyes were locked on mine.

   "Did he fight you bravely?"

   The boy nodded.  "Uh-huh."

   "Then you can't leave him like this.  You have to finish him cleanly."

   Jacob's hand clenched and he re-gripped the handle of his sword.

   "Like this," I told him, squatting down.

   The Mexican boy was lying half rolled onto his side with his legs pulled
up.  I pried his left hand off the javelin shaft, and then pulled his arm
back, stretching it behind his head to expose the left side of his chest.
Estaban's frightened eyes stared up at me, bright red blood bubbling out of
his mouth.  With the last shreds of dimming consciousness the dying boy
knew what was happening.

   "Right here," I told Jacob, pointing to the stretched skin over
Estaban's ribs.  "Put your sword through his heart.  All the way in.  Keep
your blade flat and do it slow.  Be sure of it.  Don't let him suffer.  You
see how to do it?"

   "Uh-huh." Jacob nodded again.  He placed his sword tip in the little
space between the ribs on the side of the Mexican kid's chest and at the
prick Estaban's eyes rolled in terror.  He tried to squirm and pull away,
giving desperate little bleating cries, "Ai...  Ai...  Ai...  Ai...", but
his writhing could not avoid the blade that Jacob was already leaning on.
It slid into the kid's chest, burying itself more than halfway to the grip
before its tip ground on the other side of the rib cage.

   The Mexican boy's eyes opened wide.  Blood poured from his mouth and he
stared as if at something far away...  something neither Jacob nor I could
see.  Then his legs thrashed, jerking twice.  With a bubbling sigh air
leaked out of his blood-filled mouth.  The stare became fixed and I knew he
was gone.

   There was a farting sound of escaping gas.  A foul stench hit our
nostrils as Estaban's bladder and bowels released their contents.

   "Ewww." Jacob grimaced and held his nose.

   "That happens when you die," I told him.  "It's not his fault.  The
muscles relax and everything comes out.  That's one of the reasons I told
you to use the bathroom before the fight."

   "Didn't he like use it?"

   "He told me he did.  But maybe he was too nervous or too scared.  That's
not his fault either.  He can't help what's happened.  Don't make that
face. Try to respect him.  You said he was brave."

   "Yes, Joe."

   Jacob was still high on the coke and the reaction had not set in yet. 
He tugged at his sword trying to pull it free of the dead boy's chest, but
the blade was stuck fast.

   "Jammed in the ribs," I told him.  "The bones close up on it.  That's
why I've always warned you about stabbing too deep into your opponent.  You
put the blade in - you might not ever get it back.  Remember?"

   "Yes, Joe."

   I stroked the dead boy's hair tenderly and then closed his eyes.

   "How come you do that?" Jacob wanted to know.

   "Respect.  I think he fought bravely, too."

   Straightening up I placed my boot on Estaban's sprawled form and then
pulled Jacob's sword free and handed it to him.  "You got to pose for the
victory photo.  People are watching this."

   I got the digital camera and we took several shots with Jacob standing
over his dead opponent and then I gave him another vial of cocaine to
snort, stripped off his tight satin briefs and we did more shots with his
stiff erection showing.

   While the boy was posing I saw blood trickling down the outside of his
right thigh and discovered there was a shallow but ragged tear of the skin
just above his hip.

   "He like almost got me there," Jacob told me as I put on a temporary
bandage.

   "It's gonna' be your second scar.  Seems to me like he did get you."

   With the drug zinging in his head Jacob was finding it hard to stay
still.  He wiggled impatiently, touching his lower belly.  "I mean like
almost in me.  He almost deaded me."

   Patting my little warrior's butt I looked up at him and smiled.  "Yeah,
but he didn't.  You avoided and killed him instead.  That's training and
skill.  You had it and he didn't.  I'm so proud of you!"

   This made his eyes gleam and he arched, showing off his body for me.

   The dead Mexican kid was lying sprawled in a glistening puddle of blood
and I started to work on wrapping him up.  Getting a plastic tarp from a
stack in the corner I unrolled it on the concrete and then went into the
cage.  From outside the mesh Jacob watched as I donned rubber dishwashing
gloves and then, stepping gingerly to avoid the filth, I pulled the javelin
from the dead boy and stripped him, sliding off the torn shorts.  Picking
up the naked body by the ankles I held it up with head and arms dangling
limply and carried it to a cleaner spot on the floor.  This was not easy
because the Mexican kid's deadweight was probably about a hundred and
twenty pounds and my arms shook as I laid him down gently.

   Jacob helped me bring the tarp inside and we spread it carefully to
avoid the messy places in the middle.  When it was time to roll the body
into it I waved him back.  "I've got the gloves."

   The dead boy's carcass was greasy and foul from the blood, piss and
fecal matter he had been lying in, so I handled it carefully, rolling him
onto the plastic so it would protect me when I picked him up.  Cradling the
limp form in my arms I carried it out of the cage that had been his death
pen and placed him reverently on the concrete floor outside.

   Jacob came to my side and we both stood there looking down.  With the
dead boy stretched out it was possible to count at least a dozen places
where Jacob's blade had slashed him.  Two of the biggest cuts, the one on
the left thigh and the diagonal stroke from right nipple to left lower
belly, were deep enough to have cut through muscle and a third - the one
across the stomach - was through every layer, almost into the abdominal
cavity itself.  There were also the two puncture wounds, one in the right
upper stomach and a penetrating thrust in the belly button.  The right
armpit was ripped open and in the left chest was the gaping slit made by
the final sword thrust.

   "He was dead the moment you put this into him," I told Jacob, squatting
down by the body and putting a gloved finger into the hole over the liver.
"Remember this?  It was your second attack, right after you slashed his
thigh."

   "Uh-huh." Jacob was bent over, hands on his knees, listening and
watching.

   "This alone would have killed him," I continued.  "But you see how long
it takes?  Right after you put the spear into him he fought like he hadn't
even been hurt and he still almost got you.  You see how dangerous a
wounded opponent can be?  Never let down your guard!"

   The boy nodded.  "Uh-huh."

   "Check this out." I pointed to the slit wound in the chest.  "Remember
how he tried to turn away when you did it?  That was fear, Jacob.  The kid
was brave enough while he fought, but at the end he was scared.  He had to
know he was dead.  You had beaten him.  All you were trying to give him was
a clean finish to put him out of his pain, but fear betrayed him and he
couldn't take it."

   I turned my head to stare at the boy.  "Don't you ever do that, Jacob. I
couldn't bear it if you did."

   "I won't, Joe." Wide-eyed, Jacob shook his head solemnly.

   "You're my warrior," I told him.  "I don't care how scared you get,
don't ever let your opponents see it.  If you have to take the blade push
yourself onto it!  Take hold and pull it all the way in!  Show your courage
at the end!  Don't ever let them say you flinched!  Understand?"

   The boy nodded.  "Uh-huh."

   Pointing to the puncture wound in the Mexican kid's upper stomach I
rubbed my gloved hand over it.  "This is what I mean.  See this?  Like I
say, he was dead the moment you did this, but he kept fighting.  He kept
coming after you.  That was courage, that's where he showed well.  If an
opponent ever gets a weapon into your body and you know you're dead I don't
want you backing off from it!  Take the spear deep!  Let it go in all the
way and strike back!  Take your opponent down and kill him first!  If
you're dead, you're dead.  Every warrior dies in the end.  Remember what
Conan said?  Do you want to live forever?  Take your opponent down with a
killing stroke and have the glory of victory as you go!"

   Jacob's eyes were shining and when I held a fist he touched it with his
own.  "How does it feel to be the winner, kid?  It's a rush, isn't it?"

   He nodded fiercely and we exchanged fist punches again.

   With my gloved hand I stroked the body in front of me and then took
Estaban's arms and crossed them over his chest.  "The kid was pretty
brave," I said.  "I felt bad for him at the end when he punked out."

   Jacob leaned forward peering at the dead boy's groin and then pointed to
the flaccid penis.  "Joe?  How come his doesn't look like mine?"

   I explained to him about circumcision and then pulled back the Mexican
kid's foreskin to show Jacob the almond shaped tip.  The boy stared
curiously and when he glanced at me I nodded saying, "It's okay.  That
part's clean enough."

   He reached out to touch the dead boy, rubbing and then pulling the
foreskin back and forth to examine the tip himself.  "That's cool."

   "I like yours better," I told him.  He grinned and then brushed a
fingertip over the dead boy's tuft of pubic hair.

   "Am I gonna' get hair like that?"

   "Yeah.  Pretty soon, too, I think, the way you're growing."

   He considered this, not sure if he liked it or not and then helped me
wrap the body in the plastic tarp.  Once this was done we turned off the
lights and then I checked outside.

   "Okay," I told the boy and carrying his over mantle Jacob trotted the
few steps to the van, climbing quickly into the passenger seat.  After
opening the sliding panel door, I got Estaban's wrapped body, carried it
out and pushed it into the back and then locked up.  A few moments later we
were on the highway.

   Jacob was beginning to come down off the cocaine and he slid over to
lean against me wanting to be held and petted.  His sturdy body was
trembling a little and I slid my palm on him tenderly as the late afternoon
sun coming through the windows turned his smooth silky skin to gold.

   "Joe?" He said, twisting to put his hand on my thigh and rub it.

   "Yeah?"

   "You're proud of me, aren't you?"

   "Prouder than any man is of any boy in this world!" My arm was around
him and I gave his shoulders a squeeze.  Jacob squirmed in that way he had
when what I had said made him happy, and then he cuddled against me.

   "That was like so awesome."

   "Yeah, wasn't it?" I squeezed him again.

   "Uh-huh.  I didn't think I could do it."

   With a smile I caressed the warm satin of his taut flank and said in
mock indignation, "You mean after all the training you and I have done, you
really thought that kid could take you?  Geez!  Some faith you've got in
me!"

   Jacob squirmed again, this time in embarrassment.  "Uh-uh, you teach
like the best!  I just thought like maybe I'd be no good!"

   "You're the best, kid," I said, stroking him.  "You're my little
champion.  I knew it from the very first day."

   "You did!"

   "Believe it."

   He contemplated this happily while I negotiated the Saturday evening
traffic, and then after a while I heard, "Winning is so awesome, Joe."

   "Makes you want more, doesn't it?"

   "Uh-huh."

   There was another pause, then, "Joe?"

   "Yup."

   Jacob rubbed his fingers on me.  "If I like get deaded...  Don't let the
other kid kill me.  I want you to do it."

   It was the first time he had used the word 'kill' and I patted him
gently.  "If the other kid kills you clean on one shot there won't be much
I can do."

   The boy shook his head.  "I mean like if I get like stabbed up and
everything.  Like with the spear in my tummy."

   "Okay, I see what you mean." My palm rubbed gently on his arm.  "I
promise.  I won't let the other kid do it."

   "Don't let it hurt," Jacob pleaded and this brought a lump to my throat
that I had to swallow away.

   "It won't.  I swear."

   "An' don't..." The boy squirmed again.  "Don't let it be like all smelly
and bad like...  like..."

   "Like the kid you just beat?"

   "Uh-huh." He turned his head gazing up at me, eyes wide and staring -
and at that moment I knew what he would look like when he was dead.

   "I won't, I promise.  I'll fix it so that won't happen."

   "For real?"

   "For real.  I swear."

   This seemed to comfort him and he settled against me in contentment for
the rest of the drive home.

   When we reached the house I told Jacob to go get a shower but he tugged
at my arm.  "Aren't you coming?"

   "I gotta' take care of this other thing first."

   He would not go without me, nor would he sit on the universal bench
where I told him to wait, but instead hung around while I brought in the
weapons and then watched me take the Mexican kid's wrapped body out of the
van and stuff it into the big freezer under the stairs.

   "Don't somebody want him back, Joe?"

   "Not if he's a loser.  It's our cage, so we gotta' take care of him."

   Jacob stared over the edge of the freezer at the curled up form in the
plastic tarp until I closed the lid.

   "If I get deaded, you'll want me back, won't you?" He looked up
anxiously.

   "Of course I will."

   I got down on one knee beside him.  "If that happens I won't let anyone
touch you but me!  I swear!  Don't you worry about it.  Just keep winning
for me and be my brave champion!  I'm so proud of you!"

   He slipped an arm around me to hug and I patted his butt, then got up
and led him to his room.  "You need a shower.  And I'm heading right in
there with you."

   He wanted to be taken in the shower, one of the few times I ever did him
that way, with him leaning against the tiles, hot water cascading over us
as I thrust up into him, his young body twisting and arching.  Then he was
tugging and grinding against me even before I had him dried off wanting it
again, but I made him stand still while I did a thorough job of dressing
the tear from the javelin tip on his hip, covering it with a waterproof
bandage.

   Once this was done Jacob pulled himself to me for a long damp kiss,
squirming to rub his rigid quivering penis on my thigh, but still I made
him wait, taking him upstairs for a steak supper (his favorite), a salad
(his least favorite) and the rare treat of ice cream, all he could eat,
which was an indulgence he got on only the most special of occasions.

   For an additional treat, because this was a celebration, I also let him
snort another vial of cocaine.  Then with the excited boy wiggling in my
arms, I carried him naked to the pool.

   By then it was dark enough so that even without all the privacy
arrangements we could still have used the the lights, but I switched them
and we swam in a soft early fall night that brought a mist rising off the
warm water.  I tossed Jacob over and over again, something he delighted in
and always begged for, and then entered him several times beneath the water
before lifting him to the pool deck and taking him once more on a thick
cushion from one of the lounge chairs.

   The boy's hard slender body writhed beneath me and as he stared upward
into the night sky, arched with passion, mouth opened wide in ecstasy, I
was struck by the way his stare resembled the Mexican kid's fixed gaze of
death.  Jacob's legs jerked, kicking with the throbs pulsing within him and
he pulled at me until the full length of my hardness was thrust deep inside
him.

   We watched a movie, "Commando", which Jacob liked but I was indifferent
about.  But I pretended enthusiasm because this was his night and I wanted
it to be whatever he wanted.  He fell asleep during "The Last Action Hero",
exhaustion claiming him at last, but later I was awakened by him clinging
and rubbing himself against me while he begged for it again.  Positioning
the boy on his side I stretched out behind him, and then slid my stiff rod
up his rectum, locking my groin against the glossy mounds of his butt with
the two of us nested like spoons.  For over an hour I pumped my hips,
sliding in the boy, rubbing his jutting little erection and stroking his
silky body as pulsing throbs rippled through him, jerking spasms of
immature release that came over and over again, until last he went limp in
my arms, head lolling like a broken doll's, as if it were he and not the
Mexican kid that had been killed in their fight.

   After that he slept soundly at last, huddled against me, a leg pulled up
on mine and an arm across my chest.  In the morning I let him sleep long
past breakfast time and made a brunch for him when he finally did awake,
telling him it was a holiday and he might do whatever he wanted.

   Leaving him happily enthroned amid pillows on his bed, playing a
favorite video game, I drove the pickup truck over to a big chain store
where I purchased mop, bucket and other supplies.  Then I went to the
warehouse for the grim task of cleanup.

   The passage of nearly eighteen hours had not improved things.  Inside
there was a smell like a slaughterhouse and flies were everywhere.  With
bucket after bucket of clean water from the mop closet I did the initial
scrubbing, which seemed to take forever because the blood had congealed
into a sticky crusty mass.  Once the floor was clean I refilled the bucket
with disinfectant and scrubbed everything down before going home to give
Jacob something to eat while the cage floor dried.

   Returning later in the afternoon, I scrubbed down with bleach, first
wiping the mesh of the cage - a finicky tedious job - and then cleaning
floor, mop, bucket, and mop closet sink with gallons of the stuff.  When I
was done the flies were gone and the space was ready for use again. 
Leaving the cleaning equipment in the mop closet I locked up, making a
mental note to return in a few days with the air freshener.

   The remaining task was disposal of the Mexican kid's body, but it was a
week before that got done because at first I was busy easing Jacob back
into our routine.  For awhile he was more dependent than usual, desperately
seeking praise and attention which I gave freely, and then gradually he
returned to his normal happy self with the growing pride and confidence
that I enjoyed seeing in him so much.  It was only then that I felt able to
take time off for the disposal of Estaban's body.

   Having done some reading on the subject I knew there was no easy way to
get rid of human remains, and of all the known methods burial was nearly
always the simplest and best solution.  Burial was time-consuming and it
required hard physical labor with pick and shovel to dig a grave of proper
depth, but even though there had been no new stories, which probably meant
Estaban's disappearance had gone unreported, I did not want to leave his
body around for anyone to find.  Skipping the tedious effort of digging a
grave for him was not even an option.

   It had been surprisingly difficult to find good out-of-the-way locations
where a grave could be excavated without attracting attention or
encountering tree roots, obstructing bedrock, or a hundred other
complications.  Taking all this into consideration I studied maps on the
Internet, scouted various areas and then one morning gave Jacob the day off
and once he was settled in his room with the video games, carried the dead
kid's stiff frozen body out to the van and spent the rest of the day
getting the job done.

   I unwrapped the boy at the site so he would thaw enough to be stretched
out reverently in the grave when I was done.  By then, even kept in the
freezer, he was not a pretty sight, but as I had told Jacob, that was not
his fault, and I saw him again in my mind's eye standing next to me in the
kitchen gazing in wonder out through the glass doors at the sparkling pool,
dreaming that he might somehow be fortunate enough to win what I had
offered and already determined to give himself to me.

   I was reluctant to kiss the mottled face, but after stretching the body
out in the bottom of the trench I stroked it a few times in a last
farewell. We had been lovers, however briefly, and though I was glad Jacob
had won, I felt sorrow for this boy who had wanted everything so much but
lost.

   Taking a deep breath I climbed up out of the grave and began to fill it,
trying not to look as my shovelfulls of dirt hit Estaban's body.  I found
it easier to finish once he was out of sight.  Finally, I drew leaves and
dead brush over the site, picked up the tools and drove off, disposing of
the plastic tarp in a dumpster on my way back home.

   That night I lay with Jacob, holding the sleeping boy in my arms after
he had let me take him again and again.  As I stroked his silky warmth,
listening to the soft breathing, I wondered how I would be able to bear it
when his own time came.
   ------------------- End of Chapter Three -------------------