Jack the Hammer: Stallions Massacre Part 2

I am excited to share a brand new series written by my good buddy Dissonant Murmur. The first 12 Chapters will feature 'The Morecock Stallions Wrestling Team' and a brand new villian 'Jack the Hammer'. More chapters to come as the slaughter spills beyond the campground. 
As with the other stories on this site, they are NSFW, explicit and contain extreme horror and gore. They are purely fiction and we do not condone acting out anything contained within, in real life! If this is not your bag, do not continue. 
The series currently does not contain images but if anyone would like to share artwork in the future, please reach out.  Feedback and comments welcome below.  

Eat the Rich

Geoffrey checked his phone for the millionth time and grinned. He could finally get out of here. He did a quick glance at the mirror to make sure his dirty blond hair was in place before quietly leaving his bedroom and slowly walking down the moonlit hall. His bag was slung over his shoulder, carefully packed to prevent any noise. Even his clothes had been chosen specifically for his escape. A dark blue cotton shirt strained to contain his thick pectorals but only whispered while his muscular body crept across the carpeted floor. Black shorts barely hid the jock’s firm round butt and heavy swinging package, but they were equally quite.

Geoffrey was not going to stick around for this horseshit of a team weekend. Hell, he did not even care about college. Everyone knew he was inheriting his dad’s business, but his father and bitch of a step-mother wanted him to have some “real world” experience and other stupid shit. Fuck that! Wrestling was about the only area at school where he actually bothered to make an effort, and the only things he liked about wrestling was dominating his opponents and having a stage to show off his great body in front of a crowd. The rest of his team and the coaches could go fuck themselves. Geoffrey had arranged for his girlfriend, Laurene, to drive to the retreat and pick him up tonight. Right now she should be waiting just down the road. Instead of wasting this weekend on some dumb teamwork exercises, Geoffrey was about to take his girl to a nice hotel and fuck her until she could not walk.

He had already planned out the rest of his escape a few minutes after arriving. Not far from the kitchen there was a delivery door that opened right onto a service road. Some chewed gum had kept the door’s electronic lock from securing, so all Geoffrey had to do was sneak past the bedrooms and walk out the door to freedom. His big dick was already growing down his short’s leg in preparation for its fuck session. Even after jerking off with the team a few hours ago, he had a really bad case of blue balls. Fuck, he might make Laurene give him a quick blowjob in the car when they meet up because he did not think he could wait until they got to the hotel.

The wrestler turned off the hall into the dining room. No sign of discovery yet, and by the time anyone checked the cameras he would be long gone. Geoffrey smiled at how easy this all was. Like everything else in life, he got what he wanted eventually. The dining room tables were neatly lined up with an open row leading directly to the kitchen. He carefully pulled open the heavy door separating the kitchen and dining room. The kitchen was darker than the rest of the resort. There were no windows, and the walls were thicker and better insulated to prevent any noise from disturbing the guests. However Geoffrey had memorized the layout. The exit would be just at the end of the hall beyond the ovens. A few more feet were all the separated Geoffrey from freedom.

That is when the young stud noticed something weird. The door to the pantry was open. The doors in the kitchen were large wooden panels designed to look like something made by rugged pioneers. They would not have been nudged open by some breeze. He peaked inside but saw nothing amiss. He could barely see shelves stocked with dry goods lining the walls. Had one of the coaches been checking on the food and forgotten to close the door? Geoffrey paused for a second, listening. He could not hear anything. Maybe a soft breeze. Wait, he froze in shock, a breeze?

Geoffrey quietly slipped past the pantry and turned the corner to see the door to the outside was open. A light cool breeze caressed his skin while he stared at the road beyond. He could feel his sweat cooling him off as thoughts of the coaches setting him up raced through his head. Had they known all this time? Was one of them waiting to grab him when he walked out? But why leave the door open? As some kind of prank played on him? He could see Liam doing something like that, but the coaches would never…

He felt the slight shift in the air as much as he heard the noise of someone walking towards him. However the person was not outside. No, they were behind him. 

Geoffrey wheeled around and stopped. He had expected one of the coaches or maybe even a teammate, but what he saw instead was much worse. In the dim moonlight, he could make out a large figure. They were taller than the jock and wore baggy work clothes, thick canvas pants, an equally heavy shirt, and a rough, long-sleeved coat that did not quite disguise how muscular the body beneath was. Their skin was covered in black charred flesh. The face looked like a carnival mask with a twisted grimace of pain permanently etched in scar tissue. Only the eyes really seemed living. Geoffrey could not truly make out the expression in those eyes, but he knew on some deep instinctual level that the intelligence behind the animalistic gaze wanted to destroy him. The stare was not one of an opponent on the mat or an angry fratboy whose girl he had taken. These eyes belonged to a predator watching his prey.

Geoffrey did what came naturally. He turned around and made his escape. The athlete sprinted down the hall at a speed even he did not think possible, which meant he had no time to react when he saw the rope stretched across the exit. 

“Ugck!” the jock gurgled as his neck was smashed against the rope. His head snapped back while his larynx was crushed. The sudden stop shoved his teeth closed causing him to bite into his tongue. His legs kept going forward, and the wrestler found himself flat on his back. Geoffrey tried to scream for help, but his damaged voice box meant that only a hoarse rasp emerged from his throat. Then the killer was upon him.

The killer raised the jock’s head and slammed it back against the floor. The stunned jock saw stars swimming in his vision and did not realize he was being dragged backwards for several critical seconds. By the time he understood what was happening, the killer had pulled him into the kitchen. Geoffrey struggled against his captor, but his uncoordinated flailing merely slowed the killer’s progress. Finally, the wrestler managed to grab the killer’s jacket only to discover the killer’s hands head reached around his neck and begun to squeeze. As the pain burned through his injured neck Geoffrey tried to hold onto consciousness, but soon things felt so far away. A part of him knew he had to stay awake. He knew he should be trying to fight, yet he could not figure out the reason why. Geoffrey decided it must not be too important, so he let go. He felt the pressure release from his neck and then his body was lifted up onto a table. As he regained a sense of what was going on, he could feel each of his limbs getting stretched out and tied with ropes to nearby shelves. Then there was a blinding brightness when the killer flipped the light switch.

Geoffrey’s head was just clearing when he felt the knife slide against his neck. An adrenaline spike quickly returned him to full consciousness. He could not believe this was happening. Any moment now his teammates would jump out and laugh, right? This was another dumb prank Liam or the coaches had thought up, but nobody showed themselves when the killer sliced through Geoffrey’s shirt and ripped the shreds away.

Geoffrey shaved his upper body, so nothing hid his large, rounded muscles as they strained against his captor’s bindings. He was proud of his strength and of how good he looked, but he was the one who decided when he would show off. He loved watching the crowd for reactions when he would pull down the top of his singlet. Some bitches would nearly faint at the sight of his perfectly proportioned muscles. So many would swoon when he gave a grin and a quick flex. Knowing they were getting wet while taking in his amazing self was always a huge turn on, but he was the one in control then. Now the scarred killer stared at the wrestler’s muscular body with undisguised lust. 

Geoffrey’s large biceps and triceps bulged and twisted in a fruitless attempt at escape. Broad shoulders pushed against the table. His thick pectoral muscles were topped with quarter-sized nipples capped with peaks that looked like they could cut glass. The cleft between his pecs soon dropped into a deep divide that separated sculpted abdominal muscles. The knife followed the divide and teasingly dipped into the jock’s inward curved bellybutton before running beneath his shorts. The jock froze when the blade slipped under the waistband until with a loud tear his shorts were cut off and tossed onto the floor.

The skin was only slightly less tan here thanks to frequent skinny dipping in his family’s pool. His closely trimmed pubes were darker than the hair on his head and did nothing to hide a thick pink cock that even soft was bigger than most men’s erections. His well muscled thighs normally framed his dick and the big plump balls beneath, but with his legs spread his generous endowments were vulnerably accessible. The wrestler’s meaty ass and legs flexed as he tried to pull back from the killer at his feet who yanked off the jock’s shoes. The killer grabbed Geoffrey’s right foot and held it appraisingly as if measuring its dimensions. The now fully naked jock could only watch and be very aware of how powerless he was at the moment. Finally, the killer leg go of Geoffrey’s foot and moved over to the shelf. He quickly returned with a large bowl containing something the wrestler could not identify. 

"Hey, get the fuck away from me!" Geoffrey rasped, his voice barely audible even to himself, but the killer grabbed a handful of the stuff and slathered it onto the jock’s muscular chest.

Whatever that shit was, the thick liquid actually felt pretty good when the masked figure began massaging it into his skin. A comfortable warmth spread everywhere the stuff touched. It even smelled good too. Like honey and spices. If he had not bitten his tongue earlier, his mouth would probably be watering. Soon the stuff had been thoroughly rubbed across his pecs and then down lower. His six pack abs were each targeted as were the rippling lines of his obliques before the killer moved on to the wrestler’s arms. Geoffrey had to stifle a laugh when his sensitive armpits were coated, but his struggles increased even more when the killer started working on his arms. The big mounds of his deltoids, biceps, and triceps were carefully coated and massaged no matter how much he pulled at the ropes holding him in place. His tree-trunk thick thighs were no better at escaping the patient rubdown, and the killer must have noticed how ticklish his armpits had been, because he seemed to enjoy teasing the soles of Geoffrey’s big feet.

Geoffrey twisted his body back and forth to get away, but all he accomplished was make his now glistening muscles flex in the harsh artificial light. The big spoiled jock was embarrassed by how ticklish he was, yet he was even more embarrassed by how much his cock was enjoying the ordeal. Geoffrey's thick dick was quickly hardening despite the young man’s predicament. Soon the heavy shaft was towering over Geoffrey's rippling waist to point at his shining pecs. The killer had been watching the growing manhood’s progress but had saved the hunk's manmeat for last. Now the killer ensured every inch of the virile stud’s sack was coated. The wrestler’s heavy balls were repeatedly rolled and squeezed until the pleasant warmth was almost a burning sensation. Then the hands moved up to the wrestler's arching cannon. Geoffrey could not stop the low moans from his throat as his cock was slowly covered. One of the killer’s large rough hands could not quite encircle the jock’s manhood, but two in coordination steadily worked their way from the cock’s root to its mushroom head. Each new touch elicited a gasp, and the youth's already large erection expanded further and turned from a light pink color to a deep red. Even after the killer left to work on something beyond Geoffrey’s sight, the stud's cock kept twitching and oozing precum. Rivers of manjuice were soon drooling onto his stomach and running down the cobblestone edifice of Geoffrey's abs.

The scarred killer returned with a clear plastic tube with some kind of device. Geoffrey wiggled away, but the killer grabbed the jock’s hardon and rolled the tube over the cock. Even Geoffrey who had never been on a farm realized what this psychopath intended. The killer was going to milk Geoffrey like a prize bull. The killer turned the dial that started the pump and watched.

Immediately Geoffrey's dick lurched inside its clear prison. More precum slurped up through the tube and into the clear plastic jug. His massive bloated balls bounced in their sack. Then it happened again... and again... and again… His muscular body began twitching, and little grunts escaped his clenched teeth. Geoffrey looked down at his cock like it had betrayed him. He was a virile stud and very experienced despite his young age. His dick had bred dozens of girls and women every year since he turned sixteen. He had gone all night with the infamously slutty Marshall twins in a spectacular marathon that only ended after he had flooded both girl’s mouths, cunts, and asses with his jock juice at least once, but he'd never felt anything like this. The oversexed stud tried to hold back. Geoffrey did not want to give in to the killer. However another part of him just wanted to get off. Only a few minutes passed before his shame and fear gave way to desire. His strong arms strained for freedom once more, not to escape but to release the burning liquid pressure building in his loins. The killer turned the dial higher.

Geoffrey’s injured throat released a garbled yell while he spurted load after load into the machine. His big dick expanded with every shot and threatened to split the tube in the process. His hugely muscled thighs quivered in an instinctual attempt to fuck the milking machine. The killer counted seven thick shots of cum, but this was just the beginning. Even as the hunky stud recovered from his fucklust, the killer turned the dial a bit higher. Geoffrey thrashed his strong body with as much force as his ropes allowed, but there was no relieving the relentless, excruciating attack on his cock. More frantic jerking, more muted screams, more heavy loads. 

The once arrogant stud was so focused on his aching manhood that he did not realize the killer had retrieved another tool. His hard abs were unflexed and unprepared when the hammer slammed into the wall of muscle. 

“Uuuffh,” the air was knocked out of him by the heavy blow, but now Geoffrey could see what the killer was holding. A gleaming metal meat tenderizing hammer reflected his pained expression on its silver surface. The rectangular head had a block of spikes on two sides that were expertly crafted to soften the toughest of meats. Geoffrey had spent years building up his strongly muscled body. He had trained and honed every inch of himself until his gorgeous form looked like it was carved in stone. His knew his heroic musculature was fit for a god, but despite his arrogance he was no god and his flesh was not stone.

The killer ran the hammer across Geoffrey’s face. The cold metal rubbed against the handsome young man’s nose and over his trembling lips. The killer kept moving down while dragging the hammer over the incredibly defined muscles of the jock’s torso. Even lower the hammer ran besides the trapped cock. The killer teased with the still full balls for a second. Geoffrey could feel the icy weight of the hammer on his precious orbs, but just as Geoffrey was certain the killer was going to destroy his manhood, the hammer slid lower down the legs. Then the killer smashed his foot.

Geoffrey tried to howl as the strike dislocated some toes on his left foot, but the killer was only getting started. A second hit smashed his right foot. Another string of hits tore into his feet until they were badly bruised. The killer started moving higher. The thick leg muscles Geoffrey used to anchor himself on the mat were marvels of athletic achievement and nothing but more meat to the hammer. There was no pattern to these hits. The killer seemed to simply relish the feel of the jock’s hard body being beaten. 

“Please, no more!” Geoffrey hoarsely begged as best he could through the pain. “I’m rich. I can get you money, drugs, girls, whatever you want. Just let me go!”

The killer stopped. The face never changed expressions, but Geoffrey could feel the malevolent focus in the killer’s body language. The killer walked up towards Geoffrey’s head and place a hand on the wrestler’s bicep. The hand gently probed the arm muscle as if admiring the combination of soft skin on the surface and firm strength beneath. 

“Oh, thank you,” Geoffrey said, thinking the killer was going to untie his arm. “I promise you can have...”

With a dull whack, the killer slammed the hammer down onto his pecs. The mounds of iron-honed muscles flattened under the impact and rebounded just in time for another strike. The next blows came in rapid succession. Each hit slightly but surely tore into the muscle beneath and separated the striated flesh. Little drops of blood started appearing where the spikes dug in deep enough to pierce the skin. The pain and force of blows were so great that Geoffrey could not even find the breath to scream, and while the steady assault continued, the machine again robbed him of more seed.

Geoffrey flexed his muscles as best he could to protect himself, but his attempts to toughen his body only encouraged the killer. Again and again the killer hammered the heroically proportioned chest. Each time Geoffrey’s incredibly strong muscles resisted the blows a little less. Soon the once hard muscles of his pectorals had the consistency of hamburger meat. Where the athlete used to have perfectly shaped ovals now hung bleeding bags of mushy flesh. The killer moved down with obvious glee and began hammering the jock’s rippling six pack abs and obliques. Not an ounce of unnecessary fat hid the lines of muscle stretched across a lower torso that put to shame those of the Greek gods, yet like the rest of his body, those hard won abs Geoffrey had spent so much effort perfecting were not divine. They were vulnerable flesh and blood.

The killer attacked each of the six defined sections of the jock’s six pack with individual blows. Strike by strike, each portion of once hard muscle was weakened and ground down. Sticky jockjuice still filled the etched wells of Geoffrey’s incredibly tight abdominal muscles. The once trapped precum was now pink with blood and splattered freely about his body. The wrestler’s laddered obliques were not spared either, as the killer would regularly switch to Geoffrey’s sides with equal zeal. In only a few minutes Geoffrey no longer had a six pack. The jock’s once seemingly diamond hard abs had been smashed into a bruised, slightly distended belly as the internal rips started pooling blood in his once tight muscles.

"STOP! Please stop..." the young wrestler rasped, tears streamed down his cheeks while he looked down his badly damaged body to see yet more cum being drained from his overworked cock. He had lost track of how many times he had been forced to blow his load, but even a fit, young, and virile stud like Geoffrey had limits. The wrestler's balls were shrunken husks of their former glory. Once mammoth testicles had been reduced to the size of peas. His cock was still erect and quivering but had lost its former steely hardness. Now the purple swollen organ pitifully shivered under the machine’s incessant suction. 

The killer seemed to consider his request then moved between the stud’s muscular legs. His captor inspected Geoffrey's cock and balls but moved his hand down towards the stud's meaty ass. His fingers pressed between the round globes, probing and preparing. Geoffrey had never had his asshole penetrated before, and for a brief moment the experience took his mind off the pain emanating from his broken body. His cock even halfheartedly rallied when his captor’s fingers discovered the stud’s prostate. The new feelings in his virgin ass were strange but not too painful. Suddenly the killer pressed even harder, turning the almost pleasurable sensation into something much less enjoyable. Geoffrey groaned in fear and pain, but his resistance excited the monster. With hard, deliberate movements, the killer finger raped the young wrestler’s virgin butt. Geoffrey felt like he was being split in half. 

The killer carefully hit the stud's prostate. This motion was not about making the suffering wrestler enjoy the experience, though Geoffrey felt shocks of pleasure through the even greater pain. Instead the killer was focused on coaxing out the last drop of the stud’s once enormous store of sperm. The killer’s fingers stabbed again and again at the jock’s hidden sex organ until Geoffrey thrust upwards and gurgled as the killer succeeded in coaxing out a few drops more from the lad’s exhausted cock.

Geoffrey’s hips gave out, and his beefy ass collapsed against the table and the killer’s hand. The former stud had given all he had. He lay there quietly gasping. His beaten body was coated in sweat, blood, and the killer’s concoction. There was no attempt to escape. No strength was left in his remaining muscles. He was unable to do anything more than shudder against the continued assault. The killer pushed more fingers into the jock’s ass and reached over to the machine.

"Please... no more," Geoffrey softly pleaded just before the killer turned the dial to full and shoved the rest of his hand into the wrestler’s torn asshole.

Geoffrey eyes rolled back and mouth opened in a silent scream. The former hunk's rod pulsed repeatedly, but there was nothing left for his poor cock to give. Not even a single pitiful drop emerged from his weakly throbbing dick, but the machine never quit. The killer’s hand balled into a fist and twisted back and forth repeatedly. Blood flowed freely while Geoffrey’s prostate was pulped under the assault. Geoffrey felt the horrible pain and knew he would never be able to produce any more cum ever again. The pain only grew when without ceremony the killer removed his hand from the jock’s destroyed asshole and grabbed the base of Geoffrey’s cock and balls. His other hand appeared with a knife. With a firm yank, he pulled the former stud’s balls up and sliced them off. Geoffrey screamed as loudly as his damaged throat allowed, but he could do nothing more than watch as the killer shut off the machine and cut off his badly damaged cock. The killer tossed the severed cock and balls into a tray and turned back to his dying victim. 

Geoffrey’s face had turned ashen from pain and blood loss, and he could barely see from his tearing eyes. The killer wasted no time in cutting the ropes that bound the jock and flipping him onto his stomach. Geoffrey could feel more of the spicy liquid being slathered across his back and butt. Despite being largely unharmed, his limbs barely had the power to twitch, so the wrestler could not offer any resistance when the killer tied his limbs together like he was a trussed pig. More spicy liquid was poured over his head, and the thick goo burned his cuts and eyes as the killer rubbed the stuff into his hair and skin. 

Then the killer unlocked the table’s wheels and rolled it to the oven. Marinade, the jock finally realized, the psychotic murder had marinaded him and was going to cook him. Geoffrey tried to scream as the killer shoved him into the already hot oven, but he had no voice left and soon no breath either. The oven door shut, and the temperature grew even hotter. The marinade burned against his skin but kept his supple flesh moist and prevented charring. The jock tried to use the less damaged muscles of his biceps and thighs to press against the twine roping, but here too there was not enough strength left. An hour ago he could have broken free with little effort, but now his damaged, bloody body could barely move at all.

The air was very hot. Geoffrey gagged for breath, but he could never seem to get enough air. Geoffrey gasped more and more as his damaged body tried to get oxygen and cool down. He started seeing his teammates coming by to cheer him up. The hallucinations told him how delicious he tasted while they ate his amazing flesh. They thanked him donating his body to help them get bigger and stronger. Girls he had fucked laughed at the bleeding wound where his cock had been. His father and stepmother congratulated him for finally doing something useful with his life. His broken mind kept imagining humiliations until at last Geoffrey’s big, muscular young body shuddered a final time then collapsed. Totally still. Dead.

The killer looked on for a period. His expression was unreadable, but there was a sense of satisfaction. He began searching the remains of Geoffrey’s clothes until the dead jock’s phone was revealed. A text from some slut asked if Geoffrey was ready yet. The scarred face twisted into something like a smile, and the killer carefully typed out a response about how he had changed his mind about the weekend getaway. This was the perfect opportunity. Then the killer started cleaning. He did not want to scare away the rest of the group. He had to be careful because he had many things planned for every last one of these arrogant studs.