I am Crazy Wolf a Sioux brave of 20 summers and proud of my lithe and sinewy copper bronzed body. My black braided hair is held by a leather band and I wear only a hide loincloth and moccasins. This summer day I have been sent to spy on the movements of our enemy, the Crow tribe. I wear red and yellow war paint on my prominent cheek bones, arms, chest and belly and have an eagle feather in my head band. I am armed with a sheathed knife, bow and quivered arrows.
I ride my coloured war pony to about a mile from the Crow village that I am to watch and proceed to make my way there on foot so I can remain hidden from view. I only get about half way when I see some movement ahead and can make out the forms of three Crow braves below a rocky outcrop. I stealthily make my way to a point above them to observe what they are doing. There are three young braves between 17 and 19 summers who are clad in a similar fashion to myself and they do not have ponies nearby so must have walked here from their village. All three have knives and I cannot see any other weapons nearby. They are unaware of my presence as they are busy wrestling each other with drawn knives. I watch as they pin each other to the ground, their squirming agile bodies locked in mock knife combat. The loser always receiving a feign knife stab to their belly as they clutch at their guts and writhe, all three with noticeable bulges in their loincloths. As I lay on my belly looking down at them I too am getting a tingling in my manhood and yearn to join in this fun but know they would kill me, their sworn enemy, on sight. I think of killing them with my bow and arrows but cannot risk one getting away to alert their village.
Just then I am aware of a noise from behind me and as I turn another young Crow is springing at me, puma like, with his knife drawn. Before I can draw my own knife he is atop of me trying to bury his blade into my chest. I now find myself not in a mock knife fight but in a deadly struggle for survival against a young and fit adversary. As the Crow tenses to deliver a fatal stab to my chest I can feel his abdominals flexing against mine. His dark eyes burning into mine as he snarls down at me with the hatred he has for his enemy. As I try to prevent his blade entering my chest I use both hands to stop its descent, then he suddenly transfers his left arm to across my throat. But instead of trying to stop him choking me I quickly move my right hand down towards my sheathed knife. The Crow, suddenly realising I now have hold of my knife, turns his whole body to reach for my knife hand but in so doing exposes his taught belly to the tip of my blade now being driven across my belly towards his. Just as his defensive hand makes contact with mine it is too late as my knife enters his outie belly button with a >Spflitttt< and he cries out “Eaaarrrggghhh!!” I quickly pull my knife out and stab again deep into his belly meat, “Aiiyeeee!!” I twist my blade into his navel as his hot blood pulses onto my belly and, as he rolls onto the ground belly up, I take my blade out and stab a third time down into his bloody outie navel and he writhes and becomes still.
Before I can even think of my next action I am being grabbed from behind with a muscled forearm around my throat and my knife arm being bent behind my back with such force and pain that I am forced to let it go. I am now made to get up onto my knees with my body arched backwards, exposing my own flexed abdominals to what must surely be the knife of one of the three young Crows I had been observing. Just then the other two appear in front of me with their knives levelled at me. With the one holding me from behind the other two stare at me, their eyes seem to follow every contour of my body. Then they look at their dead tribal brother and one kneels down by his side and touches the bloody belly wounds. With his fingers coated in blood he rises and comes right up to me and smears the blood over my flexed abdominals, lingering at my navel. I am then forced up onto my feet and then all four of us make our way back down to where the mock fights had been held.
The three Crows then set about binding me to a large boulder with a rope wrapped around my neck and then around the boulder with my arms stretched out and also secured to this rope. The boulder is rounded and as I struggle my flexing abdominal muscles are again arched forwards exposing my vitals to my enemy. Once I am secured the three stand just out of earshot chattering to each other while glancing back at me. Then they approach me with each unsheathing their knives and I recite a shaman chant to accept my spirit. The oldest one comes up to me first and says, “Sioux enemy how are you known?” I reply, “Crazy Wolf!” He says, “Crazy Wolf should know who brings death to Crow enemy. I am Tall Elk and my Crow brothers are Running Bear and White Eagle. We shall each kill our enemy by drawing your blood”. Tall Elk then presses his body against mine and brings his knife up and onto my outie navel which make me suck my belly in. His left nipple is rubbing against my right nipple as he pushes the point of his knife around the rim of my navel and, as he does so, I feel a hardness against my loincloth from his growing manhood. He then jabs the sharp point of his knife into my navel just enough to draw blood as I cry out “Urrrggghhh!” and squirm against him which seems to excite him more as he presses his loins firmly against me. To my surprise he steps aside, the hardness of his manhood clearly visible under his loincloth. Now Running Bear then presses his lean body against me and as his knife tip runs down my abdominal channel he sneers into my face, his dark brown eyes without feeling. As his blade approaches my navel he pushes it deeper into my skin, drawing blood which makes me wince. He too is clearly stimulated by this stabbing action at my belly. As he also steps aside the youngest, White Eagle, presses his lean defined belly against mine and stares into my eyes but I see a warmth within his gaze. Suddenly Tall Elk barks, “ Use your knife!” White Eagle then rolls his torso slightly off me and brings his knife tip up to my navel and plays it around my outie which excites us both as I feel our manhoods press firmly against each other through our loincloths. “Blood! exclaims Tall Elk as White Eagle’s blade cuts into my belly to draw fresh blood. As I feel White Eagle rhythmically pushing his loins into mine he is unceremoniously pulled away by Tall Elk.
I can now see this stabbing at their real enemy’s belly excites them and, unexpectedly, for me too but this situation is deadly and I must survive it. I say to Tall Elk, “Crow scared of real knife fight with Sioux! Crow keep knife but untie Crazy Wolf to feel like real fight”. Tall Elk thinks awhile and says, “yes, Crow kill Sioux better, Tall Elk kill Crazy Wolf”. With that Running Bear uses his knife to cut my bindings and says, “Sioux no win or Sioux die!” I now get what that means but for how long will they play this game before I, their true enemy, die for real?!
Running Bear pulls my loincloth away from my waistband and pushes me towards Tall Elk who is now also only wearing a waistband with sheathed knife attached. His manhood is rigid and seems to point his enemy out. I tell myself I must go with what is about to happen before I take action. Tall Elk, knife in hand, suddenly rushes at me but I let him bring his knife to my exposed belly. As his knife tip feigns a stabbing action on my lower abdominals I make a guttural moaning sound and squirm my body and manhood against his. This excites him so much that as we stand in close mock combat with his knife ‘stabbing’ at my belly with our cocks having their own fight, his body suddenly spasms as he releases his man seed over my lower belly. I now take action before he recovers by rapidly grasping at his knife and turn it towards his own belly. Just as the blade is about to enter his deep navel he counters my thrust and tries to turn the blade back towards my abdominals. Out of the corner of my eye I see Running Bear unsheathing his own knife and know I will die unless……. I bring my left hand straight up in a hard jabbing action at Tall Elk’s throat which makes his grip on the knife weaker and then I force the knife tip into his deep belly button >Spffllitt< “Urrrggghhh!!”. As I pull the knife from his guts he clutches at his belly but I have no time to follow through and, as I spin around, Running Bear is on me, our defensive hands clutching at the others knife hand. His face is snarling into mine as he growls, “Running Bear rip open belly of Crazy Wolf for real!” As I wrestle with Running Bear my eyes try to search out White Eagle but I cannot see him. I see we are near a large boulder and I suddenly push back against Running Bear causing his back to hit against the boulder, stunning him. I waste no time and thrust my knife deep into his lower abdominals just above his waist band and twist the blade into his viscera as he screams out, “Eaaarrrggghhh!!” I then rapidly stab into his belly three more times >Spffllitt< >Spffllitt< >Spffllitt< “Aiiyeeee!!” Before I can turn I am grabbed from behind by a bronzed forearm putting me in a choke hold. My instincts kick in and I stab my knife backwards and, as I do, I hear “Urrrggghhh!!” in my ear and feel the warmth of blood on my lower back as I am released from the choke hold. I spin around to see the young White Eagle clutching his right side with his left hand and holding his knife defensively out at me. As I approach him he staggers backwards, now swiping his knife at me, his young brown eyes showing pain and fear. I then hear a moan from behind me, it is Tall Elk writhing on the ground still clutching at his bleeding belly wound. I leave White Eagle and kneel down by Tall Elk, the blood from his belly colouring his exposed manhood. I push his hands from his belly and place my knife on his abdominals and slowly run it down, over his navel and towards his manhood which makes him squirm. I then stab my knife deep into his navel again, “Eaaarrrggghhh!!” as his whole body spasms and is then still.
Still kneeling I turn my head towards the injured White Eagle. He has now backed himself against a boulder and is still holding his knife defensively out before him. As I rise and approach him he nervously says, “Crazy Wolf no kill White Eagle, we not enemies”. I sheath my knife and continue to approach him. He keeps his knife pointing at me so I start to slowly pull my own knife out of its sheath again which is when he sheaths his knife. I look deep into his eyes and, beyond the fear, I see a warmth and know I cannot take this enemy’s life. I slowly get closer to him but know he could attack just like any wounded animal so am cautious as I show I want to see his wound. He holds his bloodied hand away and I see a deep slice across his right side abdominals but it only cuts into muscle and no viscera is showing. I tell him to stay where he is and go to gather healing plants and water, I also fetch my pony. On returning he lets me treat his wound and takes the water. When his bleeding stops I help him onto my pony and ride him to the outskirts of his village for his people to find and look after him. Before I depart we agree to meet up again when he has recovered. In the months and years to follow we often secretly meet up to act out knife fights and, in the process, become good friends and ‘blood brothers’.
