Neri

Bounty Hunters

Dan Bearhunter's boots thudded heavily against the worn wooden steps of the Boca Caliente saloon, the sound mingling with the raucous laughter and music spilling out from within. He inhaled deeply as he entered, the scent of sweat, whiskey, and tobacco smoke curling around him like a familiar embrace. By his side, Brian Black mirrored his movements, eyes scanning the dimly lit room with the same predatory keenness.

"Stable the horses," Dan growled to a boy who jumped at the command, eager for the coin that would follow.

"Whiskey," Brian barked at the barkeep, slamming down a couple of coins. They each grabbed a glass, the amber liquid sloshing over the rims as they made their way upstairs, leaving behind the raucous din of the saloon.

Their room was nothing more than a rickety bed and a flickering oil lamp casting long shadows across the stained walls. With a shove of his massive shoulder, Dan closed the door behind them, the click of the latch sounding final.

"Get undressed, you filthy dog," Dan grunted, already peeling off his sweat-soaked shirt, revealing a torso mapped with scars and muscle under a lush coat. Brian matched him, each movement shedding the dirt and dust of the trail, until they both stood in the dim light, raw and unadorned. Their cocks were hard, impatient

Without ceremony, Dan drove into Brian, the brutality of his thrusts a language they both understood intimately. The bed creaked under their combined weight, the violence of their coupling sending it skittering across the floorboards.

"Fuck... Rape me one day, Bearhunter. Crush my goddamn balls," Brian rasped, desire lacing through his harsh voice as he met Dan's punishing rhythm.

"Want me to make you clean up the shit off my cock? Drink my piss before I strangle the life outta ya?" Dan's voice was a low rumble, each word seething with a promise of darkness yet to come.

"Damn right," Brian gasped, egging on the force behind every savage motion, "Do your worst."

Their bodies slick with sweat and the filth of the day, they moved together, locked in a dance as old as time – violent, visceral, and utterly unhinged.

Dan's breath was a harsh panting in the stillness of the room, his sweat mingling with Brian's as he continued to drive into him. The heat between them was primal, each movement charged with raw intensity.

"Imma do it," he grunted, his voice thick with lust and exertion. "One day, when you least expect it, I'll give you what you've been beggin' for."

Brian moaned beneath him, the coarseness of the promise only spurring him on further. When they finally climaxed, their release was a mutual eruption of pent-up desire and unspoken pacts made in the throes of passion.

Afterwards, Brian obediently bent his head, his tongue working diligently over Dan's soiled flesh, cleaning him with a servility that belied the defiance in his eyes. "Remember your promise, Bearhunter," he murmured against Dan's skin.

"Wouldn't dream of forgettin'," Dan replied, his voice a low growl of dark assurance.

When Dan's cock was clean, Brian, without getting up, walked behind him and licked his ass, running his tongue along the crease between his buttocks.

“You'll get what you want, asshole. I'll give it to you.”

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of their carnal storm, sleep claiming them in its silent grasp.

The sudden crash of the door bursting open shattered the night's peace. Douglas Blackthorn stood silhouetted in the doorway, his presence like a harbinger of death. His men poured in behind him, their guns drawn and faces set in grim determination.

"Get up, ya naked sons of bitches," Douglas snarled, his gaze raking over Dan and Brian's exposed forms. "Time for a walk."

Without a moment to protest or grab their clothes, Dan and Brian were hauled from the bed, the cold touch of the night air biting at their bare skin. Forced out into the streets, they walked, the eyes of Boca Caliente upon them, heavy with the weight of impending doom.

"Looks like we're gonna meet our fucking maker sooner than expected," Dan muttered, his voice betraying no fear, only the resignation of a man who'd lived by the sword and knew too well its sharp edge.

"Let's hope he's got a twisted sense of humor," Brian shot back, a wry smile cutting across his face despite the dire circumstances.

As they paraded through the dusty roads, the reality settled in; their lives hung by a thread, one that Douglas Blackthorn was all too eager to sever.

The damp chill of the cell crept over Dan and Brian's naked flesh as they sat on the cold stone floor, backs against the wall. They were alone now, the echoes of Douglas Blackthorn's threats still hanging in the air like a death sentence. The stench of their own sweat mingled with the musty air, a pungent reminder of their vulnerability.

"Remember what you promised, Bearhunter," Brian's voice was gravelly, his eyes piercing into Dan's soul. "You said you'd be the one to kill me. Brutally."

Dan's blue eyes glinted, a wild light igniting within them. The corner of his mouth twitched into a half-smile, half-snarl. "It'll be a hard way to go down, Black. But if that's what you want—"

"Damn straight it's what I want," Brian spat out, defiance radiating from his sturdy frame. "We both know it's gotta be you."

"Then no pity," Dan growled, the words slithering out like a serpent's hiss. "No fucking mercy."

In one swift movement, Dan's hand shot out, delivering three punishing blows to Brian's belly. The sound of impact was sickening, a raw testament to flesh giving way under sheer force. Brian doubled over, a guttural groan escaping him as his bowels betrayed him.

"Fuck!" Brian howled, the pain only fueling his dark desires. "Give it all to me, Bearhunter!"

Dan attacked like a feral animal, raw and untamed, each movement a testament to his unyielding thirst for control. His massive cock drove into Brian’s ass with brutal intensity, the filth of their bodies mingling in a grotesque dance of sweat and grime. He fucked with a violence that spoke of their unholy connection, a bond forged in the fires of depravity and the shared hunger for chaos.

"That all you got?!" Brian taunted, his voice choked with the savage rhythm of their bodies colliding. "Thought you were gonna end me, Bearhunter."

Dan sneered, his breath ragged with exertion. "I'll fuck you to death, you thirsty bitch," he spat, redoubling the force of each thrust. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

Brian's hands clawed at Dan's muscular back, each merciless plunge fueling his desire for a grotesque demise. "Kill me slow!" he rasped, lost in the ecstasy of their mutual destruction.

Their flesh slapped together, each impact a promise of the darkness that lay ahead, their raw and visceral union vibrating through the shabby room.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?!" Dan barked, his breath hot against Brian's ear. "To feel my power crushing you?"

"More!" Brian gasped, pain and pleasure warring within him. "Don't you dare hold back!"

Their filthy words filled the dank cell, vile and vicious, cutting through the air like barbed wire. "Didn't think you'd go this easy," Dan taunted, each insult a brutal jab as they engaged in their final, fatal dance. "Thought you could take more pain than this." He pushed against Brian's battered body with savage determination, each demand for more violence ratcheting up the intensity of their grotesque union. The air crackled with a perverse energy, charged by the depths of their depravity and the darkness of their desires.

Dan’s huge hands were everywhere, kneading Brian's flesh with punishing fervor, until they clamped down, fingers finding and mercilessly squeezing Brian’s balls. "You wanted this, Black?" Dan barked, his voice a cruel whip lashing out. "Wanted me to squeeze you till you popped?" Brian's screams were raw and animalistic, each cry a mixture of agony and ecstasy, shouts that filled the small space with the echo of his twisted longing.

They moved together in a syncopated rhythm dictated by violence, a twisted symphony composed of grunts, curses, and the slick sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Brian writhed under Dan's massive frame, his body a canvas of bruises and abrasions, a testament to the brutality they both relished.

"Fuck! Don't stop! Fucking kill me!" Brian gasped, each plea a testament to his savage thirst for death at Dan's hands. His determination only fueled Dan's resolve, urging him to crush the last breath from his lungs.

"More!" Brian howled, his voice choked with the savage rhythm of their bodies colliding. "Crush me, Bearhunter! Don't you fucking stop!" Their grotesque symphony reached a fever pitch as they drifted closer to the ultimate darkness, each thrust a promise that the end was near.

Both men lost in their violent desires, Dan roared, "Take it all, Black!" Dan roared, lost in the fury of the moment.

"Fuck yes!" Brian cried out, pushing back against Dan with every ounce of strength left in him, seeking the pain he craved, the brutal end he had always envisioned at the hands of the man before him.

Their union was a carnal display of power and submission, of life teetering on the razor's edge of death. And in that decrepit cell, as the shadows bore witness, Dan and Brian embraced the darkness that bound them irrevocably together.

The tension between Dan and Brian was palpable, a mix of sweat, blood, and unspoken understanding. Brian's gaze never wavered, defiant even as he lay spent beneath Dan. They were two beasts locked in a savage ritual that only they could comprehend.

Finally Dan came in Brian's ass, increasing the pressure of his fingers on Brian's balls, until he felt them give. Brian watched the world sway and momentarily vanish. Dan pulled out of him. He looked at his shit-covered cock and balls.

"Clean it," Dan commanded, his voice rough with exertion. The order hung in the air, thick and undeniable, woven from the brutal threads of their mutual depravity. It was a demand forged in the fires of their darkest desires, one that Brian knew he had no choice but to fulfill.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Brian complied, driven by obedience and an insatiable thirst for the twisted dynamic between them. He lowered himself submissively, his tongue eager as it flicked against the soiled flesh. His actions were steady, each motion a reverent worship in their unholy sacrament. This act was more than mere submission; it was a penance paid for their shared sins, a ritual binding them deeper into the grotesque liturgy they performed over and over again. The acrid taste of sweat mingled with the pungency of seed and filth, every bitter lick an echo of the degradation they both craved. To Brian, cleaning Dan's body was a sacrament that transcended pain and humiliation, an offering to the god of death he longed to meet at Dan's hands. As his tongue moved, he felt the weight of his own desires, dark as the shadows that enveloped them, swelling up to consume him.

Dan watched with satisfaction, his instincts of domination sated by Brian's dutiful acceptance. He knew the depths of the other man's resolve and enjoyed breaking it apart piece by piece, always toying with how far he could take it, always pushing the limits where Brian would finally yield. But he knew Brian too well; it was at the point of deepest degradation that he truly thrived. Brian worked with fervor, each stroke of his tongue reaffirming the violent pact between them, a vow to end in blood and death. He licked and sucked, drawing out each drop in a grotesque display of allegiance to the man who promised him a brutal end.

Breathless and shuddering, Brian's eyes flickered up to meet Dan's, filled with a defiant kind of pleading, daring him to take the next step. He savored the humiliation, relished his fall into the abyss with Dan's hand at his back, driving him deeper into their shared hell. When he finally finished, a wicked smile ghosted his lips, anticipation burning behind his gaze, knowing this was merely a prelude to darker acts to come.

"Open up," Dan sneered, releasing a hot stream into Brian's accepting mouth. The acrid taste was a bitter reminder of their reality, but Brian drank it down without flinching, every swallow stoking the fire of their impending end.

"Ready?" Dan's hands encircled Brian's neck, a final gesture in their danse macabre. Brian's eyes sparked with a wild light.

"Do it," he rasped, challenging fate itself.

Dan's grip tightened, pressure building slowly, inexorably. Their gazes remained locked, a silent testament to the profound connection forged through years of brutality and bloodshed. There was no room for mercy here, only the raw truth of their existence.

"Fuck you, Bearhunter," Brian choked out, his voice a fading whisper as his life force ebbed away.

"Always," Dan growled back, the faintest flicker of respect flashing in his eyes before it was consumed by the dark void of his nature.

Brian's struggles waned, his body growing limp in Dan's iron embrace. As the last breath left him, there was a stillness, a silent acknowledgment of the path they had walked together.

The door banged open, shaking the oppressive silence that had settled. Douglas Blackthorn strode in, his presence filling the room with a new, menacing energy. He surveyed the scene, his lips curling into a cruel smile at the sight of Brian's lifeless form.

"Throw this piece of shit where he belongs," Douglas ordered casually, as if disposing of an empty bottle of whiskey.

Two henchmen stepped forward, seizing Brian's corpse by the arms and dragging it out of the cell. The heavy thuds of his body echoed down the corridor, a grim percussion leading to the final resting place.

"Adiós, amigo," Dan muttered under his breath, the words tasting like ash on his tongue.

They tossed Brian's body into the clogged latrine, the splatter of filth marking the inglorious end of a man who had lived and died by the gun. Douglas looked on with cold amusement, then turned his gaze to Dan.

"Your turn will come, Bearhunter," Douglas said with a sinister grin. "But not yet."

The latrine swallowed Brian whole, a festering grave for a soul that had embraced its own demise. And in that moment, the bond between hunter and hunted was sealed forever, transcending life, transcending death, bound in the eternal dance of predator and prey.

Douglas and his men subjected Dan to a harrowing ordeal, much like the one he had inflicted on Brian. They took turns violating him in every way imaginable, laughing all the while. Dan gritted his teeth, bearing the pain and humiliation without a word. They crushed his balls mercilessly, but he didn't even whimper.

Finally, they dragged him to a tree in the courtyard, his naked body hauled through the dirt for all to see. The cruelest among Douglas's men gathered to watch, eager for the spectacle of Bearhunter's hanging. The noose swung mockingly from the bare branch, a grim promise of what was to come. One of the bandits hoisted Dan up, lifting him roughly off the ground and keeping his arms under Dan's ass to hold him in place. Another bandit looped the noose tight around Dan's thick neck, their laughter cutting through the air like a chorus of vultures. They relished the moment, savoring the sight of such a feared man brought so low. "Let's see him dance!" one of them shouted, spurring the others to a frenzied excitement. The bandit holding Dan up took his time, enjoying the feel of Dan's body tensing above him before he finally let go, leaving Dan to fall as he stepped away. The noose snapped taut with a brutal efficiency, and as Dan's feet left the ground, a macabre dance began.

Dan Bearhunter kicked and twisted in the breeze, his movements almost elegant in their desperation. His cock hardened in defiance even as his bowels and bladder released, soaking the ground with the last vestiges of his bodily control. Breath was a distant memory as he flailed and jerked, each convulsion an obscene ballet that both entertained and unsettled the onlookers. His eyes, wild and unyielding, found Douglas Blackthorn's across the courtyard, and in that instant, they both knew the truth.

As his last breath left his body, cum erupted from his engorged cock, staining the ground below. They dragged Dan’s body across the dirt yard, his lifeless form leaving a ragged trail as they hauled him to the latrine. He seemed lighter in death, his limbs loose and unresisting as they ferried him toward his final resting place. The men handled him carelessly, like hunters with a fresh kill, and when they reached the cesspool they tossed him in with callous indifference. The wet thud as Dan's corpse landed atop Brian's echoed through the courtyard, a grotesque punctuation that signaled the end of two vicious lives. Their bodies lay entwined in the muck, two predators now prey to decay and oblivion, their fates sealed together in the rancid pit. The cesspool swallowed them greedily, a voracious grave for men who had once consumed all in their path.

United in death, Dan Bearhunter and Brian Black were finally one, a brutal coupling of flesh and filth that symbolized the world they had inhabited and the legacy of violence they left behind. The latrine became their coffin, their tomb, a festering monument to the savage dance that brought them both to the end they had always known awaited. Oblivion seeped through their bodies as they sank deeper into the sludge, an eternal embrace of corruption and ruin. Even in death, they were bound, two sides of the same coin tossed into the stink of a world that no longer belonged to them.

And yet, despite the grim spectacle, there was a crude beauty to it—a macabre poetry in how perfectly they fit together in that desolate grave. Dan and Brian had pushed the limits of life and now they shared the spoils of their reckless existence, forever locked in death's sordid grip. Above them, the men laughed and jeered, pissing and shitting on the lifeless bodies of both hunters.