LEGMEAT AND KNEEBACKS BURNED AND TASTED VIA TORTURE

Ah...burned through Muslim torture!

     I was traveling through the Middle East with a fellow male model one year when we were both taken hostage by a group of young Muslims. They gagged and hooded us, taking us to a warehouse far from the city with the sole purpose of torturing both of us...or maybe just one of us for the reason of what that person was wearing.

     Jonny was dressed in a tee shirt, white athletic socks with three blue stripes and white sneakers. But he wasn't wearing long pants like I was. You see, due to the climate of the vicinity, Jonny was wearing mid-thigh denim shorts, displaying his legs to our captors. As I sat there, my hands tied behind my back and my feet tied to the two front legs of the chair, the Muslims stood Jonny up and led him outside...where a throng of other young Muslim males stood prepared to either torture or kill poor Jonny. How they would carry out their devious plan only God knew.

     Once outside, our captors gagged Jonny, stood him erect and, lowering a hook from a crane, raised Jonny to a height that put his kneebacks at mouth level. Since he had no knowledge of the tongue, Jonny could only hang there and fear what the Muslims were going to do to him. He was all too soon to find out rather painfully...as painfully as any Muslim could inflict upon a handsome young American male model.

     A young man, roughly 17 or 18, approached Jonny's suspended and hooded body. He stared at the tempting, naked legmeat which was dangling before his eyes. Suddenly, opening a mouth to display the whitest teeth I had ever seen on a dark-skinned Muslim, the youth tilted his head and clamped his teeth on Jonny's right knee, his tongue licking the handsome kneeback which completely filled his mouth. The youth bit down, his teeth piercing both the inside and outside of Jonny's knee, his eyes closing rapturously as red blood squirted into his mouth. The pain from the bite caused Jonny to squirm vigorously while his knee was still in the Muslim youth's mouth, causing the teeth to cut more of the meat on either side of the handsome kneeback.

     When the youth retracted his teeth, the leader of the group approached and, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, licked the complete back of Jonny's left leg, starting from the bottom of his calf, over his kneeback and running all over the meaty thigh. Jonny hung there, helpless, unable to do anything in his predicament. All he could do was whimper as pain ran through his right leg from the bitten and bloodied knee. When the leader had finished licking Jonny's leg, he signaled the rest of the youths to approach and malign Jonny's legmeat, which they did with great pleasure. They licked and bit both of Jonny's legs for almost an hour before standing back at a distance of ten feet.

     The leader lowered Jonny's maligned body to a chair. He unbound Jonny's wrists and rebound them behind his back while another youth fashioned a noose and anchored it onto the hook. The leader then placed the noose around Jonny's neck, resting the loops against Jonny's shoulder. He then raised Jonny to a height that put his feet four feet above the ground. As Jonny gagged and struggled for breath, the leader ripped his shirt and pulled it down to his waist, exposing his broad back. The other youths laughed as they watch Jonny flopping about like a dying fish, his life being choke out of his body. After fifteen minutes, Jonny's head dangled lifeless onto his shoulder. The leader touched the vein at Jonny's left kneeback for a pulse. He smiled and nodded to the others. Jonny was dead.  The leader watched as Jonny's body was raised higher to offer the entire populace a better view of a handsome young American male model who died dressed in shorts and baring his legmeat.

     The leader then turned and approached the building in which I was still sitting, bound, blindfolded and gagged. He opened the door and entered the room, approaching me. He removed the gag, allowing me to breath...and talk.

     "Where is my friend?" I asked in Arabic.

     "You speak our language," he replied. "Are you a Muslim?"

     What could I do? How would I answer? I didn't want to be tortured...or killed.

     "Yes!"

     "What were you doing, traveling with an American?"

     "I didn't expect to be hijacked, leading him through the Middle East."

     The leader went behind my chair and cut my bonds before raising the hood from my head. Once my hands were free, I bent down and untied my feet.

     "Now...where is my friend?" I asked.

     "He's outside. He's dead", he answered. "We tortured and hanged him."

     "Why?"

     "If you weren't wearing pants, we would have done the same to you!"

     "What!"

     "In this country, the wearing of shorts is forbidden...and punishable by immediate death by hanging."

     "Can I have his body? To take home for burial."

     The leader walked over to the window and looked outside. The other youths had already lowered Jonny's body, laid him out prone, poured gasoline on his dead body and started to cremate him.

     "My friends are already burning him."

     I ran over to the window and looked outside. Sure enough, Jonny lay face down in the street, still hooded and bound hand and foot, feeding a vigorously fueled fire.

     "We burn the bodies of our enemies...face down if they are wearing shorts."

     I turned away from the window. The leader placed his hands on my shoulders.

     "If you were wearing shorts, you would have been hanged and burned face down beside him."

     The leader gave me my belongings.

     "Leave now...and forget you were here. And forget your friend ever existed."

     I nodded and walked out the door. Before I left, I looked back and watched as Jonny's prone body was still being burned as the youths doused it more and more with gasoline. Turning away, I hailed down a cab and, taking the leader's advice, left the city...and my friend's cremating body.

     

AH, TO DIE FACE DOWN...IN SHORTS!

It would be pure bliss to die face down at attention...
dressed like this with kneebacks to the sky!

     I have often dreamed about dying face down at attention while wearing meat-bearing shorts, a long-sleeved shirt, below-the-calf socks and dress shoes...with a sports jacket to finish off the handsome ensemble.

     In my most favorite dream, I am laying face down, anxiously awaiting somebody to inject me with a drug which would render me completely unconscious so that my death would be easier for me to tolerate...and for the all-male crowd to thoroughly enjoy without any bodily movements which would indicate that I am not as unconscious as my executioner would believe.

     As soon as it is verified that I am completely unconscious, my executioner pours gasoline all over my prone body...from my head to my feet. As the all-male audience glances at my wet body, they notice how my thighs, calves and kneebacks glisten brightly in the noon sun. When the nearby clock tower chimes the noon hour, my executioner ignites a wooden matchstick and drops it near my left thigh.

     Immediately, my body becomes engulfed in flames. Since I am thoroughly unconscious, the flames do their work without any interruption. As I quickly burn to death, smoke from my burning legmeat reaches the noses of my all-male audience, who close their eyes and exalt in the smell of roasting meat...a smell more akin to that of roasting almonds. As the audience continues to watch the conflagration, my clothes begin to burn away, revealing more of my body which they were hiding and are now exposed to the fire.

     Within an hour, my once-living and handsomely meaty body was reduced to white ash. The executioner allowed the fire to self-extinguish. Nothing remained that once told people that the ash was all that was left of a handsome 47-year-old man who, while he was alive, thoroughly loved to wear shorts and left it up to the imagination of other men and boys how his muscular legmeat looked while he walked among us.