tagErotic HorrorThe Obsidian Blade

The Obsidian Blade


Dear Reader

The events in the following story are loosely based on a real-life event that occurred in the 1990s. The names of the characters and institutions have been changed to protect the innocent and guilty alike.


The hot Honduran sun beat down on the excavation site while the group of diggers toiled. The group consisted of a dozen students from the University of Tallahassee and they were supervised by Zach Turner, a doctoral candidate who had been put in charge of the day to day management of the excavation. The excavation itself was chosen in an area of the ruins of the ancient citadel of Copan believed to have been a residential compound for the city-state's affluent elite. Zach had brought his fiancé Linda along to join the group dig.

Zach and the group were managed by Professor Hal Jaylor from Tallahassee's Department of Archaeology and Dr Phillpe Duponte a French expert in Maya pottery who had been a resident of the nearby village of Copan Ruinas for over a decade. Duponte seemed to have a influential finger in a lot of pies within the Copan village community.

As the daily temperature rose, each of the diggers began to sweat profusely as they attempted to free their spades from the clay that had been saturated by the previous night's rainfall.

Pieces of broken pottery were rescued from the gluey mud and set aside for preliminary cleaning and recording. Each layer uncovered was plotted and photographed. This process was repeated throughout the working day when the excavation was covered with protective sheeting and the finds were gathered up and deposited in the research facility that lay directly opposite the ruins themselves. The diggers were exhausted with their labour and each longed for a hot shower to rid themselves of the caked clay that clung heavily to their boots and clothes. This was the second week of the scheduled six week project.

Zack too was tired but he kept reminding himself that all the painfully slow progress would be worthwhile and that his PhD thesis would depend on the evidence they uncovered. However, he was somewhat perplexed by the more frequent absences of his fiancé Linda from the daily digging team efforts. She had initially participated eagerly for the first week, but then begged off to do some sight-seeing around the village. Her absences during the day seemed to be getting longer and longer. Late afternoon, the day's dig ended and the group of diggers disbanded to head to their respective hotel rooms. Zach reached his small hotel room that he shared with Linda and took off his mud-caked boots before entering. He found his fiance sitting on their bed wrapped in a towel, combing her wet hair, obviously following a shower. After trying to engage in conversation with her, Linda seemed to Zach somewhat distracted. Puzzled, Zach hit the shower and felt the hot water revive him. He kissed Linda and began to rub her body, undoing her towel in the process. Linda firmly pushed his hands away and said "Zach, I'm just not in the mood tonight...I just need to sleep". Zach was taken aback by her rejection. This was so unlike the Linda he knew who was normally as keen on sex as he was. He decided not to push the issue but instead climbed naked into their shared bed and attempted to sleep. Unfortunately it did not come easy to him and he spent a large part of the night staring at the ceiling and the overhead fan as it rotated noisily above his head. After several hours exhaustion got the better of him and he slipped into sleep.

The following morning, Zack climbed out of the bed careful not to wake his fiancé. He got dressed into his work clothes and boots and headed out to the excavation site. The digging team had already arrived and were setting up for the day's routine activities. Zach pushed the previous night and Linda's rejection of his amorous advances to the back of his mind and immersed himself in the excavation.

Broken pottery sherds were becoming profuse and before long bag after bag were stacked up waiting for further analysis in the research centre.

At about midday, one of the diggers called out to Zach and the others that he had found something unexpected. When the layer of clay was scraped off the diggers saw that the find was a beautifully fashioned obsidian blade about 10 inches long and shaped like a slender leaf. Despite being buried for centuries, the edges of the blade were razor sharp. Zach and the others were elated. As he handled the blade he felt the edges of the volcanic glass bite into the flesh of his hand. "Fuck that thing is sharp! " he exclaimed, as drops of his blood ran down the sides of the blade. He reached for the site first aid kit and found a bandage to wrap around his injured hand. He then turned his attention to the blade and used a water bottle to help clean off the residual mud that caked its surface. Zack had seen images of such knives before from other major Maya sites. He recalled that they were invariably associated with human sacrifices made by Maya priests to their gods. This knife in his hands represented the very first such artefact to be found in the ruins of Copan.

At the end of the days dig activities, Zach was eager to show the obsidian blade to the two site managers. Prof Jallor was in Tegucigalpa replenishing supplies, so Zack decided to show the obsidian knife to Dr Duponte. Without delay, Zach walked up the slightly raised road to Dr Duponte's residence; a fairly imposing compound. He knocked on the heavy wooden door but got no response. He knocked again and waited for some movement from inside. He was about to turn away when the door slowly opened. Maria, one of Duponte's domestic servants addressed Zach in broken English. Zach asked if he could talk to Dr Duponte. Maria looked flustered and her eyes nervously darted as if she had been caught off guard. She eventually asked Zach to enter and take a seat. She left and Zack assumed that she had gone in search of her employer. Zack waited and waited. There was still no response. He stood up and wondered if he should leave. It was then that he heard voices coming from a corridor which led to Duponte's private quarters. It was obvious from the sighs and moans that he was not alone. He was entertaining a lover. Dr Phillipe Duponte had a reputation for decades of being the stereotypical French alpha male who had a reputation of fucking any female with a pulse. In fact it was a reputation that he was proud of and was known to openly brag about. Zach assumed it would be someone Duponte had met from the village. However, the next shrill cry of passion from the unknown female chilled Zach's blood. He recognised that voice. It was the voice of his fiancé, Linda who was egging Duponte to fuck her pussy deeper and faster. There were more wet sounds of flesh being slapped on flesh. Zach was devastated and paralysed. With a sad realisation, he realised that he had been betrayed by both Duponte and his fiancé Linda. They had both taken advantage of his pivotal role as dig supervisor. For some reason Zach felt he needed to witness the betrayal with his own eyes. Creeping stealthily towards Duponte's bedroom door, he then slowly turned the brass door knob. There they were, Duponte and Linda so deep into their fucking that they didn't hear Zack's entry. Duponte was fucking Linda doggy-style, with deep penetrating strokes. Linda made little cries as Duponte's cock pressed against her cervix. Waiting and watching the rutting pair attain their respective climaxes, Zack quietly said:

"You have both broken my heart and soul. I thought I could trust both of you; you Linda as the love of my life, and you Duponte as a co-Doctorate supervisor who had my interests at heart...right at this moment I feel like a dead man..."

The fucking pair immediately looked towards Zack standing in the open doorway. Linda panicked trying to cover up her nakedness, while Duponte casually disengaged his now flabby cum-covered cock from Linda's red-flushed pussy and donned a robe. Duponte said that he did not rape Linda; far from it, she became bored with the dig and it was she who initiated flirting with him. Flirting led to sex and that explained the increasingly infrequent participation of Linda with dig activities. Duponte insisted that it was just sex and as far as he was concerned it did not constitute an affair. Besides, he said, you and Linda are not yet married so technically she is still free to fuck who ever she wants.

Duponte then attempted to apply pressure by warning Zach

" Zack, if you create a spectacle about this it will lead to a possible scandal that would negatively reflect on the Department of Archaeology, The University of Tallahassee generally, and your own career prospects including your PhD.

You really have no choice but to accept what has happened and your new cuckold status."

Zach was speechless as he stared angrily at his fiancé, with Duponte's creampie dripping from her faithless cunt onto the sheets beneath her. He felt the cool hardness of the obsidian blade in his hands and gripped it until he could feel his blood dripping from new cuts. He calmly walked up to the bed where the two sat. Zack felt white hot anger over his total betrayal sear his brain, blotting out any rational thought. He felt the tremendous power of the obsidian blade in his hands and its long bloody history of exacting sacrifice. He felt its hunger for sanctification through the shedding of human blood and he was now the conduit to satisfy that hunger.

It was a different Zach who reached the sitting Duponte and grabbed his hair in one hand, drawing it up forcing the older man to slightly stretch his neck upwards. With a strength he didn't know he possessed he whipped the obsidian blade across the unprotected neck of his betrayer. The blade was so sharp and the cut so deep that he almost decapitated Duponte with the one savage stroke. Duponte's head fell backwards, held only by the intact vertebrae of his neck. Blood gushed like a fountain pulsing to the beat of Duponte's gradually dying heart. When he saw that the Frenchman's chest no longer rose and fell, he pushed the dead body to the floor and approached his fiancé.

Linda trembled with sheer terror having witnessed the violent death of Duponte. She cringed and started to beg a blood -soaked Zack for her life.

"Think of the deep love we have for each other, Zack honey..this was just physical lust...it really didn't mean anything. I was just bored."

Zack reached out his free hand and gently rubbed her cheek and chin in an almost loving gesture, Linda looked into Zack's eyes, with tears rolling freely down her face. But she found no love or forgiveness in those eyes; just totally black irises as black and glittering as the obsidian knife he held in his hands. Zack bent down to hold Linda to his body and felt her sob as he kissed her lips. Linda hardly felt the bite of the obsidian blade as it sank into her left breast easily penetrating flesh, ribs and eventually her cheating heart. She only managed small whimpers as the life in her bled away.

Zack laid his dead fiancé upon Duponte's bed and surveyed his bloody handiwork. The surface of the obsidian knife seemed to have somehow absorbed the blood that it had caused to flow. Its surface was as clean and glittering as it had been before Zack had dispatched his betrayers. He felt the knife in his hands and knew instinctively that he still had tasks to perform. He reached down and turned Duponte's body on its back. Drawing aside the dead man's robe he reached for Duponte's now flaccid cock and balls. Holding them up he again swept the shimmering knife through them. He dropped the severed sex organs on Duponte's still chest. He took one last look at the body of his fiancé Linda. He felt nothing but coldness. He smiled as he drew the obsidian blade through his own neck from ear to ear and welcomed the fast approaching darkness.


The "facts" that the above story was based on did not involve murder or physical injuries of any kind to the parties involved. The complete humiliation and emotional devastation that the real-life "Zack" character felt on learning of the betrayal of his fiancé and the French pottery specialist hit the guy hard. So hard that he decided that his PhD was no longer tenable with such an untrust worthy co-thesis supervisor. He would not forgive his fiancé for her open sexual betrayal. I understand that he left Copan, Honduras as soon as he could get transport to the nearest major airport. The last I heard he headed for Europe. The university (not Tallahassee) was never made officially aware of the scandal that occurred by the realife "Zack" nor his Doctoral supervisors. However, his excavation team knew what had precipitated his sudden departure from Copan and it was through them that I discovered the details of this sad but true event It sickened me and I felt that somehow at least some of his story should be told.


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by Anonymous

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by swingerjoe09/11/18


First, congrats on your first foray into fiction writing. Even though this is based on a true story, you still needed to tap into your imagination to fill in the blanks.

Second, don’t fret about themore...

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by Youami09/11/18

Points taken Anonymous


You are correct...this one was dashed off somewhat quickly and I should have spent some time proofing it. I'll try to learn from this with my future contributions

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by Anonymous09/11/18


Not great. Not very good, in fact. It is sad that so many people just want to pack something together quickly, and get it posted without it having been proofread.

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