The Faggot at the Gym by

My name is Andrew, I’m 28 years old and I live with my boyfriend Joe. We’ve been together for 5 years, and even though I love him very much, lately the sex hasn’t been great or often. He is 35, 6 feet tall, a little overweight, with a 4-inch dick that just doesn’t satisfy on the rare occasions we actually fuck, as he’s a bottom-vers and I’m a total bottom. Lately, I can’t stop looking at alpha male porn where guys fuck the shit out of bottoms their huge dicks, as well as staring at any muscled alphas on the street or at the gym.

I’m shorter than Joe at about 5 foot 6, I have dark hair, a beard and am fairly muscular, though I can’t quite seem to bulk up as much as the straight guys at the gym. I’ve always been attracted to masculine men, and while I’m fairly masculine-presenting, I’ve always known deep down that I’m on a lower level than the alphas I see at the gym, and have gotten off on guys calling me names, treating me rough and hurting me. No one knows I think like this, not even Joe.

The other night after a particularly bland lovemaking session (I ended up giving him a handjob to finish it off as soon as possible, I don’t think I got harder than a semi the whole time, and I definitely didn’t cum), I let Joe fall asleep while I got up and opened up some porn in the lounge room.

The video was of a strong alpha fucking a boy mercilessly, sweat dripping down from his face onto his chiseled abs. His cock had to be longer than 9 inches, and the boy was moaning in pleasure. Every now and again the top would say things like “you like that, faggot?” and “you’re my fucking bitch” which would make the bottom moan louder. I’d seen this video before, where between poundings of his dick, the top would push over, kick, slap and punch the bottom hard, and the bottom would thank the top for each one. I’m pretty sure they weren’t faking it, too, because the bottom’s face swelled up. It’s one of my favourites, even though it cuts out right as the top says “time for the load of your life, faggot”.

I was getting pretty hard, but didn’t want to wake Joe, so I decided to pack up my laptop and head to the gym to vent my frustrations. I put on a tight black tank top, a pink jockstrap and my favourite tiny gym shorts. The shorts are made of white mesh so you could see my pink jockstrap underneath and so short that they barely cover the bottom of my bubble butt, and the jockstrap waistband stays well above the waist of the shorts, leaving a gap between them. I always feel so slutty in this outfit, and I wear it whenever I’m getting ready for the gym without Joe seeing, and it took a little effort for my dick to soften before I headed out.

It was just after midnight when I left for the gym, I had the day off the next day and Joe had work, so I didn’t have to worry about how much time I took. I live near the edge of the city, basically a suburb but with industrial buildings taking up most of the 15 minute walk to the gym. The streets are usually abandoned that late at night, except maybe some homeless guys sleeping in some of the dark, unlit alleys on the way, and tonight I didn’t see a soul on my walk.

I got to the gym without incident, and beeped myself in with my tag. After putting my bag on a hook (I didn’t have much in there aside from my phone and drink bottle, and even though I always carry cash in my wallet, I wasn’t worried about it being stolen), I cast my eyes over the gym.

At the resistance machines, two guys were chatting to each other as they did some leg extensions, one guy was stretching in the back, and around the corner I could hear someone grunting using the free weights. It was about as quiet as I thought it would be. It’s not a gay gym, so the guys are normally straight, and I checked out the three I could see on my way over to the treadmill. The two guys were pretty hot, definitely stronger than I am, one taller than the other, and the stretching guy wasn’t too bad either, although he finished up his stretching and left not long after I walked by.

As I stepped up to the treadmill to start my run, I’m pretty sure I heard one of the two guys say, “what the fuck is he wearing?”, with a scoff.

“Haha, that’s fucking hilarious, man” said the other guy.

I ignored them and tried to concentrate on running. I built up quite a sweat after a few minutes, building up around my forehead, armpits and crotch. The sweat soaked into my shorts, revealing the pink jockstrap even
more and my exposed ass.

When I was done on the treadmill I decided to head over to the free weights, and on my way the two guys were heading out past me to leave the gym.

“Nice panties, bro” said the shorter guy, and laughed with his friend as they quickly left the building. My cheeks flushed and I felt my cock stir a little against the fabric of the very jockstrap they were teasing me for.

As I turned the corner towards the free weights, I got a look at the source of the earlier grunting. Holy shit, this guy was a beast! He had huge, bulging muscles, glistening with sweat, easily over 6 feet tall with cropped, dark hair and a clean-shaven face. His face was contorted into a frown as he curled a heavy dumbell that I couldn’t hope to even take off the rack, let alone pump them as he did (I’d tried, and they didn’t budge). His biceps and back rippled with the effort of his workout, and just as I realised I was staring he looked up at me. I immediately broke his gaze, hoping he didn’t notice and I went to the dumbell rack, and picked a heavy set, though several times lighter than the other guy’s.

I snuck another look at this godly figure as I leaned over, but he was looking back at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t checking me out, but I did notice his frown had deepened slightly. I sat down on the nearest bench, with the weight rack on my right, and two benches separating him and me on my left. I started curling the weights, noticing my biceps had grown slightly, but I felt practically skinny next to the muscled hunk across from me.

I kept stealing furtive glances over at this guy, and he noticed every time, either straight away or because if he didn’t notice I couldn’t help but stare. His deep grunts as he lifted his weights reverberated through my head, reminding me of the video from before. He was so hot, I could feel the power emanating from him, and before long I couldn’t look away at all, my own weights forgotten on the floor next to my bench. He caught my eye and looked frustrated, dropping his weight with a clatter to the ground.

“Are you right, mate?” He said, clearly annoyed.

“Ah,” I stammered, “sorry, I couldn’t help but admire your build, man”, trying to play it cool.

“Haha, yeah,” he said as he took me in, “I get it, but could you quit it? It’s a little distracting.”

“Sorry Sir” (Sir? I didn’t expect to say that), “I’ll let you get back to it” I said, wondering what Joe would think if he saw me like this.

“Hm, just keep your eyes to yourself”, he said dismissively, and went back to it, though I think he noticed something in the way I called him Sir.

I finished my biceps and got up to change the bench position. As I bent over I heard him snigger, he clearly saw my jockstrap. It didn’t really surprise me, but hearing him laugh at me got my dick working again, and I sat down to do my next exersize, trying and failing to stop checking him out.

When he caught my eye yet again, he said “Are you checking me out? What are you gay or some shit?”.

I was shocked by his reaction, “uh yeah, sorry man” I said, nervously.

“I knew it, look, I’m not interested mate, keep your fucking eyes off me”, he said angrily.

“Of course, sorry Sir”, I said, surprising myself by calling him that, I felt so submissive right then.

“Fucking faggots,” he muttered under his breath, which made my semi form into a full on hard-on.

I kept my eyes to myself, but my boner wouldn’t go down. He got up to put his weight away, and must have seen, because I hear him away “what the fuck?” I looked over at him and he’d definitely seen. “Jesus christ, you really are a fuckin’ faggot.”

I couldn’t believe he was calling me faggot again, which only made my cock go fully rock hard. Repulsed, the alpha took a step back. I’d clearly gotten in trouble here, so I apologised and put my weights away, wiped up my bench, grabbed my bag and headed out the door without a backwards glance. I knew I was going to fap hard to this when I got home.

I’d turned two corners when I realised there was someone behind me, so I quickened my pace a little. I heard their footsteps quicken, so as I turned a third corner into the next street I sped up and hid in one of the dark, industrial alleyways. The main street only had one light, which barely reached this alleyway, and the alley itself had no lights at all, so I thought it would be a good place to hide. I looked down the end to see it blocked off with a brick wall. *Fuck, dead end* I thought, and tried the only door. Locked.

The steps got louder and I saw a big shadow appear, when the figure reached the opening I saw it was the guy from the gym! I gasped and then cursed my mistake as his head whipped around, looking me dead in the eye.

“There you are, faggot.” He said with a smirk, “Do you think you can fuck up my workout and then get away? Fuck you.”

I was scared, not knowing what was going to happen, but his words made me hard all over again, pushing my jockstrap and clearly tenting my shorts. I was cold in the night air with my tight clothes and exposed legs, but I don’t think that’s why I was shivering.

“Holy shit, you actually like being called a faggot, don’t you?” He said aggressively, slowly walking up to me “I should have known, you’re dressed like a stupid queer, no one would even give a fuck if you wound up dead in that outfit, they’d figure you had it comin'”

He had backed me almost up to the brick wall, and I could feel his breath coming towards me. He looked me up and down and then shoved me hard into the wall, forcing the wind out of my lungs.

“Haha, you fucking weak fag, you couldn’t take me on, so don’t fucking try” I knew he was right, so I said nothing, he was shaking with fury.

“You know your kind aren’t fucking welcome at the gym, queer, so why do you show up in your stupid gear and check me out? I’m going to show you your mistake, and make sure you can never come back and piss me off again.”

He held my face with one hand, hurting my jaw with his strong grip, and hitme hard in the gut with his other powerful fist, and I only stayed on my feet because of his hold of my face.

“Now what do you say?” He sneered into my face.

“Th- thank you”, I stammered through his hand, barely able to move my mouth.

He spat in my face.

“Thank you, WHAT?” He glared

“Thank you, Sir”, I said, a tear rolling down my cheek.

He laughed and then slugged me once more in the gut before noticing my erection.

“Wow, you’re really getting off on this, aren’t you faggot?”

I nodded weakly, stiff at attention.

“Well clearly the lesson isn’t sinking in”, and he punched me as hard as he could in the face, knocking me to the floor. Blood flew from my face and I heard a couple of teeth bounce across the hard ground.

“You. Are. Fucking. Scum.” He kicked me as hard as he could with each word” Faggots like you deserve pain, you deserve this for being a fucking queer”

I thanked him over and over, blood still dripping from my face and new wounds. He stepped onto my ankle, putting all his weight on it until it broke.

I was in fucking agony, but I loved it. Why did I feel this way? This alpha male was giving me attention, and even though it was negative attention, I got off on the idea that he was putting me in my place. My ankle burned as I saw him lean over and grab the wallet my bag.

“This cash is mine, faggot. Your fee for the beating, I don’t do that shit for free, and you clearly love it.” He spat in my face again, and kicked me hard in the face while I was still lying on the ground, I felt my nose break. He grabbed his crotch, “I’ll bet you wanna suck my dick now, hey fag boy? Well too bad, this cock is for women, no faggot will ever get a taste of this pole.”

“Yes Sir, fair enough Sir, I’m sorry”. My words sounded garbled and stupid through my injuries as I sat up, trying to stand. “I won’t bother you again, Sir, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I don’t think you realise what’s happening here, faggot” the Alpha spat, a darkness coming over his face, “I’m going to make sure you don’t bother *anyone* ever again.”

A chill ran through my spine, “Please Sir-”

“No, you shut the fuck up”, he spat, “you fucking faggots need to be exterminated, I’m not here to hurt you, I’m here to *end* you, you’ve already said your final words.”

He pulled a knife from his bag, holding it in front of my face. It looked sharp. And was serrated near the tip. My hard dick did not soften, as I realised there was no way out. This man was going to take my life.

“I think you know you deserve this, don’t you?” He sneered.

I simply nodded. I knew I was a faggot and a piece of shit, I hated myself and knew my place.

“You know you loved your bones being broken, and not because you enjoyed being hurt, because you knew it brought me pleasure.”

I nodded again, he was right.

“Your entire life has been devoted to pleasing men, especially men like me far better than you could ever hope. So it’s fitting that I’ll be ending your fucking pathetic life tonight, no one will even care that you’re gone.”

My thoughts flashed to Joe, but I didn’t care.

“I’m sick of fucking looking at you, faggot, good riddance.”

Sudden pain as he began to saw the knife roughly through my throat, I felt the warmth of my own blood flowing freely and quickly down my body. As the knife sawed through the pipes, my vision blurred and my cock began to throb, painfully.

“Filthy fucking faggot, fuck you” was the last thing I heard before my cock started unloading, and I faded, my last sensation orgasm and pure, horrible agony.

A Volunteer By Gay Slavemeat

What if there were a genius who created all kinds of fantastic inventions and cures that massively improved the world?  No more pandemics, no more cancer, no more global warming, etc.  Wouldn’t you want to accommodate and reward him if he had a few simple requests for his own pleasure that required some trivial sacrifices?


Paul stood at rigorous attention, his body taught and his hands respectfully clasped behind his back.  He was entirely focused on the Intake Officer seated behind a glass-topped desk in front of him.  They were the only two people in the room, and Paul knew that his fate rested in the hands of this official.  If Paul fucked up, he would be rejected, and he was determined not to let that happen.  This was his life’s ambition that was at stake.


“Are you nervous?  You appear to be sweating a little,” the official commented.


“Yes, sir.  Being accepted as a volunteer is my only goal in life, and I am anxious to pass inspection.”


“That’s appropriate, so don’t worry about that aspect.  If you get too nervous, it will affect your erection, which I do care about, so feel free to stroke yourself to stay hard if that’s needed.”


“Thank you, sir.  But that won’t be necessary.  This interview is a huge turn-on, so I’ll be OK.  Focusing on your body also helps.”  It had been a test question, and Paul had sensed that and answered correctly.  Being sexually turned on by the chance to volunteer was a key requirement.  And that was a requirement Paul fully met, as his hard cock demonstrated.


Both men were completely naked, and each had a throbbing hard-on.  The glass desk enabled Paul to see how the Officer’s cock stood quite hard and quite large, and of course Paul was completely exposed to the Officer, even his backside being easily viewed via mirrors in the room.  Each was a fantastic example of young male perfection, turning each other on sexually.   They even had similar body types – swimmers builds with exceptionally well developed muscles that reflected intense exercise regimens.  Paul was younger, just 18, and the Officer was in his mid-30s, almost a somewhat older version of Paul.  Both were devoid of body hair, but with conservative haircuts.  Indeed, everyone who worked or volunteered at the Institute bore these characteristics, including being sexually aroused by the chance to be there.  Everyone had a great body, enhanced by rigorous workouts, and stayed naked and hard to exhibit it.  One never knew when sexual performance would be required.


“Have you signed the paperwork?”


“Yes, sir.”


“Did you understand it?”


“I believe so, sir.”


“Good, but we have to be sure.  There are restrictions on accepting volunteers that were imposed when this program was established, given how many hundreds apply to volunteer every day, so we have to be certain you understand the nature of the transaction.  Therefore, please explain to me what you understand is about to happen if you are accepted.”


“I believe it is very simple, sir.  I am about to willingly and enthusiastically donate my body for use and disposal by the Inventor.  If I am accepted, I will have no further rights as a person, and will be one more piece of property the Inventor owns to do with entirely as He pleases.”


“So you’d become a slave?”


“Oh no, sir.  Much less than that.  A slave is a person owned by another person.  I would no longer be a person – just live meat deserving of humiliation, torture, and use as a sex toy prior to being snuffed however the Inventor feels like killing me.”


“Exactly.  And are you in agreement with that, knowing that you’ll endure huge amounts of pain being used as a sex toy and ultimately likely as meat being eaten alive?  This will include being an object of ridicule as others laugh at your stupidity for volunteering.  The Inventor likes to torture and snuff sex toys with lots of people staff like me participating.  He is a very generous employer and we enjoy watching the volunteers get what they deserve and helping Him torture and destroy them.  It’s a lot of fun, the more humiliating for the volunteer the better.  Joining Him in eating a live volunteer’s meat is a great bonding experience for us.  For you it would be a combo of pain and humiliation.”


“Absolutely, sir.  It’s what I seek.  Given all that the Inventor ahs done for society, it is the least I can do to add to His pleasures in whatever small, irrelevant way I can do so.”


“Excellent.  Then I have good news for you.  You have passed the physical with flying colors, and your very strong gay orientation means we won’t have to reorient you sexually.  Your body is exceptional both in looks and physical fitness, just the kind He enjoys, and I think if this interview goes well you can expect to begin your service as early as this afternoon.  The Inventor has gotten bored with one of His current urinals and will torture it to death this afternoon, which leaves an opening that would allow you to serve very directly as a repository for his urine.  Are you good at drinking piss?  It would not do to spill any on the fine carpets of the Institute or the Inventor’s homes.”


“Yes, sir.  In preparation for my application I worked as a student urinal at my high school.  I have not spilled any urine in over a year, including sessions when my mouth was the target of multiple streams as students rushed from class to class.”


“Good.  The recommendation from your high school principal was very positive.  And what’s your experience at sucking cock and swallowing sperm?”


“I also performed that service, sir, and I received highly favorable reviews from guys of all different cock sizes.  I am able to suck to the base of most any cock without chocking.  The principal has an unusually long and thick cock and was thoughtful enough to train me regularly.  The same is true for a number of the seniors on the football and basketball teams, and I provided service to the teams both with blow jobs and as the team urinal during my own senior year.  This meant kneeling naked on the field and the gym, which also helped me learn to appreciate how appropriate it is for me to be jeered and laughed at.”


“Your principal said you were one of the best cocksuckers he ever used, and was complementary on that point as well.  Do those activities turn you on so that you get an erection?”


“Yes, sir.  Always.  That’s one of the things people liked to laugh at during games.  They’d point at my hard dick, make rude comments, then laugh at me.  And that made me get even harder.”


“And beatings?”


Yes, sir.  Our team wasn’t very good, and both the team and the fans took out their frustrations by kicking and hitting me.  Since that was fun for them, they also did so if we won.  But the coach made sure I wasn’t damaged, to preserve my value as a potential volunteer.  The same was true when the team took turns whipping me, which was part of their aerobic exercise routine.  Those kinds of activities also caused me to get sexually turned on.”


“Very good.  Do you understand that you will not be permitted to provide yourself any sexual relief except as ordered by the Inventor?  Once you become His property, your pleasures are of course irrelevant, and He keeps His live meat as horny as possible so the meat animals perform better.  Unless He decides He wants to watch you shoot a load – which He might form time to time given your fine physique – you have likely already had your last orgasm before you’re killed.   He does tend to enjoy watching the meat reach orgasm during the snuff process, typically as he cuts off the cock, so you also might luck out then too.   If you jerk off without permission, you’ll be thrown out in disgrace.”


“I understand, sir.  It is a small price to pay for the honor of service, and I fully understand I am only of value as a source of pleasure for the Inventor.  I am again grateful to my principal, who trained me not to cum without his permission, and usually just had a session once a month where the seniors would get together, I’d give everyone a blow job, drink their piss as they drank tons of beer, and then get beaten up and laughed as I jerked off for their amusement.  These were the only orgasms I’ve been permitted to have this past year or so and I have never disobeyed.”


“OK, so far so good.  Have you ever been butt-fucked?”


“No, sir.”


“Why not?  You’re obviously gay and sexually very active.  Are you reluctant to have another cock up your ass?”


“Oh, no, sir.  I would welcome that.  But I read that the Inventor enjoys fucking virgin assholes, and I have therefore refused to let anyone use me.  Losing my virginity to Him as He ploughs His penis up my ass would be the culmination of all my dreams, second only to having Him snuff me.  But I do not presume to think He’d be interested.  I will be content and honored with whatever use He makes of me, and drinking His piss would be a fully sufficient use of my body to fulfill my ambitions.”


“I think your odds are good.  He really likes to fuck good looking young guys, and you fit the bill.  And you’re right, it’s quite an honor.  He actually was the first one to fuck my ass, and I still consider that my greatest contribution.  By the way, He’s got a really good sized cock and He’s good at fucking.  With a virgin butt, you should anticipate it will hurt a lot.”


“Wow.  That would be even better, sir.  I have read how much He enjoys inflicting pain, and so I would look forward to enduring as much as possible.”


“That is one thing you can count on.  Torture sessions are regular events and I think you’ll be surprised just how good He is at is.


“One final question before I accept your application, and keep in mind this is in many ways the most important.  Why do you want to volunteer?”


“That’s easy, sir.  I learned early on that I am gay, and I am a natural and fairly extreme masochist with a body dominant guys like to use.  As I attended school, I continued to read about the astonishing things the Inventor has discovered and given to society.  I can’t imagine the contribution of a pill that cures cancer of all types, as well as diabetes and even AIDS, or of other procedure that reverses the bad effects of aging.  Everyone’s lives are now so much better as a result.  And His research on global warming led to reusable fuels that freed society from fossil fuels, halting and reversing global warming.  He even saved the economies of the middle east countries by figuring out how to turn their deserts into lush forests and farmlands that replaced the revenue from oil.  I’m sure I’m forgetting lots of other things, but I quickly realized He is the greatest person ever.


“When I read about His desire for young males to donate our comparatively irrelevant lives in order to service His pleasures, and the initial resistance of many countries to supplying young males for His use and disposal, I was horrified at their reaction to such a modest request.  What a lack of gratitude!  Then I read about the compromise program where guys like me could volunteer to donate our bodies for His pleasure when we turned 18, and I became determined to do so.  I want to do something worthwhile with my pathetic life, and know that it has to be in the form of some kind of sexual service involving me enduring huge amounts of pain to arouse or amuse another male.  The thought that this could be for the benefit of such a deserving hero as the Inventor is overwhelming, and I’ve tried to live my life so that I will be considered.  That’s why I’ve learned helpful skills like drinking piss and sucking cock, and why I have very carefully monitored my diet and focused on rigorous exercise so my body does not have any excess fat and is in fantastic shape.  I understand he likes his meat lean, at 3.5% BMI, and I have maintained exactly that.  I realize very few of the volunteers have the honor of being eaten alive by the Inventor, given how many get snuffed each day, but all my efforts would be worthwhile if He even took the time to cut off my balls and use them as a snack.  My incentive for all the exercises to sculpt my body to His taste, especially getting my glutes into the bubble-butt he likes, would be fulfilled if He used me as part of a meal as well as for a fuck target.  Providing nourishment to Him as well as sexual amusement is an almost incomprehensible source of potential fulfillment for me.”


The intake officer was quite pleased with the answer, and made a note that this volunteer showed special promise.  The marketing they were spreading in the schools was clearly paying off.  He was pretty sure his employer would enjoy fucking and eating this animal alive, especially since there was every prospect of an engaging conversation with it on which parts would be most tasty, and how it could cooperate in the process.  But that would come later, after it was used as a urinal.


“That was very well said, one of the best responses ever,” the officer stated.  “So you’re officially accepted.  From this moment on, you are the property of the Inventor.  As you know there is no turning back.”


“Thank you, sir.  Of course not.”  The new volunteer was so excited the officer could see some pre-cum dripping from his throbbing cock.


“A couple of pointers.  When in the presence of the Inventor, you are to kneel on His left side, slightly behind Him.  That’s where His urinal is always placed.  You are always to maintain an erection, but you may not cum unless ordered to do so.  When your owner wants to use you, He will simply say “drink” and you are to then kneel in front of Him with your mouth open to receive His piss.  If He wants a blow job, He’ll say “suck.”  If you are fortunate enough to get butt fucked, He’ll simply point to where He wants you to bend over.  He usually prefers to fuck guys doggie-style rather than having them lie on their backs, but that can vary.  Pay attention to His directions.  You are never to speak unless asked a direct question, and then answer briefly and respectfully.  He sometimes gets frustrated and releases tension by torturing to death a volunteer on its first day.  So have no expectations of long service.  No one lasts very long.  He usually averages about ten kills a day, which is not a problem as He has hundreds of active volunteers at any given time and thousands of applicants.  It’s important you understand just how little your life matters.  If He decides to keep you alive long enough to need to have you fed, a handler will inform you what to do.  He likes to let volunteers know that their own food, if any,  consists of the entrails of another volunteer that are soaked in piss before serving.  You are to eat doggie style from a dog dish if you are fed.  Given that you are on the high end of sexual attraction with a body type He particularly enjoys, you might be lucky enough to be a prime target in one of His torture/snuff sessions.  If He decides to snuff you in a sex/torture session, it is considered good manners to thank Him as He begins the actual kill.  If you have the exceptional good fortune to be eaten alive, then you are to answer His questions and again express your gratitude as you watch Him cut off and eat parts of your body.  He usually prefers breast meat and thighs along with testicles, but you’ll be pleased to know He also likes to roast the buttocks and occasionally lets the animal live long enough to watch Him consume them.  Your cock and balls will be gone by then, of course, but given your looks and how you’ve taken care of yourself I suspect you have a chance of that result.  He doesn’t like eating the penis – it’s a muscle, after all, and kind of tough – so you might be permitted to eat yours after He cuts it off, just because He likes to watch guys eat their own cocks.  And you don’t have to worry about your body being wasted.  Whatever’s left over will be recycled and used for things like bone meal, leather, and slave or pet food.  The inventor is a strict environmentalist.  Is all that understood?”


“Perfectly, sir.”


“Good.  You have done well.  Now you can walk through that door and someone will take you to where you can begin your service.  I think you will do very well and provide considerable pleasure to the Inventor through your trivial sacrifice.”



Paul served exceptionally well.  His first two weeks were indeed as the Inventor’s favorite urinal, and he was proud of the yellow slave collar he wore to signify his use.  (After all, the Inventor could hardly be bothered to remember which slaves were trained for which functions.  The identifying collar meant He wouldn’t accidentally snuff His urinal.  The volunteers scheduled for that day’s snuff sessions wore red slave collars.)  The Intake Officer had alerted his employer to Paul’s virgin status and had suggested the Inventor consider Paul as a possible fuck target and  live entrée.  After several delightful weeks of service drinking piss and sucking cock not only for the Inventor but for the employees and others the Inventor  held meetings with – including the Intake Officer, who deposited a particularly large load of both piss and cum down Paul’s eager throat – the Inventor informed Paul that he had not chosen to damage his body during the torture sessions that were part of every volunteer’s daily routine because he didn’t want to scar Paul’s wonderful skin or bruise his meat.  Instead, Paul learned that he was to be simultaneously buck-fucked and eaten that very evening.  Paul’s yellow slave collar was transferred to the new urinal and Paul now wore a green collar signaling his imamate use as food.  Paul was so excited at this prospect that he almost shot his load, but with great self-control he managed to just leak a little more than his usual pre-cum.  The Inventor was amused by the reaction of Paul’s cock.  As He talked with Paul He was amusing Himself by applying the final, fatal lashes to another volunteer strung up in front of Him, whole belly and chest were bleeding profusely from the metal-tipped whip and whose cock and balls had been expertly destroyed by the same instrument.  The volunteer let out one final scream before the torture session was over and the dead body was removed for disposal after the staff enjoyed themselves fucking the nice warm butt-hole.  It was one more illustration of the Inventor’s generosity with his employees.  The Inventor, meanwhile, was covered in sweat from the great combo of a workout and torture session.  He released His sexual tension by selecting a red-collared young volunteer to fuck and choke to death as volunteers tended to Him in a large shower.


The Inventor casually explained his decision process to Paul as he showered, and fucked and choked his latest victim..  “ I decided to fuck you and eat you alive.  That’s why I haven’t tortured or whipped you to the extent it would scar you, despite how tempting that has been given your wonderful smooth skin.  The meat not only needs to be alive but also smooth and undamaged.  It was a tough choice, as I also considered skinning you alive and making your skin into a leather jacket.  That won’t work once you’re dead since I’ll be cutting into your skin as my friends and I eat you.  I only like leather made from skin I’ve removed in large smooth sections while the volunteer is alive.   But these are the tough choices I need to make.  I think in your case I’d prefer dining on your body while you watch.  Besides, I want to use that virgin ass of yours.”  The Inventor enjoyed talking with His victims about how they would die, which added to His sexual turn-on from the kills.  The volunteers understood that this was a part of how they could add to His pleasure, and were fully responsive and cooperative, always expressing their gratitude.  Paul was no exception, and complemented the Inventor on His analysis.  Paul also let Him know that this death was Paul’s lifelong dream, which pleased the Inventor.  He liked having a volunteer understand how much of an honor it was for Him to take the time to personally fuck, eat, and kill it.  After all, they were utterly worthless and deserved as painful and humiliating death as possible.


Paul was carefully washed, his asshole was cleaned out with a thorough enema,  and what little body hair he had was removed  – all in preparation for the Inventor’s evening meal.  When Paul was ready he was laid on his back on a specially constructed dining table.  Paul’s legs were spread and an opening at that end of the table allowed the Inventor to walk between them and easily access Paul’s virgin ass.  Paul was excited and his rock-hard cock reflected his enthusiasm.


The Inventor entered with a group of guests, and they enjoyed cocktails and snacks (including the testicles of that day’s snuffed volunteers)  while they examined Paul and commented on various options on how best to fuck and eat  him.  After a conversation that included Paul, who expressed his gratitude once again and offered the thought how the Inventor could simultaneously fuck and eat Paul. Cutting into Paul’s  chest meat while fucking his ass seemed like the most convenient way to enjoy both in Paul’s mind.  To his delight, the Inventor decided to go with that approach, with only a little variation from Paul’s excellent suggestion.  Paul was secretly a little disappointed the Inventor wasn’t going to roast his glutes, which he’d worked so hard to get into shape, but realized that would mean the butt-fuck wouldn’t be satisfying for the Inventor, and that was the only thing that mattered.  However, one of the guests suggested carving them after everyone finished fucking the volunteer, and Paul was thrilled to hear the Inventor agree.  It just wasn’t clear if Paul would still e alive at that point, although it quickly became clear he would not be.  Oh well, no big deal.


One of the most thoughtful aspects of the Inventor’s personality was his interaction with the volunteers.  He got great satisfaction form their suffering and death, but he also enjoyed the fact they were so willing, and he enjoyed chatting with them on how to make their suffering and his pleasure more intense.   “I always enjoy the ideas of my volunteers, and you seems particularly eager to please.  As a reward I think it would be fun to watch you start to cum while I’m fucking you.  So, Paul, you can stroke your cock and you have permission to cum when I tell you to do so.  However, just so you know, when you start to cum I’ll cut off your cock.  The medical types will keep you from passing out, and I want you to eat the cock while I watch.  Then I’ll remove your balls and eat those – unlike the cock, they’re tasty.  As I get closer to shooting my own load – which will take a while, as I plan to enjoy this – I’ll be cutting into your chest and removing some of that wonderful breast meat that is a real favorite of mine.  You’ll be tied down, so you won’t be able to writhe and thrash as much as I’d like, but it’s necessary to keep you from moving so much my cock wouldn’t stay inside you.  We’ll leave one arm free so you can masturbate, however.  Do you prefer to jerk off using your right hand or your left?”  Paul was impressed with the courtesy of that question, and let Him know he tended to use his right hand.


“Fine.  I  want to feel you die, which will increase the intensity of my orgasm as I shoot into your virgin hole.  That will happen while I’m fucking and eating you even though cuts into your breast aren’t necessarily fatal, because everyone else will also be helping themselves to your meat, cutting off the parts they want to eat.  We’ll cook your butt once you’re dead and everyone has had a chance to fuck your carcass, but we want to enjoy your raw meat as you die.  Oh, and feel free to scream.  That makes it more fun for us.  How does that sound?”


“I am deeply honored, sir.  I will do my best to please you, such as by eating my cock once you cut it off.  You might consider smearing my cum on my breast meat to add a little more flavor as you cut into me.”


“Great idea.  It’s been a long time since you’ve been permitted to cum, so I suspect there will be a lot of it.  I’ll wat a little as you shoot to get as much out as possible.  Like I said, my volunteers often have great ideas on how to add to my pleasure, which is, after all, their sole purpose.”


Paul was overwhelmed and deeply grateful for this final exchange.  He continued to express his thanks as the Inventor’s giant cock entered his virgin asshole, causing great pain that showed on Paul’s face and pleased his master.  While the fucking started, Paul reached to his own cock and began masturbating for the amusement of the group.  His training paid off as he was able to hold back until the Inventor signaled for him to shoot his last load.  As planned the moment Paul’s throbbing cock finished spewing cum his master lifted a knife from a silver platter being held nearby by another volunteer, and slowly cut off the penis at its base.  Paul’s pleasure turned instantly to extraordinary pain, and he screamed as he had never done before.  Now it was the Inventor’s turn to hold back, as the sight of the severed cock and the sound of the inhuman screams nearly caused Him to shoot His own load.  But He also had remarkable self-control, and reached over to put the cock into Paul’s hand – the same one that had previously been stroking it.  Paul understood, and transferred the drained cock to his moth, where he slowly chewed and eventually swallowed it, as the medics applied treatments to keep him awake and functioning for a little while longer.  They had a particular challenge as the master now used the knife to cut into Paul’s scrotum and remove his testicles, which the master enjoyed immensely while Paul watched another of his dreams come true.  The other dinner guests cheered as the Inventor swallowed the remainder of Paul’s manhood. 


It was remarkable how long Paul stayed alive as the Inventor  continued to pump his sass and He and His guests cut off Paul’s prime meat from Paul’s once-beautiful body.  After carefully slicing into his skin and pulling it aside, the Inventor smeared cum on the meat as Paul had suggested and even had a view of Paul’s still-beating heart as he removed choice pieces of the lean young breast meat.  The diners had nearly had their fill of the lean choice meat before the efforts of the medics were no longer of any avail and Paul began his final death-throws.  That’s when the Inventor shot his own load, shooting a huge amount of cum as he felt Paul die, putting added pressure on the Inventor’s cock and adding to His pleasure.  The Inventor was so thrilled He continued His thrusts and soon shot a second load into the dead body, only then removing His cock so others could do the same.  The life and painful death of a volunteer was such a trivial thing compared to achieving this level of sexual climax.


Paul had done well, and his body provided not only nourishment and entertainment, but it set a tone for what turned out to be a wonderful evening for the Inventor and His friends, filled with sex, torture, and the deaths of five other volunteers.  None of them had the honor Paul did, however, of providing living meat for the worthy Inventor.  Paul’s dreams had been utterly fulfilled.

Replacing Norman An AMS Celebration By Gay Slavemeat

I am indebted to one of my readers for the core idea of the AMS organization, which I turned into a story (with his help) called THE AMS NETWORK.  The premise is an inspiring organization of Sadistic Alpha Males called The Art of Male Snuff, which takes great and deserved pride in how they artfully snuff fellow males for fun and profit, especially sexual fun.


In that story there was a slave named Norman, who is patterned after another reader.  But Norman is still alive at the end of the last story, although destined to be snuffed.  This is a description of a thoughtful, fun party where he gets snuffed, as all male slaves should be.  It contrasts the views of William – Alpha 1 and all-powerful leader of AMS, and his buddy the Chief of Police, who is Alpha 2 and in charge of the Americas.  In emails with the real Norman, I learned he and I share our view of us as snuffslaves who should be used and disposed of by our owners, but differ on how long and in what kind of situation a slave should be permitted to exist and serve, and  how we think the snuff is best done. I think Norman views himself almost like a favored pet, serving his master and put down when no longer able to serve as well as the master deserves.  In my view I am only property, of lower status than a favored chair because an owner can develop a level of affection for a chair and regret having to cut it up for firewood and replace it.  My role Is to get fucked, to suffer extreme  torture and humiliation, and to obey absolutely, especially while I’m being snuffed.  So I serve as a human urinal and sex object for the pleasure of an alpha male and his friends.  I am grateful for that use because it is what I deserve.  When and how I am snuffed is not only not my choice but none of my business. Should a chair get to comment on whether it’s chopped up for kindling or sold to another owner?  But in the end we both agree it’s the alphas who rule.   And another reader pointed out to me the satisfaction of snuffing unworthy males even if they resist.  Killing an unwilling inferior male can be very satisfying for an alpha, confirming his absolute power and superiority.


I welcome ideas and requested themes, along with any feedback – positive or negative – from readers.




Stevie tried hard in high school but hadn’t done very well.  He we held back for a year, but had hoped his last year would be better.  It wasn’t, and despite a lot of effort on his part he flunked two of his courses.  That meant he couldn’t be on the wrestling or swim teams, sports where he was in fact very talented.  And he liked the fact those sports showed off his amazingly fit and sexy body – now  20years old as of today.  He was extremely  handsome and totally gay.  But being gay had meant he was thrown out by his foster parents and forced to live in a homeless shelter.  He was on his own and his situation was one reason he struggled so much in school.  But he somehow knew this was what he served, as everyone around him made clear.


It was early evening on a warm spring day and Stevie was walking to the shelter from school.  He was shirtless, wearing only a tight Speedo swimsuit and flip-flop sandals.  Pretty much everything he owned was in his backpack.  He was in a good mood and enjoying the weather, having just finished swimming practice.  He had cut a deal with the coach so that he could at least still practice with the team, which he enjoyed immensely.  And he liked the conditions the coach (who was openly gay and hugely attracted by Stevie’s great looks) placed on him:  he had to swim nude and after the practices he had to give the coach a blow job.  Stevie was totally OK with those, and since the coach tended to recruit gay swimmers it wasn’t long before most of the team worked out naked both in the pool and in the gym.  After workouts Stevie knelt in the corner of the shower room and provided blow jobs, followed by him jerking off with everyone watching and pissing on him.  Given Stevie’s status it didn’t seem appropriate for any of them to suck him off, which was fine with Stevie.  He liked having lots of good-looking naked guys watch him cum and he shot giant loads all over his chest for their amusement. He also discovered he liked drinking another guys’ piss.  Getting lots of gay sex was the one thing that was going well for Stevie, and his exceptional good looks and willing submissive attitude contributed a lot to his popularity.  He got off big time when other guys dominated and used him, and even more so if they did it with others watching, laughing at him and enjoying the show.  Sometimes guys would amuse themselves by beating him up, to which Stevie did not object and which actually caused him to get more sexually aroused.  The coach instructed the team on how to cause the greatest amount of pain without doing permanent damage.  The beatings soon expanded to including whipping and CBT, and on this particular evening the coach had demonstrated the most effective use of a cattle prod on Stevie’s nipples and balls.  Of course, all the team members practiced on him and the session lasted much longer than usual.  Stevie was sore from the tortures, but glad he could provide them with so much pleasure.  He had shot a truly massive load at the end to everyone’s satisfaction.  The only condition the coach placed is that no one fucked his ass, despite Stevie’s willingness to let them do it.  But the coach was adamant and Stevie was obedient, so he was still a virgin as to being butt-fucked.


As he paused at a light, stroking his hardened cock inside his Speedo, Stevie became utterly confused.  He was suddenly arrested by two NYC policemen who got out of a nearby van parked behind him.  They led him to the back of the police van and as one cop, named Jack, opened the rear door the other, Jeremy, commanded Stevie to strip, taking and opening his backpack.  Stevie objected but the cops made it clear there was no choice.  They were bigger than Stevie and very heavily muscled, although not that much older.  As Stevie took off the Speedo and sandals, revealing his erect cock, Jack examined his backpack, taking out the cell phone and small amount of cash and telling Jeremy there was nothing else worth keeping inside it.  Jack then grabbed the swimsuit and sandals, laughing and stroking the erect penis as he tossed the backpack, swimsuit, and sandals  into a nearby trash can.  Stevie protested even more, telling them that all his clothes and his ID were in the backpack, along with his schoolbooks.  “You just threw away everything I own,” he shouted at them.


“Shut up.  Sex slaves don’t wear clothes or need IDs.  You’ll be assigned a number instead of a name.  A chip will be implanted in you that will provide identification.  And school is over for you other than training on how best to serve your owner.” explained Jeremy mater-of-factly.  As he did so Jack handcuffed Stevie’s wrists behind his back.  Mat was frightened as Jack then slammed him against the back of the van and started feeling out his butt, stroking his cock again (which was still hard, or maybe even harder as Jack stroked Stevie’s naked flesh) and unzipping his own pants.    Jack had moved closer and Stevie could feel the large cock that he assumed would be inserted into his boy-hole as the passers-by stopped to watch.  He was embarrassed but got even more erect.   He was now about to get fucked in the ass for the first time.  And the coach couldn’t object since it was a cop doing the fucking.


“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jack” Jeremy warned.  “This fag isn’t for us.  It’s for the Chief.”


“So I get in a little trouble,” responded Jack, sounding irritated as he pulled out his eager cock.  “I’m horny and this is an ass that begs to be fucked.  Fuck, I think the fag even wants it and the report on him says he’s never been butt-fucked before.  I’m in charge of this precinct and I get to do what I want..”


Stevie didn’t understand what happened next, but suddenly Jack collapsed and was writhing on the ground. He had been tazzed by Jeremy.  Stevie turned to watch as Jeremy cuffed Jack’s wrists and then his ankles, and then pushed Jack into the van.  “not any more you aren’t,” Stevie heard Jeremy announce.  Stevie could see that there were already three other young males in the back, each of whom appeared to be handcuffed, naked, and quite attractive.  Before Stevie could comprehend what was going on he, too, had been tazzed, full power to his balls, and pushed into the van.  As the pain subsided his cock rubbed against the thigh of one of the naked young men, and Stevie ejaculated.  He was embarrassed and justifiably afraid as the young male screamed obscenities and threats at him, but nonetheless his cock burst with ribbons of think cum all over the other youth, despite having jerked off a short time before.  Stevie was confused, but also surprised at how wonderfully intense the orgasm felt.  As Jeremy closed the door, Stevie heard the cop yell to the onlookers.  “OK folks, show’s over.  Move on.”




William’s Morning


William was lounging naked in the warm sun by his pool, having finished a vigorous swim and an exercise routine focused on strength building.  He was in q quirky mood and felt like having some fun.  As he relaxed and admired his amazing body he had of course also gotten horny, so he summoned a slave that was kneeling nearby, naked and erect, ready to serve William as instructed.  The animal was a beautiful 22-year-old youth in perfect shape, whom William enjoyed using as a urinal, sex toy, and torture object.  He liked the grateful and enthusiastic manner the slave displayed when it was used, and how far its dick could shoot a load of cum when permitted to reach orgasm.


“I’m bored and I want you to entertain me by killing yourself.  First, jerk off and shoot your load as far as you can.  After that I want you to lick up the cum and then slowly cut off your cock while it’s still hard and eat it.  Next, you are to cut open your scrotum and remove your balls, wash them, and serve them to me on the silver platter next to me.  While I eat them you are to eat the scrotum and then gut yourself, cutting upward as far as you can.  Then I’m going to fuck you while you finish dying.  The vet will stop the bleeding as you cut off your genitals so it’s not too messy, but I want to see your inwards spill out form the gutting.  Got it?”


“Yes, master, it will be an honor and I hope you enjoy my pain and death” acknowledged the slave as it began stroking its hard dick. The slave was excited at its good fortune.  William – Alpha 1 of the AMS Society – always finished killing slaves once he started emasculating them, and this slave was well aware its only path to freedom was death.  Given how slaves usually died in William’s household, emasculating and gutting himself was a quick snuff.  The slave felt sorry for the other slaves, one in particular, whose deaths likely would be far worse, but at least it would no longer be a sex toy used for torture and humiliation, which Alpha 1 had turned the young male into.  It did exactly as instructed, grateful that it was able to produce a decent load of cum despite having been masturbated earlier in the day as part of William’s morning sex and torture session that he combined with his workout.  The sperm shot across William’s chest and landed on the patio on the other side of his lounge chair.  The slave knew this would please William and crawled to where the cum landed, careful to appear eager and grateful as it licked up the cum on its hands and knees – as William admired the beautiful ass that he would soon fuck and destroy.    The slave was careful to cut slowly as it returned to its original position and sliced off its manhood.  The house veterinarian had been summoned by then, and quickly cauterized the wound as the slave chewed slowly and eventually swallowed its own meat.  Alpha 1’s preferences were well known and the slave did not want to fail. This could get a whole lot worse in a big hurry if it did.


It was hard to concentrate given the pain from cutting into itself, but the slave also did a credible job peeling off the scrotum, removing the balls that were then exposed, washing them, and presenting them to their real owner on the platter.


William’s own cock was now rock hard, enjoying the show and the man-seed snacks.  It was a great show with the slave obeying every command, now having also had the wound from its balls cauterized to keep things tidy.  The show included the slave’s ongoing expressions of gratitude that William expected.  He was pleased how well the slave had been trained, remembering how defiant it had originally been when he purchased it at an auction.


“Now take the knife and slowly gut yourself, cutting upward as deep and far as you can,” William reminded the doomed youth.  “Cut sideways as well so your guts spill out and I can laugh at how wonderfully your body is being destroyed.  I’m going to fuck your ass while you die.  So as I fuck you keep trying to cut further.  It’s fun to watch.  And feel free to scream and to express your appreciation for this honor.”


The slave again did as instructed, starting with thanking Alpha 1, but it was now barely able to function due to the pain and loss of fluids.  Yet, it was extremely close to freedom and determined to achieve it.  “Fuck this asshole.  I can do this and I’ll escape this demon forever,” the dying slave told himself.  Unfortunately for the slave, it mouthed its thoughts as it started gutting itself, and William was watching.


“No one escapes me, especially when they fail to appreciate my generosity in their form of death,” snarled William angrily, summoning the vet.  The slave realized what it had done and reacted in horror.


“Please master, I am sorry.  I didn’t mean any disrespect, but the pain was nearly more than I could handle.  I was just trying to force myself to do your will.  I am truly sorry.  Please have mercy on me.”


Alpha 1 laughed.  “I don’t believe in mercy for slaves.  That’s downright stupid and just makes it worse”.

William turned to the vet, who was himself an AMS alpha.  “Peter, repair this piece of shit and turn it over to the torture research center.  I want it kept at maximum pain for 3 months before it is permitted to die.


“And didn’t this meat have a lover?  I remember a particularly amusing and arousing 69 session with two of them while some friends and I whipped their writhing bodies.”


“Yes, sir.  They are identical twins who are extremely close lovers and do everything they can to support each other.  By letting them fuck each other we got great results in sex and torture sessions like the one you mentioned.”


“Good,” smiled Alpha 1. Send that one to the torture center as well with the same fate, making sure it knows why.  Let them watch each other suffer, and mess with their psyches so they learn to hate each other.  Love creates hope, which can sustain even a slave’s mental state as it is killed.  Slaves deserve despair.


“Also, they only have one cock and balls set between them now, so have them share it.  Cut off the lover’s genitals and attach them to this one.  Since they’re twins that should work fine.  Then after a while remove them and reattach to their original animal.  And so forth.  Oh, and set up a web cam so the AMS viewers can enjoy the fun.”


The doomed slave was now utterly devastated, its concern for its brother and lover overshadowing even its growing pain and despair.


“Please sir, I’m the one who fucked up.  Just punish me.  I deserve it.  Leave my lover to a regular death and extend my punishment to six months before I’m permitted to die as further punishment for me.”


“How utterly sweet,” Alpha 1 observed sarcastically.  “That’s quite a gesture given how intense and constant your pain will be.  I’m touched.  So I’ll grant part of your request.  You will now suffer for six months.  But so will your lover.  He’ll hate you even more when he learns how stupid you’ve been.”


William waved away the slave and the vet, and the animal was dragged to a veterinary center for repairs prior to starting its horrid (but entertaining) fate, the sense of guilt almost equal to the pain and despair.  William, meanwhile, was amused and pleased with himself as he signaled for another slave to be brought over for his morning fuck and kill.  He was hornier than ever, but now he had awakened his blood lust.  This slave would not be offered a quick, easy snuff like the last one.  William was going to have a LOT of fun with it and rearranged his schedule so he could take his time with it.  He also made a mental note to alert his buddy Alpha 2 that there was still work to be done on the drugs and methods used to train their slaves.



The Chief’s Morning


The scene as the Chief finished his morning workout had a different tone than at Alpha 1’s estate, but his morning would also include slave snuffing.  That’s how senior AMS leaders started their day!  After a morning workout that included fucking and whipping to death one of his “used up” slaves (a great cardio workout, over 45 minutes of vigorous lashing that left the slave not only dead but missing the skin on its torso and all of its genitals), he cleaned up and dressed in the leather garb that was almost a uniform for the top Alpha members of AMS.  He was joined by his two naked “butler” slaves, Norman and Anthony, who had helped with hi morning routines.  When the Chief had finished the preliminaries and was ready to officially start the day Norman knelt in front of his master with his mouth open while Anthony positioned himself over a leather fuck bench, making his ass conveniently available for his master’s use.  The Chief, in turn, walked over to Norman, who used his teeth to open the leather pouch covering his master’s genitals, followed by licking his balls and taking his hardening cock into his mouth.  The Chief unleashed a large load of piss down Norman’s throat, which Norman obediently drank, then kept his cock in the slave’s mouth so that Norman could use his tongue to get it fully hard.  But the Chief did not want a blow job, and once the cock was at full staff he moved over to Anthony and thrust it into that slave’s tight slave-hole.  There was no lube or hesitation, since he wanted Anthony to feel pain.  Anthony had only recently become a slave, and he had a tight, near-virgin ass that hurt like hell when fucked by a giant cock like the Chief’s.  Indeed, it had been the Chief who had ended Anthony’s virginity shortly after purchasing him at an AMS slave auction. As the Chief began fucking Anthony he signaled that they could report on their morning tasks and the day’s schedule.  Norman, who was by far the senior slave, spoke first.


“Thank you master.  The latest indoctrination session for the herd when extremely well.  All preliminaries are taken care of in preparation for you reviewing the slaves acquired for the party.  It is a particularly good collection of young males.  There are 60 of them, so there will be the 50 needed unless you decide to cull more than 10 between now and then.  I have alerted the collection team in case you do, of course.”


“So the school administrators and police precincts came through?”


“Yes, master.  Perhaps even better than in the past.  Your generosity for the last shipment clearly paid off, along with very clear instructions as to the body types, looks, and cock sizes you require.   They are all in the age range of 18-23, at their sexual peak, and they are all gorgeous specimens.  We have stored them in the cages for a little over a month, so there has been plenty of time to remove tattoos and body hair, figure out their sexual orientation and desires, test their endurance for pain, and get them used to being publicly naked and treated like the cattle they are.  They are confused and scared, having no idea why they’re here or what’s going to happen.  We have also spotted a clear leader among the group for your initial focus this morning.  Nearly all of them are clearly deserving of being snuffed, although a few were included just because our contacts know your preferences for the event and are motivated to please you.  They  thought you’d enjoy these particular animals and I think they are correct.  I believe one of those merits consideration for ongoing use after the party, perhaps as a gift.  It’s gay and so naturally masochistic it does not need conditioning to gratefully function as a sex slave. And the youth is an amazingly handsome specimen.  The rest are a good mix of gay and straight, dominant and submissive, and so forth.  Your guests should find a nice variety to play with.  We will of course have enough butchers on hand so they can have the carcasses carved to their preferences to take home with them for their meat lockers.  I also took the liberty of arranging for a taxidermist so guests can take a cock and balls set, or a head, as a souvenir or trophy.  Some of the animals have very large cocks, and most are handsome enough to merit being kept in the trophy cases many of your guests keep celebrating their snuff sessions.”


The Chief smiled.  His arrangement with various schools and police was such a win-win approach.  The schools and neighborhood precincts would identify students who were troublemakers, not likely to graduate, or just causing problems.  The Chief and his AMS buddies would gather them up and use them for their entertainment.  The schools would then function better, the streets would be safer, no one would miss these losers, and society would not have to deal with them as criminals or other drags on the communities.  The AMS members could enjoy fucking, torturing, snuffing, and eating great young flesh.  If a few innocent males got tortured and snuffed in the process, that was hardly an issue given the contribution to society the Chief was making.  And the Chief even had AMS reimburse the cops and administrators for their efforts – very generously.  A few of the administrators even used some of the money to help out the schools, although most of it went for their own pleasures.


The Chief also smiled as he looked at his two slaves.  He had owned Norman for 10 years, and the slave was amazingly obedient and efficient.  The Chief had no doubt every detail would be handled perfectly, including some he hadn’t considered, such as arranging for guests to have slave parts as souvenirs of the evening.   But Norman had aged, and his service as a sex slave had taken its toll on his body.  Not only was his ass no longer very tight, (a function of being fucked so often -literally thousands of times – not just with cocks but with dildos and especially with fists), but all the electricity applied to his genitals had reduced the slave’s sperm production, albeit not by much.  Norman was still amazingly fit and still made a great and exceptionally reliable sex toy, but the trends were not favorable.


The Chief liked fisting slaves, and Norman had been his favorite target.  He’d considered having the vet do some repairs, but concluded it was just time for Norman to be snuffed.  To that end he had branded Norman on the chest a few months back as a “snuffslave” to remind him of his status and ultimate use.  Norman had of course cooperated and thanked the Chief for the clarification.  They even had quite pleasant and informative conversations on how the Chief could get the most pleasure from killing him and what use to make of the body.  The Chief was especially pleased with Norman’s idea of using him as fertilizer, since his meat was not young enough to be of the highest quality.  They had reviewed the Chief’s floral garden to identify the plants that would benefit from Norman’s ground-up remains, and Anthony had made notes for future use by the gardening slaves.


The Chief had purchased Anthony as a replacement, consulting with Norman to assure the new slave would have the right characteristics and attitude, which Anthony clearly did.  Though new to slavery, he had been carefully trained and conditioned using the methods the Chief had developed to transform candidates into willing slaves.  Anthony was both gay and naturally highly masochistic, so it had worked especially well.  The Chief got his maximum sexual pleasure from young males like the one he’d destroyed this morning with his whip, but he also liked “grown-up” slaves who were mature, fit, handsome, obedient, and accepting of their purpose and fate.  Anthony was in his late 30s and fit all those characterizes, being every bit as obedient and eager to serve as Norman.  He knew the Chief would snuff him when he felt like it, and that was perfectly OK.  Fuck, it was the way things should be for slaves like him and Norman.  They were property, to be disposed of when their usefulness faded.  Further, Anthony had one advantage over Norman.  Norman endured pain, knowing it was his master’s right to inflict it and desiring to provide every possible pleasure for his master.  But Anthony was more of a masochist and enthusiastically welcomed pain and humiliation, getting even more hard as he was whipped and beaten while others watched and got off sexually as he suffered.  His obvious gratitude for the pain and humiliation made the sex/torture sessions even more pleasurable for the Chief and his fellow AMS members, which, of course, is the only thing that matted.


“How well did Anthony handle the gutting this morning?” the Chief asked Norman.


“Extremely well, master.  There were two fat pigs that had also been collected with the herd, and he took a full hour each for the vivisections, remaining fully erect and doing a nice job fucking each pig once it was dead.  I was able to watch the other slaves carefully to confirm our conclusions as to aggression and attitude.  I am confident he is ready to assume full responsibilities whenever you decide to dispose of me.”


The “gutting” of the fat teens was a part of the indoctrination process that the Chief left to other slaves.  In addition to the miscreant students the districts and precincts would also send a few candidates teens who were very fat.  Obesity was a big turn-off for the Chief (who was as fit as he was large), so Norman always processed those animals.  As the other slaves watched form their cages, the fat pigs would be led to tables where each was instructed to lay on his back and masturbate for everyone to watch.  It was not uncommon, as had happened this morning, for the animal to be unable to do so given their terror at what was happening.  This would generate jeers and laughter from the other slaves, including name calling.  Anthony then announced that the animals obviously had no use for their balls, and after telling the youth to squeal like the fat pig he was, he very slowly removed the scrotum and then each of the testicles, cleaning them off and placing them in a silver bowl for the Alpha males to enjoy later.  At this point the reaction of the other slaves was mixed.  Most kept up the jeering, intensifying the name calling to reference their neutered status and cheering on Anthony.  Others became scared, realizing the implications for themselves.  This was the first real damage they had seen to a member of the herd.  Norman took note of these reactions, which would help with sorting the slaves into different snuff groups for the party. The Chief was going to host an important party in a week and wanted to demonstrate a variety of snuff methods as part of the fun.  He also wanted a variety of reactions from the victims to enhance the variety in the entertainment.


Next, Anthony said the squeals had not been loud enough, so he was going to generate more from each pig.  That’s when the actual gutting began.  But it was more than gutting.  As he inserted the knife just above the cocks he cut open the bellies and reached in to remove layers of fat.  These he tossed into a vat near the tables.  He had soon removed all the layers of fat in the torsos, and then did the same in the thighs, legs, and buttocks.  The fat pigs no longer had any fat, and their squeals were inhuman-sounding screams.  Anthony performed the terminal lipofections with great skill and care, managing to avoid cuts that would generate immediate death, and using drugs to keep the animals alive and awake so they would feel all the pain.  As he cut, one of the watching slaves, whom Norman had identified as the natural leader of the group, started a chant of “gut the pigs” that was taken up by most of the rest of them.  There was no sympathy from this group of troublemakers, although Norman observed that several of them were silent, and a couple became ill watching the slaughter.


Once all the fat was removed, Anthony turned to his next task.  Using the penises as a sort of handle, and again cutting carefully, he removed the intestines.  No amount of drugs could keep the animals alive at this point, and as Anthony pulled out the last of its innards each of the fat pigs died.  Anthony hardly noticed, as he took the bloody heap and tossed it into the food troth from which other slaves doled out daily food rations into dog dishes placed in the cages where the slaves were kept.  The caged slaves were permitted to kneel and eat their daily portion of cheap dog food drenched in piss.  Anthony used a hoe to mix the innards into the rest of the food, adding his own load of piss to the mixture as he did.    Anthony announced that they would now have a higher protein content, for which they should be grateful, laughing at their shock and horror.  He explained that this demonstration was so they would understand their status and the kinds of things that were going to happen to them.  They would all wind up dead, he announced to the shocked audience, and should be honored that their worthless lives were going to be used to entertain deserving Alpha males.  He explained that he and Norman were also snuff slaves, but ones who knew and accepted their destiny.  This was how the real world functioned.  It was all about the Alpha males, who ruled absolutely.


Anthony also gave them an incentive.  There were many options on how they would die.  Their attitude and cooperation would be a factor in those decisions.  Some lucky ones might just be hanged or beheaded, very quick deaths with minimal pain; others would be eaten alive; others would suffer amazingly painful deaths like these pigs, but far worse and longer lasting.  Their bodies would be used as food, the best cuts of their meat being served to the deserving Alpha males who would be administering their deaths, the other parts being added to the dog food eaten by other slaves, as happened with the pigs.  Or perhaps other uses.  In the case of the pigs, all that fat would be used to make soap, a special brand the Alpha males enjoyed, knowing its origins.  As Anthony was explaining all this to the horrified future victims, he had inserted his own cock into what was left of one of the pig’s asshole and pumped the dead body until he reached a very satisfying orgasm.  He then did the same with the other carcass.


As Norman watched, proud of how well Anthony had done and feeling a special pride as to the effectiveness of the training Norman had provided, he saw the different reactions of the other slaves.  Some were still defiant, others began to beg and plead.  And a fair number had thrown up, physically manifesting the horror they felt.   Norman noted each reaction, and he and Anthony left the slaves to wallow in the sight and stench of the remains of the pigs.  It was a highly successful demonstration.


After Norman finished his report to the Chief there was a pause as the Chief considered his next steps, still enjoying a relaxing fuck of Anthony’ ass.


“Was there a lot of fat?”


This time Anthony answered.  “Yes, master.  The animals were extremely obese and also very large.  This will help as we were starting to run low for our soap production.  The “boy soap” line is very popular, as you know.”


“Yes,” the Chief mused.  “We do clean up on that one.”  Both slaves laughed obediently at the bad pun.  The Chief liked to make puns and they knew a good appreciation of them pleased him, which they genuinely wanted to do.


“The party is now exactly a week away, and we need to get busy testing some of the equipment Norman has identified and acquired.  I suspect this will require using up more than the 10 bodies Norman referenced, so we should get some more right away so we can use those to test and not waste the ones who are already conditioned to at least some extent.  Those won’t have to be of any special quality, so long as they are in good enough shape to be test animals for the torture equipment.  Meanwhile, I do want to inspect the herd.  I assume the cage area has been cleaned out by now?”


“Yes, master.”  Anthony was again the one who answered, having taken over the lead.  “All the slaves have been thoroughly doused with ice cold water from fire hoses and the pigs’ bodies have been removed and processed.  I have taken Norman’s notes and created a spreadsheet for your consideration as to the best uses of each of the slaves.”


“Excellent.  I think Norman is correct, and you are indeed ready to take over.  So the timing should work well for me to snuff Norman at the party.”


The Chief turned his attention to Norman.  “As we have discussed, I have decided to dispose of you, and the party makes an ideal public setting for your death.  While you will be only one more incremental kill, of no more importance than any of the other snuffslaves being killed, I think that adds to the appropriateness of the setting.  You are just property that has outlived your usefulness.  But because I enjoy watching slaves cum as I choke them into unconsciousness, as I’ve done many times with you, I currently plan to do the snuff myself, this time making sure you’re dead by the time you finish your final orgasm and your ass gets filled with my cum.  My guests have all enjoyed fucking and fisting you over the years and I think they’ll be amused by this scene.  Some of them might even want to fuck your carcass, although I’ll warn them about your ass being rather loose from all the fisting.


“But there is an issue. Frankly, over the past several months, as you’ve trained Anthony and gotten things ready for the party, you have shown signs of pride.  That is unacceptable.  I am aware you have done a nearly perfect job in the preparations and the training, and I have always enjoyed the fact you are an utterly reliable urinal with an ability to cum whenever it amuses me for you to do so.  But you seem to forget your status as mere property, privileged to be of use for whatever I choose until you are killed for my amusement.”


“I am deeply sorry Master,” responded Norman, who realized his Master was correct and hung his head in shame.  He already knew full well it was time for him to get dead, and the Chief had discussed with him the method and timing even though it was none of his business.  That was the reason for purchasing Anthony.  And it had actually been Norman who suggested it would be the most fun for the Chief if Norman was killed at the upcoming party, since the Chief’s best friends, including William, Alpha 1, would be there to watch.  After all, the party was in honor of William’s 50th birthday, and it would amuse William for that also to be Norman’s death day.  While there would be 50 slaves killed at the party, like 50 candles snuffed on a cake, Norman was one the guests knew, having served the Chief all those years, and it would be entertaining for them to watch as the Chief fucked him and choked him to death.  Much of Norman’s gratitude was for the likelihood he would die by the Chief’s hands, quite literally since the Chief was so fond of strangling slaves.  The Chief loved the feeling of life literally flowing out of their bodies as their ability to breathe was cut off.  The Chief was expert at timing his own climax to occur as the slave also had its final orgasm simultaneous with its death.


As Norman remained silent, his head still bowed in shame, the Chief continued.  “I have decided on an appropriate punishment.  You will have only one more orgasm, which will be as you die.  I had considered cutting off your cock and eating your balls to accomplish that, but then I’d be deprived of watching and feeling you cum as I choke you to death.  Instead, you will provide an example of obedience and self-control for Anthony.  If you fail, you will not live to participate in the party and your death will be extraordinarily slow and painful.  The needle is on the table next to me, and you are to inject yourself.  You can guess what’s in the syringe.”


Norman nodded, stood up, and moved to the table.  It had a syringe on it with a very large needle.  He bowed to the Chief, and when he received a nod in return he took the instrument and plunged the needle deep into his balls.  He then pressed the plunger and pushed a large quantity of liquid into his scrotum.  It hurt a lot, but he endured it.  He deserved the punishment, but even if he had not it was his duty to obey.  This was his owner’s wish, and he knew that is all that mattered.


The Chief smiled and bragged to Anthony:  “This is one of the best poisons I’ve ever developed.  It’s almost a miracle drug.  You see, it will have no impact on Norman beyond making him exceptionally horny and his cock consistently erect until he has his next orgasm.  It will be very difficult for him to resist masturbating.  But when that happens, it will be fatal.  And unless I relieve the pain by chocking him to death, which will only happen if he can hold off until the party, he will die a massively painful and very slow death.  The drug activates all the nerves in the body and causes them to emit extreme pain signals to the brain.  It takes several days before the body dies since there is no actual damage.  The slave is in total, utter pain but its actual death is from dehydration.  Better still, the version Norman just injected is a newer one that is designed so the body can receive fluids as it suffers, extending the agony to nearly a week in the latest tests.  It is literally death by pain.  The mind is still aware but unable to stop the pain.  So Norman will die whenever he shoots his next load.  He is used up so it’s time for him to die.  But he also has become too familiar and confident, which is not acceptable for a slave.  For that he needs to be punished, and he will be deprived of any sexual release during his last week.  He needs to hope nothing causes that fatal orgasm doesn’t happen too soon.  That will be difficult for an animal that jerks off at least several times a day like he does.  It doesn’t really matter to me, though, since watching a slave die like this is wonderfully entertaining. It’s a “no lose” scenario for me and a “no win” scenario for Norman, as it should be.”


“Thank you, master.” Norman responded.  “I am truly sorry for my transgression and know I deserve to be punished.  I accept your wishes as my duty and am grateful you have taken steps to correct me.”  Anthony said nothing but marveled at how brilliant their master was, vowing to use this lesson to remind him of his status as a disposable object.



Inspecting the Herd


“Attention Slaves!  You are about to be presented to your Master for inspection.  Knell before Him!”


Norman finished his announcement as the Chief entered the slave storage arena, then knelt himself with his head bowed (and his dick hard).  Anthony did the same.  The 60 slaves were held in cages not large enough to permit standing or lying straight, in two rows of 30 cages each that were stacked one row on  top of the other.  The room had been darkened but as the Chief entered bright spotlights illuminated the rows of vulnerable, naked male flesh.


Some of the slaves knelt as instructed, but most did not.  Despite the demonstration with the two slaves who were used to make soap, there was still a great deal of defiance.  This was as the Chief expected, and wanted, and he was looking forward to managing it.  At his nod, Anthony touched a screen on a special remote-control unit, and Norman made a second announcement as the slaves began to convulse and scream.


“Scum!  You have failed to obey and honor your Master.  You will suffer as a result, with electricity flowing through the cages.  The voltage will increase until ALL scum slaves are kneeling.  Those who take the longest to kneel will suffer further pain to teach you to obey.”


As the electricity intensified, so did the screams.  And within a very brief time all but one of the slaves were kneeling.  As Norman had anticipated, it was the one who appeared to be their natural leader.  But as the voltage increased even more, this slave too succumbed and knelt.  The inspection was starting out exactly as anticipated.


Anthony and Norman stood and walked to the cage holding the rebellious leader, which was one on the second level.  The more dominant slaves were stored at that level, so that when they pissed it would drench the more submissive slaves kept on the bottom layer.  Norman and Anthony had observed how, shortly after the slaves had been put in storage, the dominant ones made it a game to see how much piss they could direct at their cellmates underneath them.  Some of the submissive ones even were intimidated into letting them use their mouths for target practice or, better yet, to provide a blow job as the dominant slave lay on the floor of his cage with his hard cock sticking downward into the cage below where the submissive slave could reach it with his mouth and suck off the dominant cell-mate.  Even the dominants who viewed themselves as straight took advantage of this service quite frequently.


The leader, who called himself Bjorn, resisted when the cage door was opened, but Norman and Anthony easily subdued him and dragged him out of the cage in front of the Chief.  Bjorn was a beautiful Nordic specimen with long blond hair trailing down his back and thickly covering his chest and crotch.  He was tall and muscular, with thick biceps suggesting strength that was quite real.  He was a wonderful example of Aryan perfection, and Norman had considered recommending him to the Chief for a special torture session at the party.  But he knew the Chief’s rules, and the leader of a herd like this had to be taken down.


Once again, Bjorn refused to kneel.  But this time they dealt with him more directly.  Despite his strength and athletic ability he was no match for Norman and Anthony combined.  They pushed him against a wall and quickly nailed his hands and feet to the wall, so that he was displayed spread-eagled for the Chief’s inspection.  At a nod from the Chief Anthony took a nearby sledgehammer and used it to crush each of Bjorn’s kneecaps.  Then Norman slipped a wire noose around his neck that was also attached to the wall and ripped his hands free of the nails that were now needed to hold him up.  Now unable to stand, Bjorn collapsed onto his ruined knees, the wire noose keeping him from falling forward but cutting deeply into his neck.  Despite the pain Bjorn did not scream and said nothing.  The Chief admired the toughness.  This animal might have made a great AMS member, but it was too late for that and an example was required for the rest of the herd.


The Chief approached Bjorn, his leather garb towering over the defiant victim.  “You are to remove the leather fasteners and then suck my cock.”


“Fuck you, faggot.  I’m no mother-fucking cocksucker.  If you stick your dick in my mouth I’ll bite it off.”  Bjorn then spit at the Chief.


The Chief’s response was one of amusement.  “You continue to show very poor judgment,” he said with no hint of anger.  The Chief had actually hoped for this sort of response and nodded at his two slaves.  Norman inserted a dental appliance that forced Stevie’s mouth open.  He then took a nearby set of pliers and slowly removed Bjorn’s teeth.  The cocky gang leader was taken off guard, now horrified by what was happening to him and astonished at the level of pain being inflicted.  His will was starting to crack.  When Norman was finished Bjorn’s mouth was bleeding profusely and his pain level was extreme.  The Chief repeated his command, adding that he expected Bjorn to use his tongue to massage the cock and lick off the blood.  But Bjorn still had a level of defiance remaining and  refused again, this time barely able to utter the stream of profanity due to the pain and the bleeding.


“I will not tolerate this kind of language in my presence.  If this scum is unwilling to use its tongue to give me pleasure, it has no purpose.  Remove it.”


Norman quickly used a scissors to cut out Bjorn’s tongue, holding it up in front of the gang leader and also the other slaves, then tossing it into the herd’s food vat.


“Fortunately, you have another hole where you can service my cock.”  And as the Chief made that comment Anthony and Norman lifted Bjorn onto a sling, lying on his back with his broken legs in the air – all set to be butt-fucked.  When he was positioned, Norman knelt in front of his Master and used his own teeth to remove the clasps that covered his master’s giant cock.  He then took that in his mouth and lovingly massaged it to a full erection, which did not take long given the Chief’s level of arousal.  He was totally turned on and thoroughly enjoying himself.  Bjorn fit his ideal sex object and the Chief loved it when the slave showed résistance.   Anthony took a nearby syringe and injected the same poison injected into Norman deep into Bjorn’s exposed balls.  At that point the Chief walked over to the one-time tough guy and rammed his hard cock into the virgin asshole.  Bjorn’s combination of pain, humiliation, pride and homophobia finally broke his spirit and he screamed in.  Then, to his further horror and shame, his cock grew erect as he was being fucked.  A camera was projecting the events onto a large screen in front of the rest of the herd, so everyone could see Bjorn’s reaction.  Most of them jeered and cheered, calling Bjorn a fag who liked getting fucked and deserved it.  They of course had no idea the erection was triggered by the poison just injected into the doomed slave, who was more horrified by this reaction than even the pain he was enduring.  Of course, no one explained the real reason for the erection to him.  The humiliation of this gorgeous homophobe was just too much fun to enjoy.


The Chief took his time and enjoyed a quite satisfying orgasm.  As Norman and Anthony picked up Bjorn he totally broke down, starting to cry and begging for mercy.  They ignored that (although both they and the Chief were delighted with their triumph) and strung up Stevie upside down by his ankles so his broken body was swinging freely like the piece of meat it was becoming.  The Chief added to the pain and humiliation by brutally whipping Bjorn both front and back, causing deep welts in his young flesh, especially the exposed cock and balls.  Once Bjorn was bleeding freely from a massive set of welts all over his body, but with his cock still hard, the Chief addressed the herd.


“You are all slaves, and you will all be snuffed as you deserve.  Your deaths and bodies will be the entertainment and meat course at an important party I’m hosting, which will celebrate the birthday of William, Alpha 1 of AMS, the Art of Male Snuff.  Since it’s his 50th birthday, we are going to snuff 50 of you at the party.  Some of you will die reasonably quickly – the lucky ones.  Others will be much slower, such as those who will be skinned and eaten alive.  And some will suffer excruciating, extreme pain, like this piece of scum I just fucked and whipped.  It’s going to be a great party and a lot of fun, although of course not for you.  No one knows or cares what happens to you, and the world is better off with you being dead.  Having your bodies butchered for meat, soap, and fertilizer is a much better purpose for you and you should be honored to make the contribution of your worthless lives and bodies to celebrate such a great Alpha Male.  You have been drags on society and you deserve your fate. Oh, I know this confuses a few of you who have not broken the rules, but you have the good fortune of having bodies that turn on me and my fellow members.  So you just get to make a contribution that you should be honored to make given your low status and our role as superior Alpha Males.  The sacrifice will be a bit greater because we will take our time torturing you in particular, in amazingly painful and humiliating ways, since your suffering will give us the greatest pleasure.  That is clearly the best use for your wonderfully sexy bodies.


“We really don’t care if you cooperate, but it might be better for you if you do.  To illustrate that, one of my slaves is going to suck off this animal.  That will trigger a reaction from the poison injected into his balls, which will cause him to suffer extraordinary pain – every nerve in his body will send pain signals to his brain – such that he’ll die in agony.  But it will take about a week for that to happen, with no relief from the pain.  The drug even stops him from passing out so he’ll be awake the entire time.  The party is in a week, so he’ll finally die just as the party starts.  We’re going to leave him here for you to observe.  If you fail to obey, we’ll likely do the same to you.  Or worse.


“By the way, my slave who is sucking the cock will also die at the party, or maybe sooner.  But he has been trained to understand his role and accepts his fate with gratitude for the honor of serving an Alpha Male.  You could learn from him.”


As the Chief finished, Norman stood in front of Bjorn and sucked his still-hard cock, which erupted quickly in light of both the physical fitness of the victim and the impact of the drugs.  As the cock emitted its final load of cum, Bjorn began to feel the pain and his body started to gyrate.  He was soon screaming loudly, begging for mercy, and overwhelmed by the unbelievable amount of agony.  It was a great show and a useful object lesson.  The herd would now understand it must obey its owner.




A Well-deserved Promotion, with a Worthwhile Future


Later that afternoon the Chief attended an upbeat celebration at one of the many police stations he supervised.  He was very devoted to the men who worked for him, and it was mutual.  So when one of them was promoted he always made it a point to attend.  But this time he was especially pleased, since the promotion was based on demonstrated loyalty to the Chief and to AMS.


As he entered the Chief saw that everything had been well prepared.  This was also reassuring, as this event had been arranged by Anthony – his first task all on his own.  The Chief was totally confident Anthony was ready to take over for Norman, and wondered if it would be more fun to have Anthony give Norman a blow job that would trigger the torture drugs or to wait until the party and snuff him then.  Tough choices, but fun either way.


The first part of the ceremony was to be a gang rape and orgy, and the Chief saw that everything was in place, including the target, and all the officers were already naked, erect, and ready to party.  The object of the rape was suspended from the ceiling  and had already serviced the horny crew over the past several days.  This was an ongoing party.  The target knew what was likely to happen next and bore a justified look of considerable fear.  But he also knew things would be far worse if he didn’t cooperate.  His only relief would be his death, and he hoped that would happen soon.


The Chief, decked out in his AMS leather, was handed a drink and proposed a toast:


“I am so proud of all of you, and especially of our new precinct captain, whose promotion we are celebrating today.  Jeremy is the kind of officer I want all of you to use as a role model.  As you can see now that he’s naked, he keeps himself totally fit and has a great cock and a nice ass.  I can especially attest to the latter, as I can with most all of you and will with those I haven’t tested yet.  I’m guessing you’ll all soon get a chance to learn how well his cock functions, up close and personal.”  There were chuckles in the room.  The Chief enjoyed fucking his staff, as was his right, and they all respected him for it and admired his stamina and giant cock.  Being fucked with a cock that size was painful, but giving the Chief pleasure was more than worth the pain.  They knew Jeremy would do the same, and he had been a great role model when the Chief would visit the precinct to inspect, which would include Jeremy stripping naked along with a few other guys and the Chief fucking all of them as the rest of the precinct watched in admiration and jerked off for the Chief’s further amusement.  The staff, in turn, had free reign of those below them in rank, and of course everyone used the prisoners however they wanted.  There were no limits there unless the Chief had designated a prisoner for his own use or an AMS event..


The Chief continued.  “As you all know, Jeremy was the most successful cop at cleaning up our streets by removing the scum that pollute our city. And he is also astute about the opportunity to provide extra quality for senior Alpha Males of AMS, as you can see from the sex slave kneeling in the corner and serving as our official urinal today.  That slave, formerly known as Stevie, is of exceptional quality and it would be a waste to include it in the regular herd.  I am keeping its ass virgin until my party next week, and if it weren’t for Jeremy that would not have been possible.  So let’s toast his success and give him a huge cheer.”


Everyone raised their glass and cheered loudly as Jeremy beamed with gratitude.


“I am also pleased to announce that Jeremy will not only be the captain in charge of this precinct, but he approached me with a request to apply for a position as one of my “butler” slaves, ready to take over when I decide to snuff Anthony.  I have agreed, and since he’s just in his early 20s this will likely be a smooth transition in about a decade, as it is with Norman getting snuffed next week and replaced by Anthony.  He and Anthony did a great job working together on this transition and planning my party next week, and I am confident that partnership will continue between Jeremy and Anthony once I snuff Norman. And like our urinal, Jeremy is utterly obedient by his nature and I don’t anticipate needing to do any conditioning.  He is a great Alpha Male and will lead you well in that role, including applying appropriate discipline and enjoying your bodies and those of other males of lower rank than he is.  But he ultimately was born to be a slave, knows it, and is now able to look forward to someday functioning in his highest and best use, serving a very senior AMS leader.  As a future slave he will always remain naked, even here in the precinct, but don’t misunderstand.  That is the only concession to his future role.  He’s  in charge and for now, and for years to come,  I am the only one with permission to fuck him.


“And that brings us to Jack, who disgraced himself and will be leaving us in due course – literally turned into a piece of shit after we enjoy eating his meat.  Of course, that won’t happen until we’re all done fucking his ass and torturing his body.  He will serve as a lesson for all of you on what happens when someone breaks the rules.  There is no forgiveness and those who disobey die horrible deaths.  I understand all of you have been having tons of fun with him over the past few days, and I can see the evidence of cuts  and welts on his body.  These look like more than the usual whipping aftermath.  It also looks like you turned his balls into pin cushions and I don’t see much left of his nipples.  I also see he’s now devoid of body hair, which is quite a change from his usual thick mat on his chest, crotch, and back.  I just hope his ass is still nice and tight, like I remember it, so I can enjoy fucking it as he dies.  It looks to me like you guys have done a great job teaching him the first part of his lessons.  So, with that, let’s enjoy a fun orgy and make sure Jack gets the death he deserves.”


Jeremy spoke next as the crew started to move Jack onto a nearby fuck bench so everyone could humiliate him one more time.


“Good observations, Chief.   It turns out Jack wasn’t very popular.  So we started by cutting off his body hair.  We used a straight razor so it would cut him if he resisted, which I’m pleased to say he did a lot.  Those are the larger cuts you see added to the welts from when we whipped him.  We made sure there was not only no body hair left, but no part of him that wasn’t solidly lacerated.  The balls were particular fun.  We had a game of “pin the tail on the donkey” but with a few changes in the rules.  Everyone had large needles, and no one was blindfolded.  So we could put the needles where we wanted, and we all chose his balls.  In the second round we added his cock and nipples, and a couple of guys nailed his tongue.  That shut up the string of profanity we were getting tired of.  The nipples are gone because we thought it would be fun to rip them out, which it was.  Oh, and his ass is full of cum and his belly is full of piss, so we’ve made good use of his mouth and butt.”


“Wow.  Sorry I missed the fun.  Should I assume the cock doesn’t work anymore?  It looks pretty shriveled.”


“No.  We decided he didn’t deserve a final orgasm so we’ve been highly aggressive in having fun with his cock and balls.”

The Chief nodded and walked over to where a couple of the crew were holding Jack.  “Before you lay him on his belly on the fuck table, we might as well finish off that part of your fun.”  The Chief then took out a pocketknife he always carried, opened the largest blade, and reached down to Jack’s genitals.  He had one of the guys take out all the pins, and then he slowly cut off Jack’s shriveled cock.  “This is certainly worthless,” the Chief scoffed, as the crew all laughed.  Then he tossed the muscle, once Jack’s primary source of pride, to where the slave once called Stevie was obediential kneeling.  At the Chief’s signal Stevie bent down, picked up the cock with his mouth and ate it.  A little blood dripped down his chin, but one of the crew quickly washed that off with piss, emptying the rest of his load down Stevie’s willing throat.


“Well, laughed the Chief.  Our urinal slave even got a chaser with his snack.”  As the crew laughed even louder, and Jack looked on in horror, the Chief next cut off the scrotum, separating the two testicles and offering one to Jeremy as the Chief swallowed the other.  But they used the expensive champagne being served at the party as their chaser.


The Chief encouraged everyone to do their last fuck of Jack’s ass, to continue whipping and applying a cattle prod to his body, and to cut off a small meat snack to eat in front of Jack as he was forced to watch.  “We’ll enjoy the main course after he’s dead and we butcher him, but I want him to get a feel for being eaten alive so he knows how lucky he is that we’re going to fuck him to death,” the Chief instructed.


Once the gang rape was done and everyone had enjoyed a snack, the Chief positioned himself behind Jack’s bleeding butt and inserted his giant cock into the much-used hole.  It was nicely lubricated with a massive amount of sperm, and the Chief regretted that this reduced the pain for Jack.  But there were compromised that had to be made to get the thrill the Chief was after.  The Chief loved the feel of achieving his climax as the guy he was fucking was painfully snuffed, dying simultaneous with the Chief’s orgasm.  Meanwhile, Jeremy had forced an O ring into Jack’s mouth that prevented him from closing it, and inserted his own hard cock down Jack’s throat.  Jack wasn’t used to giving blow jobs, and gagged at the size of Jeremy’s cock.  Jeremy went in and out for a bit so Jack could get used to the experience, but then he inserted his cock all the way down Jack’s throat, thrusting it vigorously as the Chief did the same up Jack’s ass.  The two colleagues leaned forward and the Chief inserted his tongue deeply into Jeremy’s throat, further increasing the pleasure for both men.  Then, as Jack realized he could not resist Jeremy’s cock, he also realized he was effectively being strangled.  He tried breathing through his nose, but the cock fully occupied his throat and windpipes.  Jack slowly faded as the pain of no oxygen increased, and the two experts perfectly timed their thrusts and orgasms so that they each shot their loads into Jack exactly as Jack painfully died.  There was loud cheering form the crew, many of whom also shot a load as they watched this amazing show.


Several of the crew now moved Jack’s body to a carving table and expertly cut his meat for everyone to enjoy.  Accompaniments were brought out and the party continued with lots of great conversation and comradery.  As they celebrated the Chief fucked Jeremy in the ass, which was familiar and highly pleasurable territory for both of them, one that would be repeated more often when Anthony was snuffed and  Jeremy changed roles.  Jeremy liked being fucked in public, and he was totally comfortable with his new status – both as the Alpha Male head of the precinct and as a future slave belonging to the Chief for whatever use the Chief choose.


As the celebration concluded, the eager young urinal watched in wonder.  It knew it was not worthy to perform actual tasks like Jeremy or Anthony.  It knew its use was just for sex and to suffer as much pain and humiliation as was possible.  It wondered why it had not been fucked yet, or seriously tortured or whipped, but knew its owners would do so when the Chief was ready.  What was done with it was none of its concern.   it was just grateful beyond measure to be the property of such an outstanding owner.  If it’s role was just that of a urinal for now, so be it.  He would do that job well, as instructed.



The Birthday Party


The day of the party had finally arrived, and the guests assembled in the early afternoon to start the celebration.  As they entered the huge dungeon their first sight was of 50 young oriental males standing on a stage, naked and erect with their hands tied behind their backs and nooses around their necks.  The specimens were amazingly beautiful, their young skin smooth and fit, glistening with oil that made their bodies reflect the light. Their faces bore broad smiles of welcome.  When everyone had arrived, AMS Director Fong walked onto the stage and stood in front of them.  He was a large alpha male attired in the same leather garb as William and the Chief, and his leather vest identified him as “Alpha 3.”  He looked out over a sea of eager AMS members, of all ages and body types.  Many wore the same AMS leather attire that he did, while most others were totally naked.  And there was every variation in-between.  AMS valued its diversity, which was reflected not merely in attire (or lack thereof) but in race and ethnicity.  What united them all, and was not negotiable, was a core commitment to the Art of Male Snuff.  And for that purpose there was an even greater number of naked slaves ready to be snuffed.  Many understood and accepted their purpose and fate, but many would resist.  Both would provide pleasure, especially sexual pleasure, for their deserving owners.  It would be a wonderful party.


“On behalf of the Chief and myself, welcome to this great celebration.  As you know, as Alpha 3 of AMS I have responsibility for Asia, which I’ve run now for over 25 years.  Knowing that this event would come to pass, I arranged a major breeding event 20 years ago.  I contributed a considerable amount of sperm that was used to breed over 75 males.  Those were raised as slaves and taught that their purpose was to someday provide brief entertainment for Alpha 1 when he turned 50.  You will note that they look alike – even for Chinese, who of course all look alike to you Caucasians (everyone laughed) – but in this case it’s also because they are half-siblings and the surrogates were also selected to look as much alike as possible.  The 50 best specimens are assembled behind me.  We bred extras since we knew some would not be high enough quality, and the extras are also here today for you to snuff however you like.  These beautiful specimens want to offer a traditional song in celebration of Alpha 1’s 50th birthday, which will be followed by a dance in his honor and then a candle-lighting ceremony.”


At this point Alpha 3 stepped off stage, and all 50 slaves bowed deeply in deference and respect.  The purpose for their existence was about to be fulfilled.  (The ropes around their necks were loosened from above to permit the bow, then tightened again.)  As they finished their bow and stood with every aspect of their bodies erect (especially their throbbing cocks, which pointed upward from their sexual arousal and dripped pre-cum), they began to sing:


“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Alpha 1, Happy birthday to you.”


Everyone laughed and joined in.  The idea of all these Chinese slaves singing the traditional English song went over very well with the crowd.  But there was a second verse:


“We’ll die now for you;

It’s what we were bred to do;

our deaths are your birthday gift;

as our cocks shoot on cue.”


At that point the platform under their feet quietly slid open and all 50 beautiful males dropped.  The platform had been designed to be totally silent so the crowd could hear the sound as 50necks were broken and the slaves did that cute little death-dance that is so entertaining when slaves are hanged.  The dance didn’t last long, but it was great fun to watch as the bodies slowed and the heads drooped at unnatural angles, eyes open and smiles still in place.  Best of all, each of the 50 eager slaves had a giant orgasm, its cock erupting with cum that shot out on each other and the watching (and cheering) crowd.  Then, after the quests had a chance to enjoy the smiles turning to expressions of pain as the dancers  finished dying, the lights were dimmed and flames shot up from under the platform, setting on fire the oil with which the young meat, especially their cocks and balls, had been soaked.  The presentation was now of 50 slave candles – lit lanterns wonderfully lighting the room with burning flesh and torch-like flaming cocks, all in tribute to Alpha 1.  Their lives and bodies had been put to an appropriate use for slaves.  When the torches faded the lights came back on and Alpha 3 returned to the stage to the sound of enthusiastic clapping and cheering as the guests continued to enjoy the sight and also the aromatic smell of cooking slave meat.  His gesture had been well received.  He bowed to Alpha 1.  “William, my friend and leader, I wish you the best birthday ever and hope this will prove a good start to the afternoon.”


William joined him on stage and graciously expressed his appreciation, complimenting Alpha 3 on a great show and also thanking him for his outstanding leadership running the Asia division of AMS.  “This display is just one example of your great organization and creativity, and of how you always plan for the future.”


The Chief joined his colleagues and the three leaders embraced.  The friendship and respect among them were obvious, a great example for the other guests.  The Chief spoke next.


“Let me add my welcome to all of you, and my congratulations to Alpha 3 on a great show.  What a wonderful use for these animals, and we’ll all share in generous cuts of meat as they are butchered for our dining pleasure.  But we’ll leave them hanging here for a while so we can all enjoy the scene.  Fifty freshly hanged slaves with their cocks nicely burned off is a great sight.   And don’t worry, we’ll put the bodies onto fuck benches before we butcher them for those of you who would like to fuck them.


“Most of all my welcome goes to my friend and leader, William, Alpha 1, with great good wishes for this birthday.  I hope this celebration is worthy of him and this occasion.


“As you know, William has recently appointed me to run the European division as well as the Americas, pending replacement of Alpha 4.  His performance had not met our standards, so William, Director Fong, and I snuffed him a few weeks ago.  To his credit, he understood and cooperated, providing a worthy death and an excellent meal.  Alpha 1 will announce a successor in due course, but in the meantime I have responsibility for that area.  So, since I also know how much William is interested in European history, I thought it would be fun to make that, especially British history, our theme for the afternoon and evening.  You will note that the dungeon has been filled with numerous devices used over the years in torture and executions by our European forebearers, and we have assembled a group of 50 more slaves who will be used to demonstrate them, a number chosen, of course, in honor of our beloved Alpha 1.  I hope everyone has a great time and enjoys the fun as we snuff all 50 of these slaves, and an ample supply of others, for your amusement and in honor of the occasion.”  The crowd clapped in appreciation, and at this point other slaves brought drinks and appetizers for them to enjoy, including a generous supply of fresh testicles and other slavemeat treats.  (The 100 testicles being served had once been attached to 50 young males held in a detention center, part of an experiment to see if they would reform better if turned into eunuchs.  It was an AMS research project that was one more example of their community service.)


The slaves being snuffed were, of course, the truant teens and street scum rounded up earlier and conditioned in the Chief’s slave cages.  Some had been trained as slaves under the methods developed by the Chief, so they would be appropriately obedient.  Others had not, so the guests could enjoy inflicting pain and watching them die horrible deaths on the torture machines despite their efforts to resist.  The Chief started the fun by pushing one of those into the heated Iron Bull placed near the stage.  This was an old Roman idea, consisting of a bull made of iron which had a flame under it that made it red hot.  A naked slave would be pushed inside, and reeds on the bull’s mouth would emit the sounds of the slave creaming as he burned to death.  The fun part was that the reeds made it sound like an actual bull, a source of amusement that always pleased the Roman onlookers. The Chief, at Norman’s suggestion, made it more fun by making the bull out of tempered glass, so the guests could watch the slave’s agony as it was burned horribly no matter where its naked flesh touched the inside of the bull.  The teen he selected had been particularly uncooperative so it was even more fun than usual to watch and listen as the desperate animal suffered in despair.  A careful balance of temperature assured constant burning but also meant the slave would remain alive for at least an hour to prolong the agony.  A new slave would replace it when it finally died.


“By the way, Chief,” William asked as the three senior AMS leaders left the stage to enjoy the party.  “Whatever happened to that slave you had for such a long time?  I think its name was Norman.  I thought you were going to finally get around to snuffing him.”


“I am, and he will die tonight,” answered the Chief.  “He’s a great organizer and I wanted to use him to help on the party.  He located and designed a lot of the torture equipment, and he did a great job as you’ll see.  I also had him train a successor, who is one of the urinals.”  The Chief pointed at Anthony, who was kneeling near the two Alpha males, ready to receive any piss they might need to get rid of, or to be fucked if they felt like doing that.  Or snuffed.  Anthony bowed to the ground in respect for his master and William.  As he returned to kneeling, William signaled to him that he was to use his teeth to unclasp the leather covering William’s cock, after which William took advantage of the new slave and unloaded a giant gusher of piss down its throat.  “Well, the slave does seem well trained as a urinal,” observed William.  “Does it also have a tight ass?  As I recall Norman became pathetically loose.”


“It does,” answered the Chief.  “And I encourage you to check for yourself, although I don’t plan to kill Anthony for a while since he’s very useful, and there are lots of young twinks for you to fuck and snuff that are probably more to your taste.  You can fuck Anthony any time you feel like it since he’ll probably be around.  But if you decide to snuff him that’s obviously your right and perfectly OK with me, and with him.  I’ve already picked his successor, although that male is probably not quite ready to take over yet.”


“Do you intend to keep this one  for years like you did Norman,” asked the Chief.  He had never really approved of keeping a slave for many years, since he viewed them as mere meat useful for sex and the pleasure of torturing them as they died for his amusement.  He hired staff to perform the sorts of duties the Chief assigned to Norman and Anthony.


“Probably not as long, but I do find slaves useful as staff.  I know you disagree, but I think they can serve useful purposes as sort of “man servants” who get to know what I want done and take care of it with total obedience.  I don’t think your staff is as reliable, although the fact you torture them to death if they fuck up does help motivate them.”  The two friends laughed at the exchange, which they had been doing for decades.  It was a friendly disagreement, and William had actually decided to convert some his house staff to longer-term slaves, using the Chief’s conditioning to assure their complete obedience.  It would be fun to dispose of them when they outlived their usefulness, and it would cost less since they would not need salaries, clothing, medical care, or pensions.  Housing could be in bunk rooms and they could eat table scraps, dog food, and the entrails of snuffed slaves.  Of course, his sexual pleasure would still be focused on young twinks whose bodies he thoroughly enjoyed destroying in horribly painful deaths.  A smooth, 20-year-old twink was his favorite sex object by far.


“So where’s Norman”” William asked, his curiosity aroused.  The Chief pointed to a scaffold beside them, where Norman was displayed hanging slightly off the ground with his cock erect and a noose around his neck.  William did have to admit (to himself) that the slave, although old for William’s purposes, was still an excellent specimen of male flesh, with a fit and handsome body and a very decent sized cock.  Maybe the Chief had a point.


“Are you going to leave him there until he dies from strangulation, or do you have something else in mind?”


“I’ll take him down and snuff him personally in a while.  The noose isn’t tight enough to strangle him, just to make him suffer.  I want him displayed and humiliated but I also want the fun of a personal kill.  I want to feel him die as I fuck his ass and choke him.  Afar all, despite the effect of the Hell Drug being injected into him a week ago he’s managed not to cum, which is a remarkable demonstration of obedience and discipline.  I think killing him personally is a good reward.  It’s what he wants.  And I knew he wanted to hang around for most of the party, which I obviously arranged.”


That was too much for William. He was used to the Chief’s bad puns, but the thought of rewarding a slave was beyond his comprehension.  He shook his head.  “Sometimes I think you’re getting soft in your old age, my friend,” he admonished.


“Hey, I’m not the one dealing with old age,” responded the Chief, which got a groan and a laugh from his friend.  Of course, there was only a year’s difference in their ages, as William was quick to point out.  But the Chief had clearly won the round of jesting.


Meanwhile, guests were mingling, enjoying the drinks, meat snacks, and exhibits.  One that was particularly popular was the “wheel,” a medieval British torture that involved tying the victim cock-side up to a large wheel and then turning it over a set of spikes that would tear into the flesh.  It quickly turned into a betting game based on how many times the slaves could survive being punctured by the spikes before they died.  But this wasn’t as popular as the “pit and pendulum” station, based on the delightful Poe story.  Unlike the story, the slave of course was not rescued and, better yet, it was sliced in half lengthwise.  It had taken a lot of practice to get it right, but Norman had designed the device so precisely that it even sliced the cock and balls lengthwise, splitting the scrotum so each half of the slave had a testicle and half its penis.  (The penis was kept erect by drugs and stapled to the belly to keep it in place.)  The best part of this fun station was the growing terror the slave exhibited as the ultra-sharp pendulum swung above it, closer with each pass until the actual cutting began.


Other popular demonstrations included the rack, which although well known to the guests was still lots of fun as the slave was literally pulled apart for their enjoyment.  There were lots of whipping posts where the guests could participate, taking turns lashing the young animals front and back until their skin was just a mass of bleeding welts and their cocks were literally cut off by the metal-tipped whips.  To assure that result the animals had been drugged to cause the cocks to remain hard until the whips could cut through them.  Some of the slaves were suspended upside down, so the erect cock was hanging down and more readily available as the whip strokes struck the exposed flesh.


For those who wanted to collect slave skin for conversion into leather mementos there were slaves tied down to tables where they could be skinned alive as their flesh collected for that purpose.  All the torture stations had written displays giving the history of the torture, and this one pointed out how Henry VIII not only skinned alive the monks who didn’t follow him but nailed their skin to the door of their abbey as a warning to others.  The Chief knew what a fan of history William was, and all the guests enjoyed the extra detail.


Well-endowed slaves were displayed so their huge cock and balls sets could be removed to be turned into an artistic memento of the event.  As Norman had predicted, this was especially popular given the impressive size of some of the young cocks.  Besides the betting on when a slave would die at a particular torture session, there were contests among the guests so they could show off their skill, especially at archery and (even more popular) axe throwing.  The arrows were aimed at the heart and the axes were aimed at the erect  cocks.  But one exceptional archer managed to get an arrow perfectly into the piss slit, generating considerable cheers and collecting on a lot of bets.  After each contest the dead slave was beheaded and its head was presented to the winner as a trophy.


Perhaps the most popular of all the exhibits was one commemorating the quant British tradition of having a criminal hanged, drawn, and quartered.  This was reserved for the teens who had been least cooperative and were the best looking.  The Chief wanted to display handsome bodies that were strongly resisting their deserved fate.  As was the tradition in the Middle Ages in England, the slaves were first tied to a wire rack that was dragged from the cage area on a meandering route to the scaffold.  That way the guests could observe the animals and enjoy their struggles and terror, while also spitting, pissing, and whipping the bodies as they were slowly dragged to their doom.  It was very satisfying and the slave was dragged very slowly to maximize the show.


Eventually the slave would reach the scaffold and be pulled up to stand under the noose, which was carefully placed around its neck.  The key at this point was not to have the body drop very far, breaking the slave’s neck and killing it much too quickly.  Instead, there was just a short drop sufficient to partially break the neck and trigger the slave’s final orgasm, an essential part of the entertainment.  Then the slave was slowly pulled into the air, its legs dangling for the amusement of the onlookers.  To be sure there was adequate pain and damage to the animal, these nooses had a refinement, which was a thin wire on the inside of the noose that would cut into the slave’s neck as it hung on display, cum and then piss dripping from its spent cock.  The more the slave moved the deeper the cut.  So the hangman would push the body to gain that effect.  The notice by the station pointed out that this wasn’t the way it was actually done in olden days, when there was an effort to have the prisoner hang alive in pain for a period of time, but there would be more of a drop.  But as famous criminals like Guy Fawkes had demonstrated, if there was a material  “drop” a clever victim could actually jump just before the drop and gain enough extra leverage to assure its neck was broken enough to cause a very quick death.  The Chief would not run that risk.  These slaves were to die as slowly and painfully as possible, with maximum humiliation and entertainment.  Pushing the body so it swung while the wire cut into its neck worked great for that purpose.


The Chief also enhanced the next steps, which started after the slave was cut down from the noose and placed on its back on a bench.  The executioner would bring the slave back to the point of orgasm and then cut into the genitals as it again started to cum.  The slave’s innards would be “drawn” out of it, starting with the genitals and then slowly reaching the intestines, carefully enough so the slave would not escape into death.  This was where using a fit young male made it possible to have a much better spectacle.  The same was true with quartering, although it was technically “sixing” since the executioner would cut off the cock and intestines, then each arm, each leg, and, finally, as the slave died it would be beheaded.  It was a great show.   For one of the sessions the Chief also threw in a wrinkle to add to the fun.


“Every party needs a clown,” the Chief announced.  So I thought we’d have some fun with a clown executioner who’s easily confused.”


At that point a young male entered the room, naked and erect with his face painted into a clown mask.  He pretended to read a piece of paper in his hands, then  looked down at his genitals and addressed the guests.  “Let’s see, the instructions say I’m supposed to generally inflate some balloons.”  I think that means my genitals, so I guess the existing ones have to go.”  The guests giggled at his “confusion” over generals v. genitals but enjoyed the scene as the clown proceeded to take a nearby knife and cut of his cock.  Holding it up as it drained, he pretended to look for a peace to throw it away, and upon seeing none he popped it into his mouth and ate it.  His scrotum was next, but this time he found a place to deposit the testicles, offering one to the Chief and the other to William.  Then he ate the leftover skin.  Another slave appeared at this point and cauterized the open wound so the clown wouldn’t bleed to death before the end of the show, and then handed him three balloons, two round and one cock shaped.  With the help of the “assistant” the clown attached them to where his “generals” had once been.  The idea had been to make the clown look as ridiculous as possible, and it was quite effective.  The giggling had now turned to laughter and jeers.


“Task 2,” read the clown.  “Hang, draw, and quarter your assistant.”  The assistant pretended to try to escape, but the clown grabbed him and pushed him down onto a nearby torture table.  The clown paused for effect, then quickly secured the victim’s wrists and ankles to the four corners of the table.  “Got it,” he announced triumphantly.  “Quartered, drawn, and hanged it will be!”  As the audience watched and laughed ever louder, the pretend idiot took a clown-style saw and proceeded to saw off each of the victim’s arms and legs, slowly and carefully so the audience could enjoy watching and listening to the infliction of pain and resulting screams.  Some of the humor came from the fact the clown’s genital balloons bounced around and got in the way, with the cock balloon popping at one point. It had been partially filled with cum, which leaked out in front of the absurd-looking clown.  As the laughter grew the balloon was quickly replaced, and soon the two arms and legs were detached and hanging from the four corners of the table as the clown turned to the next part of the process.


The victim had been treated with drugs to assure its cock would remain hard during the vivisection, and the clown stroked it as he picked up a knife to begin “drawing” the victim.  That resulted in the cock erupting with a final orgasm as the knife cut into the base of the scrotum and the clown began pulling out the entrails.  He kept pulling until he had a considerable mound of intestines piled up, and then pretended to notice the victim was near death.  “Better hurry!” exclaimed the clown, and he pulled down a noose that hung over the table and placed it around the neck of the dying torso.  As the victim faded, it was pulled by its neck up off the table, and shortly thereafter it died, having been quartered, drawn, and hanged.  It too looked absurd, with its limbs cut off and a very long string of entrails hanging from where its cock had once been.


The clown then pretended to reread the instructions and realize its error.  “Oh no,” it exclaimed.  “I fucked up again!  My master will be very unhappy with me.  I better punish myself.”  And with that the clown walked to a nearby guillotine and laid down on its back.  But it was upside down on the table, with its legs and butt positioned under the blade.  The clown used some pins left on the side of the bench to pop all three genital balloons, and announced to the crowd:  “Sorry I fucked up.  But I hope you enjoyed the show.”  It then pressed a nearby button that released the blade.  The audience laughed and cheered as the blade, much wider than the usual type, sliced the slave’s body in half at the waste, which was of course a far longer, more painful, and amusing death than the traditional beheading.  It had been a fun show for everyone, not only providing a little comic relief to add to the variety of the evening but also demonstrating how completely effective the slave indoctrination techniques developed by the Chief were in achieving the absolute obedience appropriate for slaves.


After the clown fun it was getting close to time for the actual dinner, which would feature live slaves as entree’s.  The Chief went back on stage, where a torture table had been set up with Norman placed on it on his back.


“I hope everyone is enjoying themselves, and please continue to do so.  We have lots more slaves, and there were way more than 50 to choose from.  We deliberately overstocked to be sure everyone can fully enjoy themselves on this great celebration.    So let’s all do our part!”  This got a big cheer.  “But I did want to take a moment for a personal task that I’ve been looking forward to.  As you all know, I’ve kept the slave Norman for ten years, and I have found him very useful.  But he has aged a bit and his usefulness isn’t as great as it was.  So I’ve replaced him with Anthony, and I wanted to share his death with all my friends, since I know I’m going to particularly enjoy snuffing him.  As most of you also know, one of his failings is that his ass isn’t very tight anymore, which might have to do with all the times I’ve (and many of you) enjoyed fisting him as well as fucking him.  But for this occasion I’ve had the vet tighten it up so I can enjoy fucking it one last time.  (Don’t worry, there was no anesthetic .)  And after I’m done we’ll leave the body here for any of you who might want to do so as well, perhaps a nostalgia fuck.  I don’t plan anything elaborate, but it will be satisfying.  Oh, and I realize the meat is not young enough to merit serving it.  So he’ll be turned into fertilizer and spread among some of my favorite plants.  I’m committed to recycling, especially slaves.”


With that the Chief approached the table where Norman lay, his cock now more aroused than ever and his face the very image of contentment and gratitude.  The Chief was also erect, having stripped naked to better enjoy the fuck.  He slammed his cock into Norman, as had been his custom since he had purchased Norman all those years ago, and Norman felt a wave of pleasure that far surpassed the pain.  Then, as the Chief began the rhythm of fucking his used-up slave, he also reached over and grasped Norman’s neck with his strong hands.  The fucking and the choking soon became almost the same motion, as the Chief got more sexually aroused by the reaction of Norman trying to breathe but not being able to do more than just gasp as his windpipe was crushed by his master’s enormous strength.  The Chief had used Norman for breath play many times, but the intensity, and goal, was different this time.  There would be no recovery.  Norman knew that as he felt the Chief near orgasm inside him, and Norman began to lose consciousness.  There was considerable pain, but mostly there was joy at having been a good slave, and the overwhelming pleasure as Norman’s cock erupted simultaneously with the Chief’s.  Norman was snuffed as the Chief’s cock emptied inside of him and his own cock emptied on his chest.  The Chief’s orgasm perfectly coincided not only with Norman’s but also with the wonderful feeling as Norman’s ass tightened as he died and then everything went limp.  Both men were wonderfully satisfied.


A few guests used Norman’s body for fucking, but not all that many.  There were too many younger males to fuck, and they were sexier.  But with the Chief’s permission Anthony did do so, having been totally turned on by the appropriateness of how the Chief had snuffed his former mentor.  It was a fuck of gratitude and hope that he might someday earn the same treatment.  And, again at the Chief’s order, it was followed by Jeremy fucking Anthony, as he likely would do again when Anthony was snuffed.


Norman’s snuff did not slow down the party.  The sound of a bull’s roar that signaled fresh naked flesh being fatally burned was fairly constant, as was the sound of whips tearing into vulnerable skin.  The screams were intermittent, occurring as slaves were ripped apart on the racks, cut in half by the pendulum, stabbed by the spikes under the wheels, or just cut into pieces by guests free forming their tortures.  It was a joyous time for everyone.


But now it was time for dinner, and the guests gathered together to enjoy live meat being carved for their nourishment and further entertainment.  As the Chief observed that they were mostly done with their meals, he again stood to address the group.


“This is a great party, and I thank you all for joining us.  And it is a great party in part because it is such a great occasion, honoring our beloved leader.


“I have thought long and hard about what kind of present I might present to William, and I think I have found the ideal gift.  As you know, I have developed methods to convert any male into a completely obedient slave, grateful for whatever its master does to it. We have all enjoyed snuffing lots of those this afternoon and evening, and we will continue to do so well into the night.  However, on rare occasion there is a male that is already aware of its purpose, anxious to serve and grateful for the pain and humiliation it knows it deserves.  These slaves know they are otherwise  utterly worthless and have no purpose other than to serve, suffer, and die.  They are especially satisfying, but hard to find.


“I have come upon one of these, and it is my pleasure to present it as your birthday present.”  At this point the slave formerly named Stevie walked into the room, its excitement demonstrated by its erect cock and the look of anticipation on its face.  It stopped in front of Alpha 1 and knelt, continuing into a full kowtow.   Its young body was resplendent in its sexual prime, ready for whatever use the Alpha 1 chose to make of it.  It was overwhelmed by the honor of being owned and used by one so important, and utterly embraced that opportunity.  The Chief had not had to use any of his techniques and the slave had embraced its fate as soon as that fate was explained to it.  William smiled broadly as the Chief continued.


“Obviously, this slave no longer has use for a name, and I am aware that you recently snuffed your most recent acquisition, snuffslave 549.  So we have heated up the branding iron so you can accept this gift as snuffslave 550, reflecting its status as a snuffslave designated for special use, not just a routine animal to be disposed of casually like those we’re snuffing here tonight.  And it has one other characteristic that is exceptionally hard to find in a slave of this type and this stage of sexual development.  It has never been butt-fucked.  It has a virgin ass for you to ravage as you wish.”


William was ecstatic.  This was indeed the perfect gift.   A truly willing slave that embraced its purpose and fate.  He ordered the slave to stand, which it did.  William reviewed and stroked the smooth young skin, observing the obvious strength and development of its muscles, thinking how wonderfully they would take the pain he would inflict.  He observed the hard cock that pointed upwards form the strength of its sexual excitement, and the balls that he would someday enjoy removing and consuming after he finished torturing them.  But not too soon, as slaves like this were indeed rare and their destruction should be as slow and careful as it was painful and humiliating.  As the slave stood obediently in front of its new master, head bowed, William reached over to the handle of the branding iron that had been placed near him.  As the Chief held the slave in place, not for fear of resistance but to prevent involuntary movements that might blur the brand, William enjoyed the smell of the searing meat as the red-hot iron burned into the young chest, making clear William’s ownership.  The slave did not scream, or make any movement beyond further bowing its head in obedience.  It had not been necessary for the Chief to have held it in place.  William sensed it wanted to speak but knew it was not permitted to do so without permission, a further sign of its natural instincts.  Curiosity caused him to grant it permission to speak.


“Thank you, master.  From now on I exist to bring you pleasure through my pain, humiliation and destruction as you wish.  I am grateful for you accepting me for whatever use you make of me.”  William signaled for the slave to bend over, and as the guests clapped and cheered he savagely raped the young slave, ending its virginity and introducing it to the first part of the agony and public use that lay ahead.


“This is the perfect gift, and I am delighted,” William told his host.  “But it does present a dilemma.   I am quite tempted to use it up in due course by ripping it apart as part of its torture and death.  That would be great fun.  But I also have decided to add a new feature to my statue garden.  It is already a place of great beauty, with the perfectly preserved bodies of slaves displayed for my pleasure and that of my guests.  There are slaves hanging from the trees, their heads dangling at odd angles reflecting their broken necks and their cocks preserved with the erections they sported as they died.  There are exhibits showing deceased AMS members who time to die had arrived, whipping or otherwise torturing slaves as they had in life.  And there are lots of slaves positioned over fuck benches with their assholes preserved so that they are still very appealing fuck targets.  I spend a lot of time there, contemplating how wonderfully ordered the world is, with slaves performing the functions they exist to perform.  But I realized recently that I should have a fountain of some sort, and the other possible use of this exceptional specimen would be to have it impaled with its arms outstretched in a joyous pose as its cock spews a constant flow of cum over a bed of bright flowers.  I think that would be a beautiful sight and this snuffslave could fill the role.  I’ll take my time and torture it for quite some time before deciding, of course, but I think I’ll avoid scarring it in case I conclude it’s the right object for my garden.”  And with that, William used a cattle prod to introduce the snuffslave to the pain of electric shock as he proceeded to rape it again.  The Chief looked on and smiled, now also fucking a nearby twink as he slowly cut off its cock and balls.


The gift, and the party, was a total success.


Spokoynoy Nochi, Soldier Boy by


Alfonso risked a glance over his shoulder to where he knew Ivan was waiting, hidden back at the base of the trees. His comrade’s camouflage was excellent – even though Alfonso knew exactly where to look, he could see no trace of Ivan. Perfect – stealth was essential for their mission. This deep behind enemy lines there was no chance of rescue if things went wrong.

There was no warning at all. One moment Alfonso was belly-crawling another few inches forward, the next he felt the muzzle of a rifle pressing into the back of his neck. The sun-warmed metal quickly grew uncomfortably hot against his skin, but he didn’t dare move. The owner of the rifle barked something at him in Russian, thick consonants sounding like they were being torn from his throat. Alfonso took a guess at what the harsh noises might mean and opened his hands, moving them slowly out to each side of his head. “Nye govoryu po-russki”, he replied, forcing his mouth to shape the ugly syllables of the invaders’ language in one of the few phrases he had memorized.

Booted feet appeared either side of him and his hands were roughly yanked behind his back. Cuffs were applied to ensure they would stay there. Alfonso was lifted to his feet and force-marched the rest of the way across the field, covering in two minutes the same distance that had taken him two hours to crawl earlier that morning.

Entering one of the tents, he was brutally hurled to the floor in front of a small man in a perfectly-pressed uniform. There was more Russian gabble, and then, finally, words Alfonso could understand.

“My men want to execute you right away, you know,” the neatly-dressed man said calmly, without a trace of an accent. “Such rash young things. How fortunate for you that I am the one in charge here and I have decided that you should live a little longer.”

“Now,” the well-dressed man said, kneeling down to stare into Alfonso’s brown eyes with his icy blue ones, “my men inform me that they found two sets of footprints in the woods, but only one footprint-maker. Logic suggests that you have a companion who is still roaming around out there, getting into who knows what trouble. Why don’t you help us save him from making an embarrassing mistake by telling us where we might find him?”

Alfonso stared at him for a moment or so, then quickly, striking like a cobra, spat in the man’s face. The commander backed away, never losing his calm expression, and fished a cloth from his pocket to dab at his face.

One of Vladimir’s two men stepped forward, aiming a booted foot toward Alfonso’s mouth, but Vladimir stopped him with a movement of his hand. He kept quiet for a few moments, continuing to stare into Alfonso’s eyes as he wiped the saliva off his cheek. Then, standing slowly, still moving with calm deliberation, he smiled. He spoke a few words in Russian and the two men disappeared. They returned a minute or so later, carrying a human-sized wooden cross. The sight of the cross made Alfonso’s heard pound in his chest. The men lifted Alfonso, removed the cuffs, and tied him to the frame, stretching his arms so much he thought his shoulders were going to pop apart. Then they left the room.

The boss-man approached and once more stared into Alfonso’s eyes. Slowly, methodically, he took hold of Alfonso’s shirt and tore it in half right down the centerline of the chest, ripping a few inches at a time. “Now, soldier,” he said, fitting the words into the spaces between pulls on the fabric, “my name is Vladimir, and I am looking forward to learning your name, along

with whatever other information you decide to tell me over the course of our conversation.” The shirt was now torn completely in half, the two parts dangling limply beside Alfonso’s ribs. “Do you know what I like about men like you?” he purred, placing his hand on Alfonso’s smooth chest. Alfonso could feel his heart beating like a drum beneath the man’s palm. “You’ve clearly got a tough body. It will be able to take more than most men. Which means… more fun for me.”

Alfonso looked down at his now slightly-sweaty chest and at Vladimir’s hand resting aggressively, intrusively on it, certain that Vladimir could actually hear the frantic beating of his heart, not merely feel it beneath his fingers. The commander dropped his hand and turned away. He walked back to a desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a large number of very long, thick needles. Alfonso swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat.

“Now,” Vladimir said, turning back toward Alfonso’s pinned, helpless body, “this is where the fun begins. For me.” He drew out one of the needles. Calling the implement a “needle” was an understatement, like calling a hawk a “bird” or calling a fighter jet a “plane” – the word did not do the object justice. It was approximately as long as his hand and perhaps half as thick as a pencil. He watched Alfonso’s eyes as the needle emerged to glint in the light – a slight widening, but not a panic reaction. Good to know, although Vladimir could have worked as easily with panic.

Vladimir gazed at the needle in his hand for a bit, then reached out to caress his victim’s side with his other hand, running it from the moderate dusting of chest fur at the front to the smoother parts beneath the armpit. “Why don’t we start with you telling me your name, hmm? I’d like to keep this as civilized as possible, and it seems tactless to keep thinking of you as ‘Victim Number Seventeen’. So dehumanizing. What should I call you instead?”

After a few seconds of silence, Vladimir reached forward with the needle and placed it against his captive’s skin, angling it forward from just behind the side of the pectoral muscle. He pressed and the finely-honed point dug a dimple into the flesh, depressing it briefly until the skin parted with a faint popping sound and the tip slid underneath. Vladimir kept pressing, smoothly applying pressure until the needle began to emerge just under and to the outside of the taut nipple. A tiny mountain raised itself up until finally the second layer of skin parted like the first, though with a much louder “pop”, and the tip of the needle emerged followed by a thin trail of dark red blood.

Alfonso’s breathing was rough and ragged and tiny moans emerged from his mouth as the needle made its transit. Without pausing for a break, Vladimir withdrew a second needle and placed it on the other side as a mirror image of the first.

“I have approximately five hundred of these,” he said casually. “That’s a total of about two and a half kilograms of metal. I can find places for every single one of them over the next few hours. I hope that will inspire you to take a greater role in our conversation than you have done so far, but if it doesn’t, then I’m sure I’ll be able to think of other alternatives afterward.”

“Well, don’t tell me your name if you don’t want, I don’t mind it at all to be honest. Actually, I already know some interesting things about you. Do you want to know?”. Vladimir got closer to Alfonso and whispered to him “I know where you’re from, according to the badge on your uniform. And here is the curious thing, I’m a soldier too, you know? Actually, I am one of the people who specializes in making stubborn enemy soldiers like you talk. It can be a difficult job, but I find it has certain… compensations”

The nineteenth and twentieth needles went through the meat of Alfonso’s thighs, causing the legs to tremble and quiver. Vladimir opened the next box of needles, but when he started to place the next… what was this? The very first two needles he had inserted were no longer oozing blood. How curious – usually the slow drips continued a while longer, but the entry and exit points were already scabbed over. He looked at the others, and found that all forty holes – even the four he had just created – did not look like fresh injuries. The oldest looked like they had been healing for a few days, the newest for a few hours. And yet it had only been minutes. Curious indeed.

He decided to experiment. The next needle went in through Alfonso’s side from front to back, drilling through the muscles of the belly but avoiding any vital organs. The next went in parallel to it and slightly higher, and gradually he built a ladder up his writhing victim’s side, setting needles into a parallel line running from the top of his pelvis to his lowermost rib. Sure enough, by the time he had finished placing the top rung of the ladder, the first one had stopped bleeding.

“You are a fascinating young man, it seems,” he said, looking into his victim’s face. “Were you aware, I wonder, that your body heals itself from wounds much more quickly than other men? Ah, I see you knew that already. I suspect your army knows it too. I wonder… could they be responsible for it? Hmm. Well, this adds an interesting wrinkle to what was already a very enjoyable job.”

Alfonso`s heart skipped a beat. Vladimir continued to drive spikes through the bound man’s skin and muscles, eliciting sharp intakes of breath and a few whimpering moans. By the time he had emptied the fifth box – 100 needles – Alfonso was trying – and occasionally failing – to hold himself unnaturally still because any movement set the needles to dancing uncomfortably in his flesh. “Now,” Vladimir said, “I don’t usually remove any of the ornaments until the end of the session, but this intriguing ability of yours is too fascinating. I need to experiment a bit.” He withdrew the first spike he had inserted and inspected the resulting hole. “Fascinating indeed,” he murmured. “Do you realize this has very nearly healed over? Your little cells have been working overtime, haven’t they? Building new skin, sealing off the injured area… in any other man, this would have taken months, but your body managed it in under an hour. And now as a result, you have a nearly-fully-healed body piercing. How remarkable. A shame I don’t have a ring or barbell of suitable size to insert in the hole… ah, wait, here is something.” He picked up a piece of rough twine from the floor. Using a small piece of clear tape, he attached one end of the twine to the thick end of the needle, then slowly pushed the needle back into the hole it had created. This time he kept pushing until the needle went all the way through and out the other side, drawing the twine after it. When the needle had fully emerged, he removed the tape and was left with a length of twine embedded in his victim’s body. He sawed the twine back and forth a few times, generating a raspy noise that grated on his ears. “Ah. Such an interesting sensation this must be for you. I can only imagine.”

“Wow, you are a tough one. I didn’t think you’d hold out this long”. Vladimir stated, standing back and looking at his work. He smiled at the panting form in front of him. Alfonso´s torso was now full of needles and drenched with sweat, his chest heaving uncontrollably. “We’ve been at this for nearly eight hours. I didn’t expect you to last for half that time, and I do, unfortunately, have other responsibilities that I must attend to. And so, alas, our time together must come to an end.” Said that, Vladimir left the tent.

Hardly being able to keep composed due to the pain inside him, Alfonso realized that at that rate, his torturer would eventually discover the secret behind his body. The truth was, waiting in the side of his neck (and causing an almost unnoticeable shimmer) there were billions of nanorobots which started flowing throught his blood the moment he got injured, healing almost every wound he could get in a short time. He wasn’t immortal, he could die as well, but the nanorobots made it less likely. Not everyone could be like him. The army injected the nanomachines into every recruit it got. In 90 cases out of 100, the enhancement didn’t work and the machines were flushed harmlessly out of the recruit’s body. But in those 10% of people that the machines were compatible with, they established a symbiotic relationship with their host, granting him increased resistance to pain, rapid healing from injury, and immunity to every disease and infection. Indeed, Ivan was one of those people, a normal soldier. Alfonso felt glad thinking that it was going to be him and not his mate who had to face whatever Vladimir had planned for him. He had no idea at all how much he was going to regret it, how sadistic Vladimir would get.

Taking advantage of this short moment of peace, Alfonso thought of his pregnant beloved, the moment they say goodbye and he promised to her he would marry her after that war finished. That happened a year and a half ago. “Could it have been a girl? A boy?”

Few minutes after, he heard the door opening and Alfonso looked to Vladimir, who was carrying a long dagger. Vladimir gave him another of his evil smiles as he noticed his beloved prisoner realizing what were about to happen.

Alfonso’s heart continued to pound erratically as Vladimir approached him, the dagger extended. He place the icy cold tip against Alfonso’s heaving chest, right over his hard-pumping heart muscle. Vladimir looked into Alfonso’s eyes, and shoved the blade deep into his hairy chest, careful not to puncture the heart. Alfonso’s eyes widened and he let out a gasp of pain as the man withdrew the blade and shoved his hand in the hole, right between his muscular tits. His face contorted into a grimace when Vladimir’s hand found the target, gave it a light squeeze, and pulled it from the mighty chest slowly. During the ripping procces, he witnessed with delightment the veins and arteries that were broken being repaired instantly. The torturer stood in front of the tortured, holding the pounding muscle in his blood-covered hand. Vladimir felt the pump kicking hard in his hand, the various veins and arteries connecting itself to Alfonso still attached.

Vladimir took one more needle.

Alfonso’s eyes opened in horror, realizing what was about to happen.

Vladimir smiled as he began to press the needle into Alfonso’s heart until the tough outer membrane broke. Alfonso gasped several times as the man grabbed another needle and pressed it in just as slow in another area of his pumping heart. Alfonso jerked his head back in agony as the needle was lodged into his heaving muscle. Vladimir carried on until 5 needles found themselves invading Alfonso’s heart, making him have no longer the strength to scream Alfonso had never felt such pain, nor had he ever been aware of his heart as a separate muscle until this moment as the needles sat there, prodding painfully into it.

“Look down,” Vladimir commanded. Despite all the agony, Alfonso did. Vladimir was holding what appeared to be a stick in front of his hips. As Alfonso’s eyes focused better, he realized the stick was actually his torturer’s erect cock.

You’re…a sick-…son of a…” Alfonso forced his words out without any air to support them so they failed him.

“And you’re a dead man.” Vladimir hissed, enjoying Alfonso’s lack of fight. Still with Alfonso’s quivering heart in one hand, he licked the bloody edge of the blade before thrusting it into Alfonso’s sternum.

Alfonso let out a pained grunt as his already air-deprived lungs felt like they were constricted. He gasped for air and let out a raspy cry as the blade was pulled out, he felt like it took half of his remaining life out with it.

While he was dying, his life slowly fading away through all the holes in his body, Alfonso thought once again of his beloved, lamenting that he had not been able to fulfill his promise to marry her and see the fruit of their love grow. In spite of all the pain, Alfonso managed to outline a weak smile, thinking that at least the image of her would be his last thought before dy….

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt his chin being elevated and his bloody lips being kissed slowly and carefully. He managed to lift his heavy eyelids and saw his torturer licking the blood from his lips and kissing them. The image disgusted him and closed his mouth tightly, but his punisher moved the fine needles that pierced his heart, which made Alfonso groan in pain, allowing his punisher to invade his mouth with his tongue. “At least it won’t last long,” thought Alfonso, surrendering and closing his eyes to at least not have to face such repulsive vision.

A few seconds later, Vladimir stopped kissing him and moved away from the cross where Alfonso was spending the last agonizing moments of his life. Alfonso took advantage of that momentary peace to recall the image of his beloved again before dying. He had barely managed it when suddenly he felt a hand resting on his aching right shoulder and then his abdomen was stabbed by something serrated in one of the few areas that were not invaded by needles with such fury that the little air left in his lungs escaped. The brutal pain disintegrated the image of his beloved from his mind and left him in shock. Too weak to reopen his eyes, and unable to react, Alfonso could only feel the razor being pulled out of his abdomen with the same fury with which it was embedded, taking small pieces of intestine with it, to be nailed back to it. Vladimir kept plunging the dagger again and again, making Alfonso only being able to focus in the pain, until his dying heart could no longer bear it and the darkness took him away.

Family Pride by Gay Slavemeat


I have written a lot of fantasy gay snuff stories, usually with the victim being a willing slave that embraces its fate, since that’s my personal fantasy and what I think I deserve. Sometimes readers request a particular approach or plot.  I like to do that and those have been well received.  I was recently contacted by a fellow slave, who says his name is Bill, and who has shared the events that led him not only to become a willing sex slave but to want to be snuffed.  I think his story may well be mostly true, although of course on the internet one never knows for sure.  In real life I do not approve of anyone getting hurt involuntarily, let alone snuffed.  Human life is precious and should be preserved and nurtured, although for those of us who are masochists I have no problem with willingly being tortured, used sexually, and humiliated naked in public – so long as there is not permanent damage.  I get off big time on that sort of thing with me on the receiving end.  The thought of me being snuffed fills a strong need, and the fantasy keeps me away from seeking the real thing.


Bill appears to have reacted to initial involuntary abuse by embracing it totally and wanting more.  I find his story a major turn-on.  He asked me to write it and also to write how it might end.  That is what follows.  The past events and his current state of willing slavery are from what he claims to be real, as are some of the first names such as his original pimp, brothers and high school friends.  But to protect his identity somewhat I’ve used some fake names, like the bar name, which I took from the now-closed Mack’s in San Francisco.  (That was the best S&M club I ever attended, and he did not tell me the name of the Boston S&M club where he’s kept.)  I also included a much younger version of myself as a bit player in the events to advance the plot, as does the setting around a real estate deal.


So, here’s his story with one possibility on how it might end, an ending Bill says he would like to have happen.



Burlington, Vermont



“I love living in Vermont and it’s amazingly pretty in the winter, but this year is ridiculously cold,” said Mr. Thompson.  He had just finished Thanksgiving dinner, surrounded by his entire family, and the tryptophan in the fresh turkey (along with some excellent red wine) was starting to make him sleepy.  It had been a great day, with lots of turkey, football, family, and wine and beer.  He had been joined by his three sons and their families, and everyone was in a great mood.  He was incredibly close to his boys, and proud of them.


“You are right dad,” agreed Mark, who at 30 was the eldest of the three.  “And Kevin, Danny, and I think we all deserve a break from the cold.  We also think it would be great to have some quality family time with just you and the three of us.  We haven’t done that for a long time – a guys’ trip to someplace nice and warm where we can relax.  After all, you’re about to turn 55 and retire, and the three of us can afford to take some time off after the real estate deal we just closed.  We have a lot to celebrate and everything to be proud of.  We think this would be a nice Christmas present for you.  We planned for a trip to the Bahamas for the four of us, and when we mentioned it to Mr. Jordon he said he’d like to host us all, along with Tommy and Ryan, at his personal resort.  He’s really pleased with how the real estate deal turned out for everyone, and said he knows we’ll all make a lot of money when the property is developed.  He also thought Tommy did a great job as our lawyer and Ryan as our accountant, so he wanted to include them.  We’ve all bonded during the deal on a personal level and discovered we have a lot of values in common.  So now we can even do the trip pretty much for free.  How’s that sound?  I thought I’d bring it up before you fall asleep.”


Mr. Thompson was surprised and thrilled.  While he winced a bit about being proud of everything, he certainly was proud of the three amazing sons he had shared his holiday with.  They had worked together on a hugely successful deal with a very rich and prominent real estate baron, and he knew their new partner could easily afford the trip.  So he eagerly accepted the offer and they quickly delved into the timing and details.  It made the day even more special and Mr. Thompson drifted off to a well-deserved nap on the couch in due course.  As he did so, Danny, the youngest of the three, looked lovingly at him and commented to his siblings: “We really do need to use this trip to make sure he can be proud of everything.”  His brothers agreed.


Boston, Massachusetts

Mack’s S&M Gay Sex Club


Dennis and Paul were engaged in a friendly and animated conversation as they enjoyed some beers and watched the action at Paul’s club.  Paul owned the intense underground gay S&M club, which was nicely full that evening even though it was a weekday.  There were about 40 guys, a majority in leather garb that highlighted their macho alpha male status and bodies.  There were also slaves, who were mostly naked or nearly naked, as befit their inferior, subservient status, making their bodies readily available for inspection and use by their alpha owners.  The bartender was busy serving drinks and most of the group had just enjoyed the buffet that was part of Mack’s tradition.  The patrons were also enjoying the bar’s house slave, who was totally naked and busy sucking cocks.  The alphas even made him suck the cocks of other slaves, so he’d be reminded he was not even worth being taken into their households as a personal slave.  He was just a fuck toy at a S&M bar, of no more value than the bar stools or the backroom sling.  However, he was handy for the guys who needed to get rid of some beer, as he also functioned as a mobile human urinal.  Patrons wouldn’t have to leave their seats and could just piss down his throat or up his ass.  He had once been named Bill, but mostly answered to “fag pig” since that was branded on his lower belly just above his exposed (and currently erect) cock.  Guys also followed the instructions branded on his naked butt, which invited them to “fuck the faggot.”  He was popular since everyone was welcome to fuck him or piss into him (throat or ass), and there weren’t any limits on whipping, fisting, or beatings so long as Paul said it was OK.  Paul always approved so long as he got to watch, or to participate if it was an especially fun and humiliating idea.  Paul was solicitous of his customers and used all his property to satisfy them, including his sex slave, the fag pig fka Bill.  And the fag pig knew what it was and always cooperated and accepted whatever use was made of it, thanking the alphas who used it for doing so.  The fag pig was content and grateful, as it should be.


Dennis handed Paul a flier he had brought, with the comment “I assume this is yours, and refers to your fag pig?”  The flier read:



Snuff-ready subhuman live meat slave

Vitals:  25-year old Caucasian male slave, 6’1”, 170 lbs.  Brown hair and eyes, moderately good looking and in generally good physical condition.  Cock 7.25” and functional.  Body fat kept at 15%, to assure flavorful meat that is still very lean.


Training:  Well trained to suck cock, drink cum and piss, and eat shit.  Current tasks are janitorial, focusing on cleaning urinals and toilets, including doing so by licking clean the urinals and toilet bowls with its tongue, to enhance its training and humiliation and for entertainment of club patrons.  Responds well to being butt-fucked, whipped, and beaten, and especially to dildos and fisting.  Totally submissive and obedient.


Reason for sale:  Slave is showing deterioration in skin smoothness because of being whipped and beaten repeatedly, along with some burn marks, and slave’s asshole is damaged and overly loose as a result of large dildos, being double-fucked, and consistent fisting.  Efforts at repair were not sufficiently successful to meet club standards for fuck-toy slaves.  The current owner of the slave plans to have his premises painted and will use the proceeds of the sale to pay for that.  Slave understands and acknowledges its life is far less important than patrons enjoying a freshly painted setting, and will cooperate with whatever torture, snuff, and cannibalism scenes the purchaser determines.


Inquire to Paul at Mack’s S&M Club, Boston, Mass.



Paul laughed as he read the flier.  “Of course it is.  As you well know since you’re the one who sold me the pathetic piece of fag shit in the first place.”


“yeah, but you sure didn’t pay much for it.  And I think you’ve made good money as a result of how utterly depraved Bill is.  Not setting any limits for patrons when they use him has obviously paid off.  Plus having nice clean toilets.  But I hope you don’t think you’re going to get much for him.  About all he’s good for is getting snuffed.  I just fucked his ass and you could park a semi in there.”


Paul laughed again.  “True enough.  I’ve distributed the flier discretely and have had some promising inquiries.  Given the fact he’s relatively young, his cock still works, and he’s got the right attitude about being a shit-eating subhuman who deserves to be snuffed, I think I can get enough to pay for the paint job and a few new amenities.  And there are other slaves out there that I can train to replace him.  But I don’t have any delusions about his value.  So, do you want to buy him back?  And do you think you have a replacement for him I could get cheap?  I know you’re in the business of pimping and selling young males.”


Before answering, Dennis paused and watched as Bill held up a very large glass to his lips.  He had masturbated into it and then added the cum form used condoms of guys who’d fucked him.  Other patrons filled it up with piss and spit.  One alpha wiped his own ass with some toilet paper and added that to the mixture.  Bill thanked them all and slowly drank the entire cum/piss/spit/shit-stained toilet paper contents.  When he finished several other patrons dragged him over to the nearby sling for further amusement.


“Both,” answered Dennis.


Burlington, Vermont

8 years ago


Bill, Ryan, and Tommy were great friends, each dealing with the stress of high school and the accelerating onset of puberty as they had all turned 17 and hit their sexual prime.  For Tommy and Ryan, the opposite sex was now somehow mysterious and made them insecure and shy.  But Bill had a different reaction.  What got him going was the same sex –  other guys.  He realized he was gay, but he was amazingly ignorant about any aspect of being gay since it wasn’t ever discussed at home, and Bill figured it was no big deal.  But when he told Tommy and Ryan he learned he was completely wrong.  It was a huge deal.


“You’re a fag?” Tommy asked in horrified shock.  “Fags aren’t human, they’re subhuman.  You’re a thing, nor a person.”


“And you are no longer our friend,” added Ryan.  “We want nothing to do with you.”  Bill was horrified and embarrassed and begged them to reconsider.  He wanted to continue to hang out with his friends.  He told them he’d do anything to be able to continue to do so.


“Maybe we’ll give you a choice,” Tommy responded.  “We will either completely ignore you, or if you obey us we will allow you to be around us from time to time as a sex toy for us to use. Instead of us just herking off we could fuck your puny little ass.  That’s what straight guys do to fags like you.  But you would have to do whatever we say, no matter what.”


Bill was totally devastated.  He had thought these were his best friends and their reaction put him into shock and depression.  But he couldn’t stand not being around them at all, so he agreed to their terms.  “Like I said, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.  You can use me sexually as a fag if you want.   Just let me be with you at least part of the time.  And don’t tell anyone.”


“OK, let’s see if you really mean it.  Take off all your clothes and get on your knees.”  As Bill did so, Tommy unzipped his pants and took out his cock, which he proceeded to stroke until it got hard.  Then he shoved it into Bill’s mouth and told him to suck it, which Bill did.  And Bill liked doing so.  When Tommy shot his load, Bill also discovered he liked swallowing the cum.  Tommy told him he needed to be thanked for using Bill, and as Bill did so Ryan took his turn and also shot a load down Bill’s throat.   This soon became a pattern, with the two “friends” taking turns getting blow jobs from Bill.  Since Bill liked being naked in front of his former friends and loved giving them blow jobs and drinking their cum, Bill looked forward to the ritual. And they had promised to keep his status a secret.


But blow jobs soon weren’t enough for Tommy and Ryan, and after a few weeks of blow jobs they decided they wanted more.  They told Bill to bend over, naked, and then Tommy once again took the first turn, this time fucking Bill’s tight, virgin ass.  Bill wasn’t prepared for the pain, and his asshole bled as Tommy reached his climax.  It bled again when Ryan took his turn, but there was no sympathy.  They told Bill this is what fags deserved and he better get used to it.  This was all he was good for, and they laughed as he nearly broke into tears form the combination of pain and humiliation.  However, he not only didn’t resist, he begged for more.  Bill learned that day, and confirmed over the following weeks and years, that he liked being butt-fucked even more than he liked sucking cock.  And he accepted that this was indeed all he was good for.


What surprised and frustrated Tommy and Ryan was that being faced got Bill hard, and he clearly enjoyed it.  So, after a month or so of regular use of Bill’s butt and mouth for fucking, Tommy went a step further.  This time Tommy told Bill to get naked and lie on his back in the bathroom.  He again dropped his pans, but this time it wasn’t his cock that went into Bill.  He lowered his own butt onto Bill’s face and farted, laughing at Bill as he did so.  Then he took a dump.  The load of shit went into Bill’s mouth, and Bill obediently swallowed it.  Then it was Ryan’s turn, with both boys laughing at Bill as they told him to wash his mouth out, so he could function as toilet paper and clean their asses.  They told him to describe how wonderful their shit tasted, and to thank them for their “gifts.”  Bill did exactly as he was instructed.  Tommy and Ryan had found the ultimate humiliation, and their sessions with Bill now included not just using him as a cum depository, but also for their piss and their shit.  Bill was too embarrassed and ashamed to admit to them that he had soon come to want this too – he was turned on by being used and degraded, no matter how badly.  It frustrated Tommy and Ryan that even this depravity turned him on, and they slapped him around and beat him up to show their displeasure.  But they also kept using him as the fag they always reminded him he was.


Tommy had a further idea on how to humiliate Bill, which worked well and sealed Bill’s role as a worthless fag.  When he and Ryan were each fucking him, one in his ass and one in his mouth, Tommy arranged for Bill’s brother Danny to walk in and “discover” him serving two alpha males.  Danny was a year younger, and he was the brother Bill was closest too.  Bill and Danny shared a bedroom, and Bill secretly was massively turned on by Danny’s amazing, masculine body, which Bill often got to enjoy seeing naked.  Tommy had obviously already told Danny Bill was a fag, but Danny feigned shock and reacted just as Tommy and Ryan had done.  He told Bill he was subhuman and could not be his friend or brother any more.  Danny gave him the same choice as had Ryan and Tommy, and Bill was soon being used by Danny just like he was by Tommy and Ryan.  It was easier for Danny given the shared bedroom, so the use was more frequent.  Their nearby bathroom also made it easy for Danny to make shitting into Bill’s mouth a regular source of his entertainment.


Danny, despite promising not to do so as had Tommy and Ryan, soon arranged for the two other brothers, Nark and Kevin, to walk in on a fuck session and join in the condemnation.  In fact, the five straight boys began to compare notes on ways to better humiliate the fag.  Bill’s brothers added an evaluation, with the meanness that often happens with family members.


“You aren’t ever going to have a decent life.  You’re totally worthless even to other fags, and no guy is ever going to kiss you or hold you.  All you’re fit to do is be a whore, which is what you’ll become someday.  With a little luck, maybe you’ll get AIDS and die soon.  We hope you do that.”  The five alpha males enjoyed a contest to come up with the best way for Bill to die.  They made it quite clear that is what they wanted to happen to him, as soon as possible.  And when their father found out, he piled on to that same sentiment and told Bill he was no longer a son and would need to leave the house once he finished (or dropped out of) high school.


Once he was “out” high school was miserable for Bill.  He did find some solace playing baseball., being a good center fielder and a decent hitter, and he enjoyed the game a lot.  It was his only positive activity, and he spent his time mostly on baseball, some attention to schoolwork, and being used by his brothers and his former friends.  But being used was his favorite activity – he liked being a sex object, and he even liked being a human toilet.  Being a fuck-hole and a toilet was his only purpose.  Well, maybe not entirely his only purpose, as he’d also learned that his role included doing tasks for the alphas.  He performed the chores his brothers had been assigned, and even did some of the work for their part-time jobs.  Bill learned (and accepted) that he was a slave, serving his betters (which was most everyone) in however they wanted to make use of him.


In due course Bill did manage to graduate form high school and even entered college at the University of Vermont, studying prelaw.  As he entered college his father confirmed he was no longer welcome in his home and he no longer considered him a son.  His father was totally ashamed to ever have had contact with him.  Bill was not to show up, even for family events and holidays.  Making things worse, Danny made sure word got out at college that he was gay, and things started to deteriorate in the dorm and in classes too.  He was shunned and found himself unable to study, finally dropping out early in his second year.  He got a job for a while, but after about six months even that didn’t work out.  Bill was broke, despondent, and desperate.  As his brothers had predicted, there was only one option.  Bill became a street prostitute.


Bill was able to make enough to live on, sort of, as a whore.  The reason was that he was very “flexible” in terms of what he’d do, and word of that got around.   One guy, named Dennis, even let him stay the night in return for some rough treatment.  Then Dennis invited some of his friends over and they all shared Bill, introducing him to the world of S&M as well as using him for butt-fucking, piss, and shit.  Dennis had become his pimp and added to his training.  When Bill had asked if there was someone who would be willing to allow him to have a place to live in return for sex, it was Dennis who took Bill to Boston and introduced him to the fantastic world that was Mack’s.  Paul had accepted Bill, even paying Dennis a small fee, and initially letting him whore himself to patrons.  But soon Paul just kept Bill as a naked sex slave and allowed the patrons to do as they wished with him for free.  Bill did janitorial work, focusing especially on cleaning the toilets, and had access to a small storeroom in the back to live in, with a mattress and a few chairs.  He was allowed to shower and to eat leftovers form the club’s buffet (usually from a dog dish).  It was great for Paul’s business, and Bill very quickly realized this was the “life” he both wanted and deserved.


There were occasional events that stood out, such as a few times when he was allowed to visit his brothers.  One had sent a card asking if he had contracted AIDS yet, saying he hoped this had happened because it would be better if he died like they said he should.  All three brothers made it clear they would prefer him dead but wouldn’t pay a cent for his funeral if he had one.  When they allowed him to visit them on a couple of occasions, it was in the garage of his eldest brother, Mark.  They said they’d pay him a little money in return for once again fucking him and shitting in his mouth, but after Mark started the fun by administering a combo of cum, piss, and shit into Bill, they informed Bijl he’d have to pay them for the privilege of eating their shit.  So, Bill took what money he had and paid it to the three alpha males, getting the waste from his other two brothers, Kevin and Danny, as they also fucked him and then pissed and shat into his mouth.  He returned to Boston broke and even more humiliated, much to the satisfaction of his three brothers.  But he also returned more turned on than ever by their fantastic alpha bodies, especially Danny’s.  His father refused to see him at all, being completely ashamed of him and no longer considering him as a son, as he had made clear years before.


Other occasions related to his life as a slave.  To entertain the patrons Paul had had him branded on two occasions, once with “Fuck the Faggot” on his butt, and once with “Fag Pig” on his belly just above his cock.  Bill clearly understood how appropriate each of these were, and asked Paul to brand him with the term “sex slave” on the forehead so it would always be visible even on the rare occasions when Bill wasn’t naked.  But Paul said no since he did not want to risk damaging his property.  On another memorable occasion Bill was the target of a whipping contest at the club, with 7 guys participating and taking turns, then deciding they’d all whip him at the same time.  Bill was in the emergency room for a while after that, and some of the lacerations didn’t heal.  But it was useful as a reminder of his status and use, so over time his young skin became more scarred.


It was the fisting that did the most damage.  Bill really got off on being fisted – it was the perfect combination of pain and humiliation and again it had started with Tommy and Ryan but accelerated with Danny.  The downside was that it extended his asshole, and in time there was even room for two guys to fist him at once.  So, they did, and of course that made it even worse.  In his last visit to his brothers, Danny had gotten into him up to his elbow.  That was an unbelievable turn-on for Bill.


Some of the patrons started to complain to Paul that the bar slave had too loose an ass for a nice tight butt-fuck, and Paul was always highly attentive to his customer’s desires.  So, as Bill turned 25, Paul had decided to sell Bill and find a younger replacement.  After all, he’d owned the slave for nearly two years, and it was now damaged property.


Mack’s Gay S&M Club

Boston, Mass.


Dennis and Paul were once again enjoying drinks and entertainment.  It had been two weeks since Dennis had last been to the bar, and he had made a lot of progress on the terms he’d worked out with Paul for the purchase and replacement of the bar’s live fag meat.  They both had their cocks out and hard, and Bill was kneeling between the two of them servicing Dennis.  Next to him, also kneeling and totally naked, was another slave, somewhat younger, servicing Paul.


“I think you will find the new slave quite acceptable and reasonably well trained.  As you can see it is good looking and has a reasonably good-sized cock, a bit shorter than Bill’s, about 6.75 inches, but thicker.  It’s fresh out of high school, only 19, so you should get 3-4 years of service before it is used up like Bill is, obviously depending on how much it gets fisted and whether you repair the asshole as it deteriorates.  It can produce gobs of cum with impressive frequency and even a bit of distance when it shoots.  If you lie it on its back the cum easily reaches the chest and sometimes even the mouth.  The electricity to the balls all the time has likely affected the quantity and quality of Bill’s cum production these days.  The new slave also gives great blow jobs, as I hope you’re finding out.  Most important, it’s a natural masochist and fully understands that it’s a subhuman piece of slave meat.  There will be no issues on obedience.”


“Well, the slave’s doing a good job so far,” Paul acknowledged, his breathing starting to get a bit heavier as the slave’s tongue aroused his cock.  “And he’s attractive enough, with skin that doesn’t yet show the effects of being whipped and burned.  But what about willingness to do things like drink piss and cum, and eat shit?  Those turned out to be important in getting value out of my current piece-of-shit slave.”


“No issue on the piss and cum.  He seems to crave both, and we can demonstrate that once they finish sucking us off.  But you’ll have to train him to eat shit.  That shouldn’t be hard, given his attitude, and as I said he is totally obedient.  There will be no resistance. He just hasn’t been trained to do so and doesn’t have a natural inclination for it like Bill did.  If you let the guys shit on his food, and he doesn’t get to eat anything that isn’t covered with it, I’m sure he’ll adjust in no time.  And the training will be fun for everyone.  I’ve already talked to him about this and he’s eager to learn.


“Incidentally, you’ll also notice he hasn’t been branded yet.  I suggest you do that in a special ceremony, so you can charge guys extra to attend.  I always thought “fag pig” was a bad choice for Bill, by the way.  It’s insulting to pigs.  I think you should brand this one as what it really is – fag slave meat.  Or a phrase that empathizes its use for cum, piss, and shit eating.  Or a combo.  How about “fag slavemeat toilet?”  I’d do it right in the middle of the chest, so it’s more visible, and then require him to go shirtless even when he’s in public and not naked at the bar.  That would be extremely humiliating.  And maybe “fuck the fag” on its ass, like Bill’s, since that has always gotten a lot of laughs. Of course, that’s all up to you since you’ll own it – just be sure I get to join the fun when you do the branding.  I love watching the red-hot metal burn their skin, and I always cum when I smell it cooking and hear them scream.  Also, the slave has been informed it no longer has a real name since it’s not a person, and it has been trained to answer to slavemeat, which is why I think branding it that would be instructional and inform your patrons.


“Fair points and good ideas,” responded Paul, who was now very much enjoying the blow job and getting a bit distracted as the pleasure increased and the point of orgasm neared.  “I think I might have even consulted with Bill on the name prior to his branding, and that’s obviously a mistake.  Subhuman objects shouldn’t have any say in that – or anything else.  I plan to be much stricter with the replacement.”  As he considered how much fun that was going to be, Paul reached orgasm and shot his load down slavemeat’s throat.  Dennis did the same with Bill.  But they left their cocks in the slaves’ mouths since they would soon want to piss.


Paul changed the optic.  “How did the final negotiations go?  Do we have a deal?”


“They went great.  And your deal is a little better than I thought we could get.  You not only get the money for painting the place, you get this new meat for free.  The buyer is covering my fee as well as your renovation costs.”


“Wow!  That’s wonderful.  How did you pull that off?”  As they talked Paul released his load of piss down the eager throat of his new human urinal.  No need to interrupt the conversation to take a leak.  Dennis did the same with Bill.


“The whole thing is wonderfully fortuitous.  My biggest customer, for whom I procure a whole lot of young male slaves, lives in Burlington and is a really rich real estate developer.  He’s got the kind of money most of us can’t even conceive of and he uses up the slaves very quickly for his amusement.  I’ve joined him for some fantastic snuff scenes followed by great slavemeat meals featuring live meat.  He recently did a deal with some local guys who owned land adjacent to his that, if you put it all together, would make a hugely profitable development.  Things are booming up there, as you know.  He said everyone is going to make a bundle.  The others, I think it was some brothers, were great to deal with and they bonded on a lot of fronts, including their hatred of fags and their views on what should happen to them.  He wanted to give them a present to express his appreciation.  He had gotten to know them and their story very well during all the complex negotiations and realized Bill would be the perfect gift.  I’d had him come down with me that time I visited a few weeks ago and he checked out the merchandise I had available.  He bought a few other slaves too, but the irony is that his interest was only in Bill as the gift.  Even though Bill was obviously not in the best shape, especially for being fucked, he said there was something special about Bill that made him the perfect object to present.  Well, the idea of Bill being special is ludicrous but that gave me a lot of leverage and he hardly even resisted when I told him that would mean he’d have to pay my fee for the new slave as well as cover the cost of you renovating your club.  He also visited the bar and liked it, so getting it refurbished  appealed to him too.  So you get slavemeat for free and you can also upgrade the other furniture and equipment as well as repaint the place.  This is going to be the nicest S&M joint in the country, with new furniture that includes a fresh new slave.”


Paul was beyond delighted.  “And any idea what happens to Bill, not that it matters?  Just curious.”


“None.  But I’m pretty sure he winds up dead, which is what he deserves since he’s damaged and not as useful.  Fuck, he probably even wants to be snuffed, given how pathetic he is.  I just hope it’s painful and prolonged.”  Dennis kicked Bill in the nuts to get his attention and asked.  “Hey fag pig, are you looking forward to being snuffed after you’re sold?  I’m guessing it’s going to be pretty horrible.”  Bill nodded, not even pausing as he continued swallowing Dennis’ piss.  He had been listening and was in fact turned on by the conversation and the prospect of being snuffed.  He totally accepted Dennis and Paul discussing the two slaves as what they were – mere objects.

As both slaves continued to expertly massage the dicks they were servicing, bringing them back to evections after drinking the piss, in due course Dennis and Paul each reached a second orgasm and shot another load of cum down the throat of the slave serving him.


What followed was a wonderful evening, with lots more sex and torture to celebrate the transactions. Dennis had slavemeat demonstrate his lust for cum and piss, drinking the huge ceremonial glass of excrement that Bill often drank to amuse the patrons.  The bar patrons then refilled it and Bill then did the same, starting the mixture by masturbating into the glass.  As he did so Paul announced that Bill was being sold and slavemeat would replace him. Dennis added that this load of cum would be Bill’s last, as his new owner did not think he deserved the pleasure of an orgasm and planned to snuff him fairly soon.  Everyone chimed in on the hope the snuff would be especially prolonged and painful and Dennis assured them it was very likely to last several torture-and0humiliaiton-filled days.  That produced a cheer form the group and a hard-on for Bill.  He knew this was what he deserved.


Dennis attached a cock-cage to Bill to assure he could not cum any more unless his new owner changed his mind.  The patrons then had a particularly savage evening raping and fisting Bill, and then doing the same with slavemeat.  It turned out slavemeat had not yet been fisted, so this was a painful new torture for its education.  There were lots of jokes about Bill’s loose but-hole, and about how that would happen to slavemeat over time.  Paul even started slavemeat’s training at eating shit, telling Bill and slavemeat to crawl to the toilets and drink the mixture of water, piss, and dissolved shit left from a patron who had not flushed.  The stench was more than slavemeat could handle at first, and he threw up.  But that worked out well for training, and slavemeat eventually was able to also consume his own vomit along with a further supply of shit.  Paul was quite satisfied with his new slave and decided to follow Dennis’ ideas on the branding.  Slavemeat would always be naked in the bar and would wear only a thin jockstrap that left all three brands exposed if permitted to go elsewhere.  Paul was determined to assure slavemeat suffered even more humiliation and torture than had Bill.  But he would periodically have a vet repair the asshole so it remained tight enough to please his beloved patrons.


The next morning Bill left with Dennis, naked with no possessions at all and the cock-cage preventing him from giving himself any pleasure.  Bill crawled into a cage that was then locked, to be delivered to his new owner, and slavemeat started its new duties and continued its training.  Paul scheduled the branding for a time that was convenient for Dennis to return and enjoy it.  After all, Dennis had done a first-rate job that satisfied everyone.  He provided a valuable and appreciated service, assuring pathetic fag slaves received the ridicule, pain, and ultimate snuff fate they deserved.


Spanish Cay City, The Bahamas


Mark, Kevin, Danny, and their father got off the plane at the Spanish Cay airport, excited to escape the cold Vermont winter and start their vacation.  They had flown non-stop on Mr. Jordon’s private G-7 jet from Burlington to the luxurious Bahamian resort – the first time any of them had ever been on a private plane.  It had been a great flight, with exceptional food and drinks, and they were more excited than ever at what lay ahead.  Even Mr. Thompson, who did not like flying, enjoyed the trip, although he was very tired when it was over.  As Mr. Jordon had suggested, they were joined on the flight (and the vacation) by high school buddies Tommy and Randy.  They had been friends of the three brothers since then, growing closer over the years, and since Tommy had served as the lawyer for the real estate deal and Ryan as their accountant, being part of the celebration made lots of sense.  Mr. Jordon knew of the friendships and admired how they had bonded in high school, and he wanted to express his appreciation to everyone.  This worked well since Mr. Thompson viewed Tommy and Ryan as if they were his own sons, admiring them for all they’d achieved.  Mr. Jordon met them at the airport with a stretch limo, and when they arrived at the resort they were shown to their rooms – again, a level of luxury none of them had ever experienced before.


It was early evening by then and the group gathered for cocktails and desert, having had an outstanding meal on the flight.  When everyone was seated, Mr. Jordon stood up to greet his guests.


“I want to welcome all of you and thank you for joining me at my resort.  This is a special place where I only invite special friends like yourselves.  It’s not open to the public.  All of you have become friends, and our transaction together has created positive personal relationships that will last for many, many years.  And, now that it’s all closed, you will be able to afford more luxuries and I wanted to introduce you to them.  In fact, I want to partner with you on some other real estate deals very soon.  But we’re not here about that; we’re here to celebrate what we’ve all done already.


“There is another aspect to this event as well that I hope will make the vacation even more special.  I learned from conversations with you that we share a mutual distaste.  We are alpha males disgusted by the faggots who pollute our society and pretend to be human.  We know it is our task to punish them and make them go away, permanently.  I learned that my five younger colleagues became friends in part by sharing that task.  Sadly, and I apologize for bringing up what I know is a sad aspect for Mr. Thompson, it involved what had been a member of the family.  And that sadness has continued since the fag has not disappeared as it should have and as its one-time siblings had ordered it to do.  I have acquired the fag and as part of my gift I have arranged for that to happen on this vacation, so you can all finally be done with it.”


Mr. Jordon signaled a waiter, and in short order two servants carried in a metal cage containing a naked male.  The servants were young with slender twink bodies that were also naked except for slave collars.  Their cocks were erect, and they each had “fag snuff meat” branded on their left buttock.  Mark, David, and Danny had known Mr. Jordon’s plan, but Tommy, Ryan, and Mr. Thompson were stunned and immensely pleased.  The fag was Bill, who was also stunned to realize who had purchased him.


“Like all fags, this one is worthless.  It’s not even fit to serve as meat for our meals, and in any event, we will have my house fags to enjoy for that purpose in due course.  They have been trained to understand their role as targets of alpha males and as meat, and they will join our meals as entrée’ courses.  Their meat is of far higher quality than the fag in the cage.


“But as we discussed plans for this wonderful chance to get together Danny had a great idea on how to make the fag useful for the first time ever, and simultaneously restore the Thompson family pride.  Since it was his idea, as the two fag slaves unload the animal I’ll let him take it from here.  By the way, the fag slaves are among many that I maintain for punishing them until they are ready and eager to be disposed of, having realized their place and purpose.  So feel free to use them as you wish.”


The cage was opened, and Bill was dragged out, then placed on a nearby table on his back.  Danny got up from the table, drink in hand, and went over to a fire pit nearby, grabbing the handle of a red-hot branding iron.  He invited everyone to stand next to the table and with no greeting to the fag other than spitting in his face he administered the brand to its chest, the burning causing a loud, painful, and almost inhuman scream, along with the delightful aroma of burning fag meat.  As they all realized what had been branded onto Bill’s chest in large letters, they all cheered and doubled over with laughter.  They slapped Danny on the back, toasted him with their drinks, and congratulated him on his cleverness.  Bill could not see what had been burned onto him, but knew he was not permitted to ask, or to speak at all unless spoken to.  His two years as a bar sex slave had been good training.  He fully understood and agreed with their assessment of him.  He was indeed worthless fag meat, now realizing he wasn’t even fit for consumption by the alpha males he worshiped.  But they were saying he’d finally be useful, and he hoped that was true.  The fact he’d be dead didn’t bother him at all.  He was secretly thrilled that his brothers and former friends were going to be somehow involved.  He was grateful and hoped they enjoyed themselves during whatever was going to happen to finally snuff him as he disserved.


At that point the vacationers returned to their seats and continued to celebrate, making final plans for the next few days.  Mr. Jordon suggested that they conclude the evening with the alpha males using the fags for their entertainment.  Everyone enthusiastically agreed.  Even though Mr. Thompson declined since he was exhausted from the flight, he encouraged them to do so.  As he left to rest, he did take the time to spit in the face of the fag and tell Bill he was glad Bill’s existence would be ending, and he would not have to be embarrassed by him any longer.  He told Mr. Jordon how much he appreciated this gift, and that he knew this would be the best and most fulfilling vacation he’d ever have.  Mr. Jordon also left, saying he didn’t want to intrude on a family event, but again encouraging them to take full advantage of the amenities he had available for punishing fags, along with the drinks, deserts, and the house fag slaves.  The slaves would obey and there were no limits with what could be done to them either.  Mr. Jordon planned to dispose of them during the week’s fun.  They were well trained, aware and accepting of their purpose and fate, and eager to cooperate.


As the two older alphas excused themselves, the slaves opened a sliding door that revealed an extension of the dining area, which was set up for S&M sex of all types.  As the five young alpha males entered this awesome space, they discussed options as they removed their own clothing to make it easier to use the fags as sex objects.


“I think we should start by fucking our own fag,” suggested Kevin.  “But I remember that his ass is loose, so that might not be as much fun.”


But Mark had a solution, also pointing out it would be fun to get all the fags fucked at the same time.  “How about if Tommy and Ryan each start by fucking one of the house fags, who look like they’re in good shape.  As for our family fag, I suggest Kevin and I double-fuck him, which should make it tight enough to be fun.  At the same time, he can give Danny a blow job.  So, he’ll have all three of our cocks inside him at the same time.  We’ve had a lot to drink, so I’m sure we can all fill the fags with piss after we fill them with cum.”


Everyone quickly agreed, but Tommy said he was feeling a little drunk and wanted to work off a bit of the booze affect first so he could enjoy the fucking more. He also was anxious to whip the animals as they so obviously deserved.  As a result, the first activity was to string up each fag by its wrists from chains in the ceiling, so its feet were slightly off the ground and its body was able to be whipped from all sides.  The five alphas selected whips from among the wide collection displayed in the room and enthusiastically beat the backs, asses, chests, bellies, and cocks of their victims.  (They unlocked the cock cage that Bill still wore so his cock and balls would be vulnerable to the blows.  As soon as it was removed his cock got hard, which was a source of humor for the alphas.  Better still, that made it easier to whip.)  The alphas traded off among the animals, but Bill got most of the attention and was bleeding nicely from multiple fresh wounds by the time they were done.  Danny was the most enthusiastic, working up quite a sweat as he wailed on his one-time sibling.


“OK fags.  What do you have to say to us?” Ryan mockingly snarled at them.  All three fags immediately expressed their thanks for the beatings, with Bill being the most enthusiastic.  He was totally thrilled and turned on by what had just happened, and what might happen next.  He felt he might finally suffer the snuff he deserved.


The fucking session was next, and it too was a lot of fun.  Mark and Kevin commented that Bill’s ass was still too loose even with two cocks in it, adding a dildo to assure it was tight enough and that Bill felt pain as he was fucked. Danny commented that Bill at least knew how to suck cock, allowing Bill to also lick his ass and his balls.  Tommy and Ryan complemented their fags on having tight assholes, noting that this also meant there was a chance for some fun fisting to ruin theirs in anticipation of their disposal.  They all commented on how much better looking than Bill the house fags were, and on the fact their cocks were bigger than Bill’s.  None of that was actually true, but it enabled them to jeer at Bill and further humiliate him.  “Yeah,” Tommy jeered, “cock size is one more area where he underachieved.  Fuck, he managed to fail at absolutely everything – even being a decent sex slave.”


The alphas also traded off on the fucking, so the brothers would be able to enjoy the tight asses of the house fags and Tommy and Ryan could once again fuck Bill.  After all, they were the first to have done so.  They even had the house fags double-fuck Bill, adding an even larger dildo to increase the pain, just so he’d understand that he was an even lower sub-human than they were.  And they used Bill, not the house fags, as their urinal for the same reason.  That part of the evening’s entertainment was culminated with each of the fag slaves shitting into Bill’s mouth, as the alphas laughed, pointing out that Bill was fit to eat subhuman slave shit.  Bill, of course, cooperated fully and demonstrated his reaction with a very erect cock and expressions of thanks.


After the alphas satisfied their initial desire to fuck the fags, Danny asked the group: “Does anyone think they will still want to fuck Bill’s ass?  I’m personally not interested in fucking something that loose any more.”  The other four agreed, and Danny continued.  “Great.  Because I found something in the attic at home during Thanksgiving that I brought for just this occasion.  At one time it was Bill’s, and I think we should return it to him.”


With that, Danny went over to a nearby table and pulled back a cloth.  Under it was a large baseball bat.  It had been given to Bill by the high school coach with an admonition to practice hitting.  While Bill was a good center field player, he wasn’t that great a hitter.  The other team members, especially Tommy and Ryan, had laughed at Bill on the occasion.  “The fag fucker even sucks at hitting,” Tommy had told the rest of the team after the coach left.  It was Bill’s first public humiliation as a known fag.  They all laughed as Tommy recalled the event, reminding them that they’d used the bat to beat Bill and then taken it from him for further use in his beatings.  Danny had wound up owning it.


As Danny took the bat and walked over to Bill, he asked Bill if he would want it back.  “Of course, you know where it will go, my dear older brother” added Danny.  Bill said yes and thanked Danny for returning it to him.


Bill had been fisted numerous times, and had large dildos inserted into his hole, but this was far larger.  All five alphas laughed and toasted themselves with fresh drinks as first Danny and then each of the others forced the thick end of the bat into Bill’s ruined asshole.  Nor did they stop when they reached the natural end of Bill’s cavity.  They continued to push, using a large mallet to pound the bat further into the fag’s fuck channel – crushing its internal organs and increasing the intensity of its screams.  They no longer even sounded human, which made it a lot more fun for the alphas to hear.  Danny used the mallet to make sure the bat was inserted as far as we possible.


“Don’t worry,” Mark assured Bill, laughing as he again spit in his face.  “This is not what is going to kill you, although it would, given the damage to your insides.  What we’ve just done is fatal and you are now officially dying.  Your internal organs are ruined and won’t function, so your system will shut down.  But the bat also acts to stop most internal bleeding, so it will take a few days.  The bat will never come out since you’d then die far too quickly.  It’s now a permanent part of you and will assure you’re in constant, extreme pain until you’re finally disposed of.  Meanwhile, we have something far more appropriate and painful in mind.  It might even be something you could succeed at, but you’ll probably fuck that up too.”


“Speaking of that,” added Kevin.  “I’m getting a little hungry.  Anyone up for a snack?  I am, and then I think I might be all in for the night.  I’m also a little drunk so some food might help.  After all, we want to be well rested for more fun tomorrow.”


Again, everyone agreed and at this point Danny again took the lead, having spent the most time planning the trip’s fun.

“We know you like to eat shit, and that is what you deserve because you are shit.  But you don’t have any money to pay us for our shit like you should and have done in the past.  We have a solution.  First, you are to jerk off, so we can laugh at you while you cum.  To be sure you’re in the right frame of mind all five of us are going to piss down your throat as you play with your cock.  When you shoot your load, I’m going to cut off your cock as it spews your final cum.  Then I’m going to eat it.  After that Mark and Kevin will each cut off one of your balls and eat them.  That’s not much meat since your cock and balls are so puny, so we’ll find some other parts of you to make it a proper snack and let Tommy and Ryan share in the fun. Understood?”


Bill was impressed with how creative Danny’s plan was.  He thanked Danny for the chance to be used as meat even though he was not worthy, and did as instructed, using his right hand (he was right-handed) to start massaging his cock.  It quickly became hard again despite the pain he was in form the beatings and fucking, and now especially from the large bat that impaled him.  Or maybe he quickly got hard because of all that, along with the loads of piss pouring down his throat and his contemplation of the fact he was about to lose his cock and balls in an astonishingly humiliating and painful way.  Plus, it had been several days since the cock cage had been attached so he couldn’t jerk himself off.  His cock responded to acceptance of how much he deserved what was happening, and his body gyrated a little as he approached orgasm and his cock started to spew a thick final load of cum.


As Bill oozed man-juice from his throbbing cock Danny took a knife and slowly cut it off.  That instant of pleasure turned into one of unbelievable pain and humiliation.  Danny now had Bill’s manhood in his hand, holding it so Bill could see it and letting the liquids flow into Bill’s piss-filled open mouth.  Then Mark took the knife and cut off the left testicle, followed by Kevin cutting off the right one.  Bill was now totally emasculated, his manhood divided among his three brothers.  He fainted from the pain but was quickly revived.


“As Mr. Jordon mentioned, your meat is not fit for human consumption like these other fags’ is.  But we are going to give you the honor of contributing to the meat we will digest and that will become the shit we will make you eat in the morning.  We are going to eat your cock and balls,” Kevin announced.  “But first we want to hear you thank us for doing this.  After all, it was actually your idea, which you told Danny about the last time you were permitted to visit so we could fuck and whip you.  Your fag-meat genitals will become shit that we will return to you.  You will then thank us again for that gift.”


Bill responded immediately, despite all the pain, and truthfully.  “Thank you for cutting off my cock and balls and making me a subhuman eunuch as I deserve.  And thank you for doing me the honor of eating my meat and turning it into shit, which is also what I deserve and ultimately what I am.”   Bill was sincere in what he said.  He knew this was more than he deserved.


Danny started by putting the drained cock into his mouth, positioned so Bill could watch.  “Fuck, this tastes terrible,” he announced.  “I doubt it will even make decent shit.”  To avoid any further taste, and since it was so puny, he just swallowed the cock whole.  Mark and Kevin went next, actually enjoying the freshly cut testicles.  “This is kind of tasty,” Kevin commented.  “But I don’t think there’s any point eating the scrotum.  It probably tastes as bad as the cock.”  So he tossed the little piece of skin into Bill’s mouth, instructing to eat his own ball sac, which of course Bill did.  As his brothers ate the genitals while Bill watched, Mark elaborated on the process.  “We didn’t eat much today so we can be sure our morning dumps tomorrow will include what had been your cock and balls.  And we’ve taken some diuretics that will cause the meat to move through our systems far more rapidly than usual.  We don’t want any part of you inside us any longer than necessary, even as meat being digested.  That means we’ll shit in your face what had been your own meat, but it won’t be completely digested and will be even more disgusting than usual.  Just to be sure there’s enough, and to let Tommy and Ryan also join in the fun, we’re going to help ourselves to some of the rest of your meat.”


Danny picked up the theme as he reached for Bill’s right hand, explaining: “Now that you don’t have a cock to jerk off, you really don’t need your right hand.  That’s the one you used to use for that.  We could eat that, but it’s not very tasty and doesn’t have much meat.  Your fucking cock was disgusting enough.  We’re thinking your arm might have some meat that’s better, but the worthless hand is in the way.   I’m going to cut it off and save it for later use.  But first I’m going to punish it for all that jerking off.”  Danny smashed the useless jerk-off tool with the mallet he’d used to drive the bat into Bill’s ass, crushing the bones and laughing at his own cleverness as he then cut it off and tossed it into a nearby container.  What he was after was the meat on the arm, and he used the knife to slice that off, sharing it among all five alpha males.  They ate it raw, again with Bill watching in agony.  The amount of pain from having flesh cut away from his live body was beyond Bill’s comprehension, and he was horse from screaming and had to be revived several times.  “There, that should assure there’s enough shit made from you to provide what you deserve to eat tomorrow.”  And with that, the alphas left for their luxurious rooms while the house fags cauterized Bill’s bleeding body, so it would remain alive for further use.  Then they, in turn, reported to Mr. Jordon’s room for further punishment.


The Angry Reaper

Near the Coast of the Bahamas

The morning after their arrival had been as much fun as the prior evening had been.  It started with the five young alpha males assembling in the S&M torture room where Bill had spent the night in the cage.  They laughed at his ruined body as they awakened him.  The house fags had simply cut off what remained of his right arm and applied a tourniquet to prevent further bleeding, tossing what had remained after the meat was sliced off and eaten the night before into the nearby bucket with the crushed hand.  Ryan joked that they had found the perfect way to prevent a fag from jerking itself off.


All five took turns taking their morning dump into Bill’s open and willing mouth, following it with loads of piss.  It was even more fun than they’d anticipated because the effect of the diuretics was not only to make much of the shit unusually runny and disgusting, but also to cause some to contain undigested pieces of the meat.  As Danny took his dump the group noticed one piece of shit that was clearly the remnant of Bill’s cock, which Danny had swallowed without chewing.  The glans at its tip was still recognizable even in the rest of the pile of shit and hey made sure Bill chewed it thoroughly before swallowing his own man-muscle.  The testicles had been more thoroughly digested so they weren’t distinct within the piles Mark and Kevin contributed.  Besides, as they pointed out, they were very small – an observation that generated more laughter.  The runny mass of shit was truly disgusting, but Bill swallowed all of it as instructed, thanking the alphas for their gift.  He literally was eating himself in his proper form – as shit.  The degrading sight led to lots more fun abuse, and while they ridiculed Bill they also had him clean out his mouth, so he could give each alpha a morning blow job, gratefully swallowing their cum to follow all the piss and shit.  It had been a fabulously fun and entertaining start to the day.


As Bill finished expressing his thanks, Danny spoke up again, asking the group: “Does anyone want to hear any more out of this fag?”  They all said no, so Danny took a scissors and used it to cut off Bill’s tongue.  He tossed that into Bill’s mouth with instructions and an explanation.  “It’s about time you bit your tongue, faggot.  But this won’t get digested since your innards are ruined and your asshole is plugged for good.  But you are still required to chew it and swallow.  Other than shit and piss it’s the last thing you’ll ever eat.”   As the rest of the group spat in Bill’s face, Danny lashed his chest brutally for failing to thank Danny for preventing him from embarrassing himself by talking.  Bill tried to mouth a thank-you, but hat just caused Danny to whip him harder.

“I’m ready for a hearty breakfast and then ready to go deep sea fishing,” Mark announced next, to the cheers of the group.  They all had gone down to the dock and boarded Mr. Jordon’s impressive fishing yacht, The Angry Reaper.  He had named it in honor of his lifelong passion for ridding the world of useless fags.


The house fags were on board in case anyone wanted to beat them or fuck them, but the focus of the day was on fishing, and there was an expert crew to assist them.  Bill had also been brought on board, placed on his back in a tub that was designated not only to store him but also for the passengers to use when they needed to urinate or take a dump.  His severed arm and hand were in a small tub next to him.  After everyone pointed to where his cock and balls had been and had a good laugh, Mr. Jordon explained the day’s plan, and Bill suddenly realized what had been branded on his chest and what his purpose was.  He once again admired and appreciated the appropriateness of Danny’s ideas.


“We want to attract the big fish that inhabit these warm waters, and that requires the right bait.  Over the years I’ve learned that fresh fag body parts work wonderfully well for that, and as you can see we have a fag already branded for what it now is – “live bait.”  But I have also discovered that the fish are even more interested if the live bait has been soaked in a mixture of piss and shit.  So, while I know it’s a little embarrassing for some of you to urinate and shit in public, you’ll be adding to that mixture and increasing the chances of catching something impressive as fag parts are attached to your fishing lines.  Our expert crew will do the cutting, as it is important to keep the fag alive, so the bait stays fresh.  We think there’s enough of it to serve as bait for all three days of our adventure if we’re careful.  And, of course, this also means it will spend part of the day, and each night, soaking in a solution of filth that attracts fish and befits its status.  Also, try to aim for its mouth so it will swallow as much as possible, which also helps flavor the meat to be better bait.”


The group moved a little closer to the tub where Bill was being stored.  The young alphas had stripped down to tight Speedos, which allowed them to enjoy the warm sun, get a tan, and show off their awesome alpha bodies.  The sheer dominance of the situation – themselves as big sea fishermen, the house fags as service animals, and Bill as live bait – had aroused their masculine instincts big time.  The tight swimsuits did nothing to hide the large erections that resulted.  What they did not realize, and what would have annoyed them, is how much this turned Bill on.  He was no longer a sexual animal, of course, but he was still a fag.  And as he viewed the fantastic man-flesh looming over his ruined body he once again realized how much he worshiped their forms and how right it was for them to use, torture, and dispose of him.  If he had still had a cock it probably would have shot a load without him even touching it.


Since it was Danny’s idea to use Bill as bait he got the first piece of meat to add to the hook at the end of his fishing line.  It was a nice slice of thigh-meat, and everyone enjoyed watching the expert crew cut it off while listening to Bill’s pathetic attempts at screaming without his tongue.  Yet as Danny moved even closer to enjoy the show his god-like body and the sight of his perfect, erect cock outlined by the tight Speedo meant Bill had no complaints.  A little blood flowed into the tub before the wound was closed by adding a tight tourniquet just above the right thigh below the butt.  That way they could remove more bait from the thigh and leg, which they did as they prepared the lines for the other vacationers.  Danny’s added load of piss down Bill’s throat contributed a bit more fun to the opening scenario and set a good example for the others when they needed to piss.  Since Bill’s cock had been removed and his sphincter crushed by the bat, the piss that went into his mouth soon emptied out of the piss-hole that remained, for him to lie in.  Mr. Thompson especially approved, and everyone got another good laugh.  By the time the vacationers were set up with their fishing lines, Bill’s right leg and thigh were mostly devoid of meat or muscle.    The crew saw to it he stayed alive and awake to entertain the passengers, but Bill had another purpose to fulfill once they reached the desired fishing area and the boat was put at anchor.  Bill was tied with ropes, using the handle of the bat and his neck as the key points of contact to keep his body upright, and lowered over the side of the board, bouncing off the boat to the amusement of everyone.  As Mr. Jordon explained, the piss-soaked live body was the key to attracting large fish to within range of the lines of the fishermen.  Bill was literally live bait, and Mr. Jordon was correct.  Within a short time, Bill’s body attracted a large shark, which surfaced as it took a bite out of Bill’s butchered leg.  Mr. Jordon was quite pleased as this meant the tourniquet would stop further bleeding and they could leave Bill in the water to keep performing his function of attracting fish.  But the big excitement was when the shark bit the piece of fag meat at the end of Tommy’s line, and with help form the expert crew Tommy was able to land the huge predator.  He was absolutely thrilled.


“Hey, Tommy, you just caught a shark.  I thought you lawyers didn’t do that.  You know, professional courtesy and all that?”  Ryan’s joke got a huge laugh, and although everyone caught at least something on their first day of fishing, this catch was the highlight of the day.  Fag bait was once again successful, as Mr. Jordon had predicted.  Bill was hauled back into the boat and placed in the tub to marinate further, so he’d be ready for day 2 of the adventure.  By then the tub was full and the five young alphas added some piss and shit to fill it even more, as always aiming at Bill’s open mouth.


The vacationers returned to the resort and had another fantastic evening, enjoying delicious food and fine wines, which included fresh shark along with one of the house fags that Mr. Jordon had ordered bar-be-cued live for their enjoyment.  Everyone agreed the fag’s meat was delicious, and the young alphas commented how much better it was than the samples they’d had of Bill.  They had contemplated eating a bit more of him, so they could again shit on him with his own meat, but concluded he wasn’t good enough and didn’t deserve the honor anyway.  “We clearly allocated the fags to the right tasks,” Mark noted.  The real joy, however, was everyone seeing how happy Mr. Thompson was with the day’s events.  He had caught a large snapper, so he had enjoyed the fishing, but mostly he was thrilled with how the day reflected on their shared view of fags and the need to dispose of them.  He and Mr. Jordon had a lively, enthusiastic exchange on that, and Mr. Thompson was effusive in his complements, also taking note of how well the young alphas were humiliating, punishing, and dismembering Bill.  Mr. Thompson was both thrilled and grateful.


After dinner the young alphas again had fun torturing and fucking the house fags.  Mr. Jordon had not only replaced the one who had been eaten but added four others, so each young alpha had one to play with.  It was especially fun as the three new ones were still in training.  Training a fag to know its place and purpose was great fun.  Their live bait, meanwhile, remained on the yacht marinating in the tub of filth.


Day 2 was also successful, starting on the yacht with everyone shitting and pissing into Bill’s mouth and all over what remained of his body.  Tommy had joked about his Speedo creating a tan line, and Mr. Jordon encouraged the young alphas to skip the swim suites. “Young alpha males traditionally hunted and competed naked, and I think you’ll enjoy that as well as taking care of Tommy’s tan line concern.”  Then Danny also pointed out being naked would be more convenient for pissing and shitting on Bill, and for using the house fag slaves for sexual release.  Of course, what he really liked, but didn’t say, was the fact it meant he could show off his well-shaped cock, which was a bit bigger than the other four.  Given the amount of testosterone that the setting generated, all five of the young cocks were erect for much of the day, with the house fags well used for sexual relief.  Bill, of course, was no longer an option to use for that, with his ass plugged by the bat and no tongue remaining to give a proper blow job.


The only slight hitch of the day was Bill being severely bitten by a barracuda as he danged form the side of the boat.  The bite was obviously no problem – it was amusing to watch – but it meant he had to be hauled up for a bit while the wound was treated.  The fish had bitten him in the chest, where he had been branded “live bait” so at least the interruption had an ironic and humorous aspect.  Mr. Jordon ordered the repair because he wanted the bait to stay alive for all three days.  However, the huge plus side of that was that the prize game fish had then bitten Mr. Thompson’s line, generating what he would often refer to as the most fun day he’d ever had.  Even Bill was pleased, listening to the events while being repaired and realizing he had caused something good in his father’s life.  Of course, no one else considered that aspect, especially not Mr. Thompson.


As they again headed back to the resort, they all commented that the experiences and comradery were terrific.  So was the evening, this time not featuring the prize game fish to accompany the live fag meat, as Mr. Thompson wanted to have his trophy prepared for mounting in his living room in Vermont.  But the fresh snapper went well with the grilled live fag.


As they reached the boat for day 3, they all observed that Bill had been thoroughly marinated in blood, shit, and piss from their efforts, but they were amused to note he also had been the target of seagulls during the evening and early morning.  “Even the birds think he’s best used as a target for shit,” Tommy observed, and everyone agreed.  They then engaged in the now-traditional entertainment of pissing and shitting on Bill, and then they increased the quantity of bait used on their lines, leaving Bill with neither arms nor legs, let alone a cock, even before he was lowered into the water to perform a final day’s duty as live bait.  This was followed by dumping the tub overboard so all the “marinate” soaked his body and the water around him.  Bill was live bait, and after the day’s fishing he would be of no further use.  So there was no further need for the marinate and no one paid attention when he was bitten multiple times.  His body had attracted lots of fish this day as well, so it didn’t matter if he was still alive or not.


When the day was done, and the yacht powered up for the journey back to the resort, Danny happened to look over the side and, to his surprise, realized that Bill was still alive, albeit barely.  Danny also saw another giant shark in the distance heading toward Bill.  He alerted the rest of the group, since he not only had no objection to Bill being eaten by a shark, he figured that would be fun to watch.  The group assembled quickly to observe the fun, but then Danny remembered Mr. Jordon had told him sharks tend to leave a lot of the carcass to float away.  It would be inconvenient if part of Bill washed up on shore.  Mr. Jordon had recommended a different approach, and the five young alphas did a fast game of rock/paper/scissors to see who would do the honors.  Danny won, and as the group watched he casually cut loose the rope that was keeping Bill upright in the water near the side of the ship.  As Bill was pulled under the ship by the powerful engines and props his eyes briefly met Danny’s, and Bill tried to mouth the “thank you” he genuinely felt.  He had finally been used to provide pleasure for his former family and then disposed of as befit a fag object as disgusting as he always had been, removing a point of family shame.  But, to the cheers of the onlookers, Danny flipped him off and spat into the water.  They all heard a satisfying “thud” followed by a brief slowing of the engines.   Mr. Jordon assured them the special design of the props meant what was left of the fag was now thoroughly ground up.  Bill wasn’t the first fag who’d been used as live bait needing to be fully disposed of after use, nor even a noteworthy one.


As the engines returned to full power and the yacht began its journey, the vacationers were served fresh drinks and celebrated both the great day fishing and the disposal of Bill.  Mr. Thompson suggested a picture of the five young alphas, who quickly returned to the side of the ship and posed.  Their naked bodies glistened in the sun, shoaling off their masculinity (which included impressive cocks since the recent thrill had caused each to become erect).  They smiled at the camera and held their drinks up for a toast. Danny, in the center, held up the end of the rope he had just cut, with an appropriate look of triumph.  It was the perfect reminder of their vacation and their accomplishment, and they continued to congratulate each other as they recalled the fun details.


The final evening was the best celebration of all, and Mr. Jordon processed another of the house slaves to create his favorite “fish and fag fry” feast.  All his guests were effusive in their thanks, especially Mr. Thompson.  “This was a fantastic trip in every respect, and I now feel I can truly have pride in my entire family.”  Neither he nor anyone else was ever bothered by the thought of Bill again, and the photo was a treasured reminder of the reason why.

THE AMS NETWORK By Gay Slavemeat

I am indebted to one of my readers not only for the core idea of the AMS organization but for some of the writing.  Part One is my work, but Part Two relies heavily on his.  I have his permission to use his ideas and such, but he did not want to be identified.


This story also features another reader, Cody, who had some good ideas on how he might be snuffed.  I really liked Cody’s ideas and think he will enjoy his fate (I would).  I welcome ideas and requested themes, along with any feedback – positive or negative – from readers.







William and Cody were both gay studs with amazing bodies, different in most ways but sharing an intense interest in extreme S&M male sex.  They initially found each other on, a delightful site dedicated to male torture, snuff, and cannibalism, and they decided to connect in person after they learned the site was being taken down like so many others they enjoyed.  It took a while to set up the meeting, as William lived in New York and Cody in Silicon Valley, each with very full schedules because they were very successful in their careers.


When they finally met the sexual energy was intense and sparks flew.  One reason the “meeting” was a huge success, was because of the complementary nature of their differences.  William was a totally dominant sadist, and Cody was a totally submissive masochist.  There was also an age difference.  William was established, in his late 40s, with a network of colleagues built around an elite S&M society he led.  Cody was a high-tech investor in his mid-20s whose friends centered on the gay S&M bars where he hung out.  He had been orphaned in high school, and then dropped out and used the insurance proceeds his father left him to become a full-time investor when he was not chasing gay sex.  He turned the proceeds into a serious fortune with brilliant Silicon Valley investments.


They also differed in appearance.  William had a massive and imposing build, highlighted by the leather vest, leather pants, and steel-toed leather boots he wore not only during S&M sessions but as his regular garb. The pants had a removable leather pouch at the crotch, so he could free his massive cock for its tasks, enabling his sex partners to worship his cock and huge, low-hanging balls after they knelt before him and used their teeth to unfasten the snaps.  Then they sucked the giant cock or positioned themselves to receive it up their willing assholes (or unwilling – he enjoyed raping guys who were forced to serve him, breaking them down to become yet another of his slaves).  He kept the vest open to show off the thick black hair on his muscular chest, which accentuated his thick beard.  His mere presence was intimidating, and his dominance became increasingly clear as he used his strength and force of personality to control all the many males who served him sexually before being disposed of.  He was always the “top” – the ultimate alpha male.  Indeed, it would be technically wrong to refer to sex “partners” as there was no partnership, only dominance and service to satisfy William’s limitless lust.  There was only William, using other males merely as sex objects.


Cody was a nearly perfect sex object for William.  He had a slight build, although he was just as fit.  His nerdy twink look included moderate chest and body hair and a neatly trimmed beard.  He felt it made him more sexy-looking for the guys he serviced in gay S&M bars and clubs, which it did.  He often bribed the managers at gay leather bars to let him be totally naked and let the dominant males (and the eager managers) whip him and fuck him in public while he was tied up.  After all, with such a great young body anxious to be used he was an appealing fuck. And he had the money to pay for the public sex and humiliation he craved.


Preparations for the first session with William and Cody affirmed their roles.  When they exchanged pictures over the web.  William refused to send a picture of himself naked, offering only a head shot.  But he instructed Cody to send a portfolio of himself naked, both front and back, with his cock placid and with it hard, including one with him bent over holding his butt cheeks open to view his hole, and including one with him on his knees with his cock hard and his mouth open to receive another guy’s dick and service it.  William did not want to waste his time on someone with an inadequate body or someone who was not going to be obedient.  Then, when William had reviewed the pictures he instructed Cody to get a shorter haircut and not only to shave off his beard but to remove all his body hair.  The removal was to be permanent so William would not have to deal with the issue if he decided to continue having sex with Cody.  William was only interested in animals with totally smooth, hairless skin for his use.


Cody was shocked, and started to write an email protesting, since he liked the way his body looked and felt.  But there was something about William that caused him to pause and reconsider.  This was a level of domination he had never encountered, and it turned him on.  A lot.  So he did as instructed, and then arranged another, identical set of pictures with his now hairless body shown for William’s approval, including, as instructed, a series of shots showing him on his knees, cock hard to the point it was sticking straight up and leaking a little pre-cum, hands tied behind his back, a large dildo sticking out his ass, wearing a dog collar, and mouth open wide to receive his master’s cock.  That instruction alone settled any issue for Cody as to whether he wanted to proceed, and when he had a few guys at the bar he frequented take the shots Cody had no trouble achieving the erection and attitude required.  (He also got fucked a lot that night since it turned on the other guys in the bar as well.  It was a great evening.)


At that point William sent Cody an address and the time for his arrival, further informing him he was to strip naked and place all his clothing in a hamper near the door, ringing the doorbell once he had also achieved an erection.  There was no acknowledgement of Cody’s prior obedience.  That was what William expected and always received.


Cody arrived at William’s house as instructed, a massive 5-acre estate in the middle of New York Cody checked his cell phone to be sure he rang the doorbell at exactly the right time, placing the phone in the hamper as he did so.  As the door opened Cody was standing silently at attention in front of his new master. The excitement of what might lie ahead had meant there was no problem getting and staying hard even though it was a cold, snowy day.  Like so many others he was overwhelmed and thrilled by the sight of William in his leather gear, wondering but not asking what the emblem “AMS” embroidered on William’s vest referred to.  But Cody could guess the meaning of “Alpha 1” underneath it, a term Cody understood applied to William but definitely did not apply to Cody.  Perhaps what surprised Cody the most was the effect on him of no longer having any body hair.  Somehow he felt much more naked, and it was a huge added turn-on.  He realized it wasn’t how sexy he looked that mattered, but how available and vulnerable.  His prior appearance was that of a person, albeit highly submissive.  Now he appeared for inspection as what he was – a piece of male meat utterly under the control of a true alpha male and ready for whatever use was to be made of him.  Or “it.”   Cody had never been so utterly turned on.


Cody was a fantastic specimen of male sexuality, experienced in his role as a masochistic slave, and being naked and inspected by William had made him even more rock hard, dripping pre-cum.  William immediately took complete control and examined Cody’s body like it was a horse or cow being purchased at an auction.  But William was far more respectful of the horses he bought for his racing stable. Even the cattle on his ranch our West were better treated than his sex targets.  Cody’s skin was pinched and slapped, his mouth opened to inspect his tongue and teeth, his nipples twisted hard, his cock measured for length and thickness, and his balls grasped and harshly squeezed to gage their size and start to gage Cody’s pain tolerance.  After William finished the inspection with Cody bending over and spreading his ass cheeks so William could examine his hole, he was permitted to enter the house and followed William to a large dungeon.  William then used Cody as the sex object he was – and wanted to be.  When William had satiated his sadistic sexual lust, Cody lay on the floor bleeding form the floggings he’d received, his asshole filled with cum and piss, and his body unconscious from the breath-play William had performed, choking his new slave to the point of losing consciousness as William shot yet another load up Cody’s ass.  William had not spoken a word to Cody but Cody had taken the signals and obeyed totally and silently as he was fucked and tortured.  William had not removed any of his own clothing but allowed Cody to use his teeth to remove the leather pouch that covered William’s immense, hard cock.  William placed a leather dog collar on Cody, attached to a leash so he could lead his new sex object to where he wanted it for William’s pleasure.  William had had multiple orgasms shot up Cody’s ass and had released several loads of piss down Cody’s throat.  Cody had not cum except once as he passed out from being choked, but that orgasm had been amazingly intense for him and entertaining for William.  William loved the simultaneous thrill as the body he was fucking lost consciousness while having an orgasm, which enhanced the pleasure and sense of dominance (to William the same thing) of his own orgasm.  Cody’s orgasm was an involuntary reaction to the effect of being fucked and choked, a reaction William was aware would occur, and the pleasure Cody felt was acceptable because it was pleasurable and entertaining for William.  Everything had perfectly and naturally fallen into place.


When Cody returned to consciousness he thanked his tormentor for using him, apologized for having had an unauthorized orgasm, and asked if he could make a request to further express his gratitude.  Their roles had so naturally come together that Cody realized he only deserved pain, not pleasure, and that this was an appropriate way for Cody to inquire – permission of the master was inherently necessary before a slave would be allowed to speak, and when, or even it, he had an orgasm was up to William.  This was also what William expected and demanded, and he was pleased to see Cody already, and clearly. understanding their roles.  William was secretly both curious and hopeful about this new piece of young male meat kneeling on the floor with its head bowed, so he allowed Cody to proceed.


“Thank you master.  I have been in lots of S&M scenes, always as the victim, but nothing like this one.  I am also grateful you caused me to understand how my flesh should be presented to accentuate its nakedness and vulnerability.  We already knew we are both turned on by extreme sex, and that our natural roles are complementary.  You’re the best master I’ve ever served and also the sexiest and most dominant.  It was amazing, and I am honored and deeply grateful to have been used so viciously and completely, knowing that I don’t deserve the attention but do deserve the humiliation and pain.  I am deeply sorry for having cum without advance permission but am confident you can train me so the natural involuntary orgasm that comes from being choked unconscious will not occur if that is your wish, or perhaps accomplishing that by removing my genitals.  I acknowledge your right to neuter me to prevent me from feeling pleasure ever again.  That is your decision, as are all choices related to my body.  To clarify that reality I would like to make it formal.  I have always been decisive and make decisions quickly.  So, this is not an impulsive or random offer.  Quite simply, I offer you myself as your slave.  Completely and permanently.  Would you consider having me become your property?  I know my body wouldn’t be a gift that is worthy of you, since I’m just a worthless piece of shit, but I would be honored to become your slave if you will accept me, and I will utterly devote myself to your pleasure no matter what.  I would of course also turn over all my belongs to you as part of the transaction, which may help make up for my own worthlessness as I’ve done well financially.  You would own me to do with as you wish, and I would just be a piece of male meat, having no rights and owning nothing, not even myself.  I would be yours to use, command, or dispose of as you wish.”


William was pleased, not admitting that this was his secret hope.  Cody turned him on massively, more than any other slave he’d tortured and fucked.  He had already decided to make Cody his slave whether he wanted to be or not based on the emails and pictures Cody had shared earlier, but was even more turned on to have it happen voluntarily – a natural acceptance by Cody of his role as property and no longer as a person.  But William made the conditions clear.  “You are indeed a piece of shit and utterly worthless.  You deserve massive pain and humiliation.  The fact your orgasm was involuntary is irrelevant.  You did not have permission and I am tempted to cut off your cock and balls right now as punishment and to assure it doesn’t happen again.  But your body turns me on as it is, including the genitals and the orgasm you achieve as I’m fucking and choking you.  The added pleasure I feel watching you cum causes me to tolerate your brief pleasure as you pass out.  It’s an amusing and humiliating aspect of breath play.  But if you ever cum without my permission understand that you will lose your genitals, and it will be exceptionally painful for you.  You’re just a sex object – a pathetic piece of shit.  You will only feel pleasure when and it augments my pleasure.  You have no other purpose.


“The session wasn’t as good as it should have been, because I wasn’t sure if you would cooperate if I had decided to snuff you, torturing you to death as you deserve.  I didn’t kill you in this session, since you’re still interesting to me, with lots of torture and humiliation options to explore, but I want it clear that this is my right when I feel like doing so.  I’m not interested in ‘pretend’ slavery.  It must be the real thing.  You’ll be my property and I will do with you and to you whatever I want.  Your role is to be cooperative and grateful and eventually to die in total pain and humiliation at my hands for my pleasure and amusement  Understood?.”


“Absolutely, master” was Cody’s enthusiastic response.  “You own my body, and when you get tired of it you are of course free to destroy it however you want to.  To be honest, that’s part of what I want too, not that my desires are at all relevant.  If you had decided it was time to kill me in our first session, I’d have cooperated fully, and that is still your option if that amuses you now.  I know that is my eventual and appropriate fate, and it is up to my owner to decide when and how I am killed.  I’ll be your slave for as long or as short a time as you want, and when you kill me maybe I’d even be part of your meal if you think I deserve that added honor.  There are lots of good stories on the websites we both like to give your ideas, and some of them are extraordinarily painful, ending with a great meal for the owner while the meat is still alive and able to express its thanks as it is eaten.  Or sell me, alive or cut up into pieces.  Or whatever you decide.  Your whims are my commands.  I have always wanted to serve someone sexually and totally, and there are no limits whatsoever and no turning back.”


“Good.  I accept your unworthy offer.  You have 10 days to return to California, sell everything you own, and turn over the proceeds to me upon your return.  During this 10-day period convert your assets into bitcoin.  That way no one can ever trace it and it will be final.  Develop a story such that no one will ever come looking for you when you disappear, although I doubt anyone would care about a piece of shit like you.  You will serve me with absolute obedience.  When I feel like it you will die a horrible death.


“You will learn to live as a slave during these 10 days; your slavery starts now.  If you don’t obey me totally I’ll know, and you will be deprived of the opportunity to serve me.  I’ll have you killed as a random act of violence.  Return to my front door in 10 days, totally nude and with your cock hard.  Slaves should always be naked, so you are never again to wear any clothing.  Slaves are property, so you no longer have a name.  You don’t deserve that.  To remind you of your role and fate, you are now snuffslave.  That’s a category of property, not a name. Since you are the 187nd such slave property I’ve owned, you are snuffslave 187.  You are to call me “sir” or “master.”  Don’t have any delusions.  At some point I WILL torture you to death and probably eat your meat, as I have done with the prior 186 snuffslave objects.  Nor are you anything special.  You’re just a snuffslave I haven’t snuffed yet. So your name is appropriate.  When I feel like it, I’ll convert you from a living sex slave to a dead piece of slave meat.”


As the snuffslave formerly known as Cody accepted these terms with enthusiasm, William illustrated his points, and administered punishment for the unauthorized orgasm, by brutally kicking snuffslave #187 in the balls with his steel-toed boot.  When 187 doubled over in pain a second kick to the gut sent it sprawling onto the ground, barely able to recover its breadth.  More kicks to the vulnerable naked body caused 187 to convulse and fall to the floor writhing in pain.  The kicks were then alternated with lashes form a whip enhanced with metal tips to cause deeper lacerations as the entire body was kicked and flogged.  The beating eventually rendered 187 unconscious again, releasing the bladder and causing 187 to piss all over itself.  William left his new slave lying in its own piss, admiring his impact on the unconscious body as he pissed all over it.  Then he took a break to shower and fix himself a well-deserved drink to celebrate his new acquisition.


When 187 recovered consciousness for the second time, he was instructed to clean up the mess he had made by licking his piss and cum off the floor.  187 did what his master ordered, genuinely thanking his master for using him and hoping his pain and humiliation could provide further pleasure and amusement.  As he finished his thanks, the next kick was to his butt as he began licking up the piss, sending him sprawling again, so the waste was all over the bleeding body.


After 187 finally managed to lick the floor clean, followed by also cleaning William’s boots, William led him by the leash, doggy-style on all fours, to a room adjoining the torture playroom.  It contained a firepit that had a red-hot branding iron ready for use.  “I want everyone who sees you to know what you are,” William sneered.  He tied 187 on his back to a rack with arms and legs spread-eagled, stretching them to the point where 187 had no choice but to scream in pain as his shoulders were dislocated.  William added lashes to the belly to balance out the earlier ones on the back but didn’t apply much to the chest.  For that he walked over to the firepit and retrieved the branding iron.  As 187 screamed in pain and William enjoyed the sweet smell of burning flesh, the branding iron seared into 187’s chest its status and number – snuffslave 187.  Despite the extraordinary intensity of the pain, 187 properly thanked its master for such clear labeling of the master’s new property.  And the snuffslave formerly known as Cody realized its fate had been determined long before it had walked in the door.  William had already made the decision to make 187 a snuffslave before they even met and had the branding iron ready to confirm it, as was proper.  The only variable had been whether William would have to condition him or if 187 would accept its fate as the inherent right of alpha males like William.



snuffslave training


The next instruction after being branded was for 187 to go outside and wash itself off in the freezing cold with the garden hose by the front door.  187 was then to stand on the street corner until otherwise instructed, labeled for what it was.  William locked the door and called a buddy who was the local police chief.  The chief then sent a deputy to the house who arrested 187 for indecent exposure.  187 spent his first night as a slave locked naked in a cold  jail cell, with other prisoners encouraged to rape him once the cops were finished doing so.  They all laughed at his branded chest, which was a great source of ridicule.  The deputy, Duncan, was especially vicious and added a load of piss down 187’s throat, which inspired others to do the same.  Willian enjoyed the videos the chief and Duncan made  of their fun, including when they delivered 187 to the Greyhound station with a ticket for the three-day bus ride back to California.  William had arranged a bribe for the bus driver to permit 187 to be naked during the ride, remaining on the bus and consuming no food or liquids other than the piss and cum of the driver and any other interested passengers.  With the driver’s encouragement, lots of other passengers also used his body, especially his cute, available ass.  And hardly anyone used the urinal in the bus itself with availability of one that would come to their seat, kneel in the aisle, and accept their piss with gratitude.  They also laughed at his branding, commenting how appropriate it was for a worthless piece of shit like 187 to get snuffed.   They were just disappointed when the driver told them it wasn’t scheduled to happen during the bus ride.  (187, of course, had no idea when or how it would happen, just that someday it would.)  William wanted 187 to adjust to the humiliation of its new “status” and through another law enforcement friend, who was part of William’s AMS society, William also arranged for 187 to be arrested again upon arrival in Silicon Valley and kept overnight in jail for more gang rapes and humiliation. Before being  forced to walk naked back to his condo the gleeful cops had him get an erection, placed a tight cock ring on his penis, and plied him with Viagra so he would remain erect, adding a slave collar around his neck and a dildo sticking out his ass to complete the effect.  That didn’t bother 187 at all, enjoying the erection and hoping the humiliation was adding pleasure for the onlookers who laughed and made fun of him.


When 187 arrived the building manager let him into his unit once 187 sucked his cock to get him erect and then bent over while the manager removed the dildo, fucked him in the elevator lobby, and then rammed the dildo back in place – all to the amusement of the onlookers in the lobby.  The manager had no problem believing 187’s story that he had decided to become a nudist and move to Key West, which was warmer and had a more concentrated gay community that included S&M groups.  After all, the manager had whipped and fucked 187 many times at the local gay leather bar they both frequented.   The few people who knew 187 were aware he was a faggot into S&M, so no one would bother to verify the story when the manager spread it around the local S&M crowd, and no one would care.   When the manager asked if the brand was a joke 187 admitted it was real, saying it was a condition of the Key West S&M group he had joined.  The fact this meant he might be snuffed was of no interest or concern to 187’s “friends.”  The manager commented that he had hoped it was real and asked 187 to be sure to alert him when he was going to get snuffed so he could attend the event and join in the fun.  He figured he could watch and maybe even help torture him, and hoped it was especially painful for 187.  187 said that was not his decision but admitted he shared the hope it would be slow, painful, and entertaining.


187’s unit was the penthouse of the luxury condo building.  When he opened the door he was stunned to see that it was essentially empty.   There was only a wooden table with his computer and cell phone on it, and several cans of cheap dog food on the shelf in the kitchen.  Next to that were some plastic jugs that contained liquid, and he realized when he opened one that they were all filled with a mixture of piss and cum.  William had arranged for his ongoing indoctrination, and the instructions next to the computer included the time of the return bus ride along with a bus ticket and a reminder that he was to stay naked.  He was to eat only dog food, drink only piss and cum, sell everything he owned, and give the proceeds to his new master via an identified bitcoin account.  187 was impressed, grateful, and excited, quickly turning to the assigned tasks after taking a large swig of the piss/cum combo.  He was not only utterly content but sexually excited, his cock growing hard as he thought of what likely lay in store for him.  But as an obedient slave he didn’t masturbate since he did not have permission to cum.  He wondered if he would be permitted to cum at some point before he was killed and how long William would keep him alive, but 187 also realized these decisions were none of his business and certainly not his to make.  He knew this was his proper role.  He knew this was what he wanted and far better than he deserved.  He felt fortunate to have found such a fantastic master.



An AMS video event


Meanwhile, William was congratulating himself on creating perfect training, so his new property would understand its status and purpose and adjust accordingly.  But William had other tasks and responsibilities beyond just arranging the acquisition of his latest snuffslave, and while 187 was heading west William was hosting an event at his estate.  It took place in the large playroom where he’d tortured 187, but there was now a set of cameras and an expert film crew.  His buddy the chief of police was there, along with Duncan, who was a stud in his early thirties.  The Chief, as he was always called, was about William’s age and build, dressed in leather with a vest that featured an embroidered “AMS” under which it read ALPHA 2, identical to William’s ALPHA 1. Duncan wore a leather harness and jock strap but was otherwise naked.  Sitting in a wooden chair to which he was tied was a nineteen-year-old totally naked male twink who was fit, gorgeous, and terrified.  William smiled and addressed the main camera.


“Good evening members and guests, and welcome to our regular AMS broadcast – celebrating the Art of Male Snuff.  We have a fun show for you tonight, with an especially deserving and attractive award winner, so let’s get right to it.  You probably remember my co-host, Chief Nelson, who leads the AMS America’s region and has brought one of his promising young trainees, Duncan, to join us this evening” The camera focused on the Chief and Duncan, who smiled and waved.


“Duncan wants to join AMS, and as you know we have an initiation ceremony in five months as we celebrate the summer solstice.  That is always a huge amount of fun, and the Chief and I thought it would be nice to give a little preview.  Duncan has always been an absolute sadist, and he has had one of the best mentors anywhere.  So he’s ready to commit to our society and will pledge his loyalty at the ceremony.  Or perhaps he’ll be unlucky, and he’ll not make it past the initiation ceremony.  He’s on board either way, as are all AMS members.


“Tonight, we are going to induct another member of the Darwin Award Culinary Society and Duncan is going to audition by doing the honors.  As you know, this is a specially selected group of award winners.  All the AMS members pursue snuff as the art it should be, and we agree that at some point each member will himself die for the sake of that art.  AMS is a select and prestigious group of alpha males who enjoy the sadistic sex of a good snuff but honor the art more than themselves.


“There are others who are not deserving, and who are worthless drags on society.  One of the AMS services we provide is to eliminate them, and to do so before they breed and dilute our species.  As Darwin taught us, survival of the fittest demands their elimination from the gene pool, and as artists we perform the snuff to protect the gene pool and to advance our art, which means maximizing their pain and our entertainment.  It’s a culinary society since we don’t waste their meat and our artistry continues in the kitchen as we butcher and enjoy the delicious flesh of our award winners, always fresh and often while it’s still alive.


We especially appreciate and welcome our pay-per-view patrons, who help fund AMS by supporting our civic endeavors.  We hope everyone gets “off” as we “off” our award winner this evening.  We know you’ll enjoy watching the award ceremony as he dies.  He’s a petty thief, a drug addict, and Duncan has had to arrest him multiple times.  So he’s a well-qualified award winner.  And a very sexy one who should be a lot of fun to fuck and snuff.”


With that, the three men approached the trembling youth, who had heard William’s introduction and was now sobbing and begging for mercy.  William slapped him hard in the face to get his attention.


“Shut up.  You should be honored, since you’re finally about to do something worthwhile – provide entertainment for deserving viewers and generate funding for AMS.  Our viewers will get a lot of pleasure masturbating or fucking a slave while they watch you die.  After that we’ll auction off your meat and you will even provide nourishment.


“But first, our viewers like to know a little about the guys they are watching get snuffed, so let’s find out a little bit about you.  What’s your name?”


The teen was too upset and scared to answer, and Duncan filled in the information.  “His name was Curtis.”


“OK, Curtis.  It’s nice to meet you.  Congratulations on your award and welcome to our award show.  Let me start by explaining how we’re helping you be a better snuff star.  We’ve injected you with a huge dose of capagon, a drug that will diminish the effect of system shock as you’re tortured and help you last longer during the festivities. You also got a massive dose of Viagra that will keep your cock hard no matter what.  That’s why you have an erection now even though there’s obviously a lot of adrenaline in your body.  The dosages are much greater than what’s safe, so even if we didn’t snuff you you’d die of a heart attack anyway in a day or so.  That also could be caused by the fact we stopped the drugs you’re addicted to and you’re starting to come off your high, which means you’ll suffer from withdrawal as well as from what Duncan is going to do to you.  We don’t want the drugs you are addicted to be a barrier to you feeling the pain we’re about to inflict.  In other words, you’re going to be dead in any event, and you’re going to die in agony, so why not make it fun for everyone?  We want this to be as horrible for you as possible, since that turns us on sexually a lot.  So does hearing you scream and beg.  Please keep doing a lot of that.  Speaking of being turned on, I see the Viagra is working especially well – that’s a nice hard-on you’ve got, although it isn’t a very big cock.  Have you been naked and hard in front of a camera before, with a bunch of guys eager to watch you die?”


Duncan and the Chief chuckled at William’s question, but Curtis just stared and begged.  So William continued.  “I guess not.  How about sex?  Have you had sex with other guys before?  Or will this be your first time having your ass fucked?”


This was something Curtis hadn’t considered.  He was straight, and very homophobic.  He shook his head as he again pleaded for mercy, now adding pleas not to rape him.


“Well guys,” William continued, smiling and turning to the camera.  “It looks like we get to introduce a straight guy to the joys of gay sex.  If it weren’t for us he probably would have passed on his pathetic genes.  This is such a great public service!  I doubt there’s anything else interesting about him, so I guess we should get the show going.  As you know, we always start with a little warm-up action, so Duncan and the Chief are going to double-fuck Curtis’s ass.  No point having him die a virgin and it will be even more fun now that we know he’s homophobic.  Ramming those two big dicks into a virgin ass is going to generate a whole lot of pain that will be fun to watch while we enjoy listening to his screams.”


The three men untied their victim and dragged him to a large mattress where he was positioned on top of the Chief, who lay on his back with his large, hard cock thrust up Curtis’s tight ass.  Curtis screamed and begged as he lost his “virginity” with waves of pain, but the sexual pressure on his prostate and the overdose of Viagra assured he responded nicely with his own small cock as hard as it could get.  Then the real fun began, as Duncan removed his jock strap and positioned himself so that he could also insert his cock into Curtis, which he rammed into place.  Curtis screamed wonderfully, and the two policemen took their time enjoying the outstanding bonding experience as their cocks rubbed against each other inside Curtis’s bleeding asshole.  Nor was William left out.  He joined the fucking with his massive cock inside Duncan, increasing the sexual intensity as Daron was turned on beyond anything he’d ever experienced before, double-fucking with his friend and mentor, having the honor of being fucked by the head of AMS, and, most of all, fucking an unwilling but gorgeous young straight guy he was about to torture and kill.  If joining AMS meant this much sexual pleasure, the fact he’d someday be the target of a snuff scene was more than worth it.  And while his preferences had always been extremely sadistic, there was an aspect of Duncan’s eventual fate he found appealing.  This surprised him, as did the pleasure of being fucked by William.  But the Chief assured him (over many drinks they had together following joint rapes of attractive males they had in their jail) that this didn’t undermine his sadistic nature, it just expanded it.


The camera crew did an outstanding job catching all the great action as the three men put on an amazing sex show for the AMS audience.  But this was just the beginning.  After that had each shot their load, it was time for Duncan’s “audition.”  He started by ramming an electrified dildo into Curtis’ bleeding asshole, then administering a large amount of electricity as he masturbated Curtis.  The straight boy was horrified at being used as a fag, but he had no choice.  He soon shot his final load of cum for everyone’s entertainment, crying in humiliation and pain as he did so, Duncan rubbed Curtis’s cum all over Curtis’s face, and while the fag-in-training complained about that too, Daron picked up a knife and slowly emasculated Curtis, cutting off his cock and feeding it to him, then cutting off his balls and offering one each to his two companions.  William and the Chief laughed at Curtis’ humiliation and agony, then enjoyed the treats as Duncan forced Curtis to chew and swallow his own cock.


The main focus of the snuff then demonstrated that Duncan had even more useful snuff skills.  He announced that he wanted a souvenir of the event and proceeded to skin Curtis alive.  He cut slowly and expertly, peeling off sections of beautiful young skin that would be turned into leather and become a very special leather outfit for Duncan to wear while he enjoyed S&M sex with other guys.  There would be an ability to open the crotch, so he could free up his cock, like the design of William’s leather pants, which like his entire outfit had been made from skin removed from a live slave.  But in Duncan’s case there would also be an ability to open the rear when it was Duncan’s turn to be fucked – a feature that did not apply to William.  William was Alpha 1 – he was always the top.


When Duncan had removed the skin, there was still opportunity to enjoy watching the effect of Duncan’s efforts, as Curtis was, amazingly, still alive.  It was a testament to Duncan’s skill at skinning live meat.  The final screams as the twink died were even more intense than those during the emasculation and skinning, and William, Duncan and the Chief each enjoyed another orgasm, as did all the AMS viewers.  Duncan’s audition was a huge success.  Curtis had finally added some value, an entertaining death, some delicious fresh meat, and a very profitable event for AMS.  William congratulated Duncan and again reminded the viewers of the upcoming initiation ceremony, the schedule of “live” snuff video sessions, and that they could enter bids for fresh meat from Curtis’s body that would be immediately butchered and flash-frozen for overnight delivery to AMS members or other viewers who wanted to buy cuts of straight-boy steak to bar-be-cue.  It would turn out to be one of their higher-rated snuff video events, including great DVD sales.  Duncan had done well.



Slave property ready for use and disposal


snuffslave 187 had performed his tasks exactly as directed.  He cleaned himself off in the shower after the long bus ride but kept the water ice cold as instructed.  That was followed by a meal of dog food and piss/cum, mixed together and served in the dog dish that was the only remaining dish or utensil in the condo.  He put the dish on the floor and ate doggy-style since he was now sub-human, still wearing the dog collar that was so appropriate for the occasion.  The meal had such an appropriate menu that 187 thoroughly enjoyed it.  He had quickly realized that piss and cum were the perfect liquids to temporarily keep him alive while reminding him of his snuffslave status.  The disgusting taste turned him on.


187 then focused 100% of his attention to disposing of his assets, which were considerable.  He called the company that owned the condo building and offered to sell his penthouse condo to them slightly below market if they could close the deal immediately for cash.  If they didn’t accept immediately he told them he’d put it on the market and they’d lose the increased value they could get for it if they marketed it themselves.  He knew it was a risk, since he only had a few days left to sell everything, but he was an outstanding negotiator on financial matters and knew they’d accept.  Given Silicon Valley housing prices and the exceptional quality and views of his condo, they did jump at the chance, and he did well, as he expected.  He drove his new Tesla to the nearby dealership and was also able to sell that on the spot, although there were awkward questions about his nudity and branding.  Fortunately this was Silicon Valley, they knew he was rich, and people with serious money were often eccentric and always permitted to do what they wanted.  His story about becoming a nudist with a gay S&M group in Key West worked again, and he made it through that experience.  The toughest part was the fact being exposed in public in his new status as a snuffslave turned him on and he got a hard-on while he talked to the handsome dealer even without the effect of any Viagra.  The dealer clearly was disgusted and didn’t approve of all this, but he saw a chance to get a good deal on the car and took it.  The car title had been part of the pile of instructions, so he was able to complete it on the spot.  187 was relieved that no one hassled him much as he walked naked back to the condo to finish the final transactions, again getting an election as people stared and laughed at him.  One guy pointed at this branding and asked if he was ready to get snuffed on the spot, but 187 just ignored him.  It wasn’t that he objected; it just wasn’t his decision to make.


William had simplified things for him a lot by taking his furniture and other possessions, so the only other task of note was to sell his investment portfolio, a process he had started immediately upon returning to the condo and getting his cell phone.  It required in-person notarized signatures and a three-day settlement period.  He got that done with a visit to his condo by his personal banker along with a notary form their office.  Investment banks are happy to visit high net worth customers, and the banker wanted a chance to talk him into keeping the account.  This was the only risky part, as the banker would want to know a reason, and needed a place to send the resulting tax forms.  It took all of 187’s persuasive abilities to make it through that discussion, but the fact the condo was now empty and 187 was naked and branded helped convince the banker there would be no change of mind.  187 had also arranged a PO Box in Key West through the internet so there was a place to send the forms.  No one would ever pick them up, and they would be destroyed when the box lapsed. (He’d only rented it for a month to save money, since it was now Master William’s money.)  There would be no trace or reason to investigate by the bank. In  trying to find the money to collect taxes the IRS would face a dead end. 187 laughed as he relished the irony of that phrase relating to him.  By the time the IRS took action 187 was pretty sure he would in fact be dead and his flesh eaten.


When he had been a person 187 had been a brilliant and sophisticated investor. He turned the insurance proceeds from his parents into a true fortune.  As part of that process he’d learned a lot about the bitcoin phenomenon, and he already had an account into which he deposited the proceeds of the car and the condo sales.  He had his banker set the stock settlement, so it would automatically be transferred to his bitcoin account.  Then he arranged for a second automatic transfer that would drain his account and send the bitcoin to his master and owner.  There would be no way to trace the transfers.  William would receive everything with total anonymity, tax free.  This pleased 187 greatly.  A master like William should be served and worshiped, not taxed.


Ironically, the most difficult transaction was the one with the least value, selling his cell phone.   There was a Verizon store on the way to the bus station and 187 stopped off there on his way.  The store was crowded, and he was hassled by the clerks and other customers for being naked.  His story didn’t matter there, and the clerk threatened to call the police, accusing 187 of having stolen the phone.  Fortunately, William had returned his driver’s license, which was needed for the car sale and also as proof for the notary required on the other sales.  So he had something.  But there was no way to prove that he owned the phone, since he had swiped it clean before setting out to the store.  He could not risk someone getting access to the recent transactions he’d used it to complete.  What saved him from having his careful plans derailed was one of the customers, an aggressive young millennial seeing a chance at a good deal, who offered 187 several hundred dollars for the phone if he also got a blow job out of the deal.  The money was well below its market value, but 187 saw no other option and took the offer.  (The blow job was not a problem for him and he enjoyed that part – even the follow-on pissing down his throat as the guy kept his hold on 187’s head after he shot his load of cum down his throat.)  As he walked the rest of the way to the bus station 187 used a bitcoin ATM in a convenience store (unheard of in most places but not uncommon in Silicon Valley) to add the proceeds to the balance in his account. He then borrowed a scissors and cut up his license.  As he dropped the pieces into a trash can, he reflected on that reality that he was no longer Cody or anyone else, and he did not own anything – even his own body.


As he got on the bus he realized he now possessed absolutely nothing.  It was an exciting and liberating thought.  The final transfer would happen as snuffslave 187 arrived at its master’s home to add its body – now just live meat to be used and disposed of – to the property its master now owned.  The lack of ID was proper.  187 was no longer a person.


187 arrived at William’s door as instructed, following a return naked bus ride that was similar in terms of the humiliation, use as a human urinal, and frequent rape, but different in terms of 187’s reaction.  He was now liberated from the burden of having possessions or even being human, comfortable in his new role as disposable property.  Of course people would humiliate him, laughing at him as they pissed down his throat, taking turns and comparing experiences as they used him sexually.  Hitting him in the balls and gut was a favorite for onlookers, just for the fun of it.  Taking off their belts and using them to whip his ass reflected what he was for, and there were no limits so long as it was OK with his master.  William’s training had been totally successful.  187 had thoroughly enjoyed the bus ride.


The snuffslave formerly known as Cody did have one surprise for his master, a very pleasant surprise.  As 187 stood at the door William was checking the alert he had gotten as to the bitcoin transfer. He was stunned but of course did not show it.  William was already wealthy, as befit the Alpha 1 of AMS.  After all, he inherited the assets of the males he snuffed.  But he was now very rich.  His bitcoin account had just received over $100 million.  He had no idea his new snuffslave had been so wealthy.  This would put AMS into a whole new league.  There would be no “thank you” or even comment on the gift, of course.  Instead, the torture session William began as he accepted snuffslave 187’s live meat was especially painful, focused on how little 187 had received for the cell phone.  William beat the slave especially savagely for failing to get full value for William’s property.  He had been watching his property closely and knew everything that went on.  187 gratefully thanked its master for the beatings, knowing they were well deserved.  Not that it mattered if they weren’t.


As William finished with the fucking and beating that would be 187’s new normal, and as 187 achieved an intense orgasm as he passed out from having his throat choked, they both knew there was nothing left of Cody the person.  There was only a sub-human snuffslave ready for use and disposal by its master.  William had given 187 permission to have an orgasm as it passed out, which was particularly entertaining and pleasurable for William, to the point he overlooked the fact it was also massively intense for the slave.  William made sure orgasms that added to William’s enjoyment of sex were the only physical pleasure the slave received.  William’s pleasure was all that mattered.



An instructive party


After 187 regained consciousness and licked up the liquids on the torture room floor, William reattached the slave collar and leash and led his property into a nearby living room area with a large screen TV.  William was joined by the Chief and Duncan, who had been invited by William to celebrate the completion of the DVD featuring Curtis receiving his Darwin Award and the completion of Duncan’s new leather outfit made from Curtis’ skin.  They planned to spend the evening watching the DVD and enjoying a torture & sex-filled party.  Some of Curtis’ meat had been prepared for them as appetizers to enjoy as they watched.  Besides enjoying the film himself, William thought it would be instructive for his new snuffslave to watch a real snuff.  It was, and it turned 187 on massively, imagining itself as Curtis.

When asked, 187 promised to be far more cooperative and appreciative when it was his turn to be killed.  Indeed, 187 secretly hoped they would use its skin to make some sort of leather clothing but knew that was too great an honor to ask and none of its business.  187 did get a special treat for his meal, however, in the form of part of Curtis’ raw intestines soaked in urine.  He was of course very grateful.


The Chief had brought one of his own house slaves, who he felt would also benefit from the lessons of the movie.  He was a mature, very fit slave named Norman.  The Chief was quite pleased with him, turned on by his meek attitude and sexual submissiveness.  At 5’10” he was easy for the much bigger chief to dominate, and the slave’s head was shaved to show respect, also making a nice contrast with the dark hair on its body, especially the impressive chest.  All this made Norman quite satisfying for the Chief to fuck, and especially to fist.  But it was time for Norman to learn more about AMS and formally accept his proper role.   Duncan had also brought a slave to serve him, a young prisoner he had enjoyed fucking and beating the previous night.  He had told the prisoner, who was gay, that if he serviced Duncan and his friends well he would be released from prison and the prisoner had agreed to the deal.


William was in an expansive mood, aided by a few celebratory drinks following his fun with 187, and he explained a lot about AMS to Duncan.  187 and Norman also listened, on their knees ready to service their masters as instructed.  The prisoner paid no attention, but knelt in front of Duncan, his hands tied behind his back.  The prisoner would serve as the evening’s live meat entrée in due course, the ultimate release from prison, but for now he was unaware and would service Duncan’s sexual desires as the three masters enjoyed themselves.


Besides the social aspects of the evening, William and the Chief wanted Duncan to appreciate how much of an honor it was to be a member of AMS, and they wanted their sex objects to realize the good fortune at being owned, used, and eventually killed by the top two leaders of this prestigious group.  William liked gratitude from his slaves, as he deserved.


“AMS, as you know, stands for the Art of Male Snuff.  It is an incredibly select group, and totally secret.  There are only 314 senior members at any time, but there are 700 regular members and several thousand snuffslaves who are the property of members.


“All AMS members are alpha males, each of whom is carefully selected and each of whom has strong sadistic traits.  Each also recognizes the beautiful artistry that can be achieved during a ceremony where a male gets snuffed, especially willingly, acknowledging this art is more important than the life of any member.  All members agree that this will be their fate someday in the future, and each is assigned by lottery a date by which that will happen – the member’s lapsing date.  The exceptions are the four top Alpha males – Alphas 1,2, 3, and 4.  As Alpha 1, I am the supreme leader.  I have absolute authority over everything and everyone.  Alphas 2, 3, and 4 each lead one of the three geographies of AMS – the Americas and Australia, Europe and Africa, and Asia.  The Chief, as Alpha 2, controls the Americas and Australia.  His role as police chief is just a hobby he enjoys, mostly for easy access to prisoners like this one and to spot potential recruits like Duncan.  None of us have assigned snuff dates, and each of the three regional leaders rules absolutely in his region, subject only to me.  We work together closely to coordinate events and enforce the rules.   Running AMS is my full-time responsibility and I take it very seriously.


“Even when scum like 187 and Norman were people they never could have joined as a member, since they were clearly not alpha males.  Fortunately for them members take live male meat as slaves, snuffslaves, keeping them for a period to serve us sexually and otherwise.  When we feel like it we use them in wonderfully creative snuff rituals.  We treat members with respect as we snuff them when their time lapses, celebrating their life and sacrifice.  The snuffslaves are targeted for the pain and humiliation these worthless pieces of shit deserve, so they don’t have lives worth celebrating.  We just dispose of them when we’re done using them.”


William kicked 187 hard in the balls with his steel-toed boots several times to emphasize his point, receiving thanks for doing so as 187’s cock got even harder.   The Chief did the same to Norman, who was a little surprised but did not complain.  When Duncan did the same the prisoner objected loudly, so Duncan kicked him again even harder.  All three went sprawling as the kicks continued, but the two trained slaves quickly thanked the masters as they struggled to regain their breath.  It was an amusing interlude as William continued his explanation.  The prisoner began to listen more closely to what was being said, now starting to be very afraid.  Duncan shackled his ankles together and restored him to his kneeling position with instructions to pay attention to Master William.  Duncan was seriously aroused as he listened, his cock nice and hard as it stuck out form his sexy new attire.  He thrust it into the prisoner’s mouth with orders to suck it.


“I’ve personally had 186 snuff slaves prior to this one, and I dispose of them as soon as they start to show the impact of the severe physical abuse they suffer – usually a couple of months.  I have a magnificent video library of their deaths.  Some alpha males keep their snuff slaves for long periods of time, even years, but I don’t enjoy the “whipped dog” mentality that creeps in after a period of being tortured and humiliated.  It’s not as much fun for me, which is of course the only relevant criterion.  It’s up to each AMS member, and I know the Chief has kept Norman for over ten years as a sort of manservant around his house as well as a sex object and urinal.  He fills his snuff desires through ceremonies like the Darwin Awards and parties like this one.  That’s his choice.”  The prisoner was now paying attention as instructed and was therefore now terrified.  His fear added to Duncan’s enjoyment as the cock-sucking continued.


The Chief interrupted.  “I’ve given thought to the comments you’ve made before on that topic, and I think you may be right.  I do think I kept this slave too long and have decided to snuff him at a special celebration in the next month or so.   I don’t regret keeping him so long since I’ve been using him for a psychological experiment, much like a lab rat but without any ethical limits, as well as a fun object to fist and fuck when he’s not taking care of his household duties.  He responds to fisting, one of my favorite sports, better than any slave I’ve had and he generates a huge load of cum when he’s permitted to do so – mostly, like 187, when I choke him into unconsciousness.  Ten years ago he was just a somewhat submissive fag I hired as a domestic servant.  He dind’t mind being fucked but he was hardly eager for it, let alone being fisted and drinking urine.  Now he is a total slave and remarkably eager to please me, especially by being snuffed.  The combination of psychological and drug experiments has been completely successful and he is a willing snuffslave.  Besides, my buddies and I have fisted him so often his ass isn’t very tight and he’s not as much fun to fuck anymore.  I checked with a vet about repairing him.   He’s not worth the effort given that he’s now 60 years old and should be snuffed anyway before he starts to look his age.  (Duncan was surprised, having assumed the fit slave was at least 10 years younger.)  I know you prefer snuffing younger meat like your current snuffslave, but I enjoy more mature slaves who have grown into their proper roles and ultimate use.  It’s time to make his status official, as I mentioned yesterday.”


William smiled and led the group to the annex where he did slave branding.  The coals were again red-hot and there were two branding irons.  The Chief took one and, while William and Duncan held Norman still, he shaved Norman’s chest and back and then branded Norman’s chest with “snuffslave 96.”  (The Chief had not had nearly as many snuffslaves as William.)  96 screamed but quickly recovered and expressed his deep appreciation for the clarification of his role and his commitment to please the Chief in every way he could through his upcoming death.  Duncan took the other branding iron and applied it to the prisoner, who was tied to the table after trying to resist and then branded “live meat” as he screamed, swore, and cried from the pain.  He had begun to understand what was happening and began to beg, reminding Duncan of the pledge to release him from prison.


“Don’t worry about that,” Duncan responded, laughing.  “I already signed and filed the release papers so you’re no longer a prisoner of the city.  But life is a prison, and what better release is there than being eaten alive after being tortured and fucked?  You’re as worthless as these other snuffslaves and you deserve a similar fate.  You’ll also provide nourishment along with the fun.”


The three masters had gotten horny form the movie and the conversation and went into the torture room for some fun with their sex objects.  But the conversation continued, and William and the Chief provided lots more information about AMS.


Duncan learned about the A-Team members, who were very senior members and the next level of leadership of AMS.  While they did have lapse dates, they were always many years in the future and William sometimes extended them.  They were the ones in charge day-to-day, and while some had jobs they were all jobs that advanced AMS.  A key aspect of AMS was obtaining snuffslaves and Darwin Award victims, and this was done by close relationships with police and other law enforcement groups worldwide.  Maintaining and enhancing those relationships is a primary task of the A-Team members, but also an important role for regular members.”


“A regular AMS member’s life expectancy is between 3 months and 10 years, although it is extended if they become senior members and then A-Team members.”  Duncan would start as a regular member, but quickly set a personal goal of becoming an A-Team member in due course.  He assured William and the Chief that being part of AMS was such an honor and so sexually exciting he was willing to risk being snuffed himself after only 3 months.  The Chief smiled at his protégé with pride.  Duncan was all in.


Duncan also learned about the idyllic Caribbean island AMS maintains for members to vacation and relax, called Alpha Paradise.  In addition to hundreds of AMS members vacationing there at any given time, there are about a thousand worthless Darwin Award candidates like Curtis brought in each month to be snuffed.  There’s a ceremony every night with members each getting at least one of the Darwin candidates to help snuff.  It’s a great bonding experience for members, especially as they wander through the cages and select live meat to enjoy at dinner as well as the day’s sex, torture and snuff targets.  Access to Alpha Paradise is one of the major perks for AMS members.  It makes a major contribution to reducing crimes worldwide while it’s export of “exotic” meat is highly profitable..


Duncan was equally turned on by the other AMS events, which are also wonderful releases for members’ sadistic alpha urges, and always include elegant banquets featuring the neat from the evening’s snuff targets.


“There are a large number of applicants to join since it’s an extraordinary experience and an appealing trade-off,” the Chief stressed as he pushed his fist further up 96’s ruined ass.  “AMS members are dominant, sadistic, versatile, alpha males. In exchange for a date-limited life expectancy, they get fulfilment of their darkest desires and a chance to live pleasant, fulfilling lives knowing they are part of an elite society that performs important public service. There are no limits on what we get to do to our victims.  The only obligation is a regular and rather intensive practice of fitness to provide the best body possible for the AMS ceremonies, whether as a torturer in a snuff scene or, at some point, as a victim who will also provide meat for the feast afterwards. “


William took over the instruction, pausing briefly from whipping 187 front and back as it hung suspended by its wrists from the ceiling.  “What really unites AMS is our cult of snuff.  We celebrate and embrace fucking, breeding, torturing, snuffing and being snuffed, and we view cannibalism as our right.  We own slaves and treat them as the property they are.  We also help cleanse society by accepting Darwin candidates from law enforcement and other sources worldwide.  We’re a major reason crime is dropping, since there are no repeat offenders once we take control of the animals.”


The evening was a huge success, with Duncan more excited than ever to join AMS, snuffslave 187 utterly overwhelmed by the honor of being owned and soon tortured to death by the Alpha 1 of the group, and snuffslave 96 realizing and utterly embracing his role, hoping his death would please the Chief and determined to help plan it so it would.  The three alpha males greatly enjoyed the sex and torture sessions and were careful as they cut into their dinner meat to keep it alive as long as possible in order to enjoy its pain and humiliation as well as its flesh.



The Disposal


While there are other occasions when new AMS members were tested and initiated, winter and summer solstice are the major celebration days for AMS, and Duncan was excited that the time had finally come.  He thought back over the wonderful evenings he’d enjoyed over the past several months and all that he had learned about AMS, especially grateful to the Chief for his attention and instruction.  He was more determined than ever to meet its standards and become a member.  Unlike many sadists, he even recognized that it would be fulfilling even when it was his turn to die.  He was especially fascinated by the enthusiasm of snuffslave 187, who was clearly deeply grateful for the chance to be a snuffslave.  He had discussed that feeling with the Chief over many drinks, and the Chief had assured him this would not be a barrier to Duncan’s ambitions.  It just broadened his perspective and made him an even more impressive candidate.


The initiation was held in a cavernous basement arena at William’s estate.  Duncan arrived exactly on time and was met by a hooded leather-clad doorman who directed him to a waiting room for the candidates, where he was instructed to strip naked and store his cherished leather clothing in one of the lockers.  The room was full of other applicants, nine in total, and Duncan was impressed with the variety of alpha males assembled.  They were of all ages, from late teens to early 50s, and they were from countries all over the world.  The nine had not only been selected as worthy candidates, but as worthy to be part of this important ceremony rather than just one of the regional initiations.  Among the things they had in common were exceptional bodies that were utterly fit.  The ones who were already naked and standing around seemed to have a reasonable idea of what AMS was, and Duncan began to interact with them. Three of the males were unconscious, each naked and tied to a cot.  Duncan remembered William’s description of applicants who were not told much, or anything, about AMS but had been contacted very recently by a member after being watched through their activities over the internet (especially the dark web) and in gay S&M bars and clubs.  AMS members checked them out thoroughly and concluded they would be good candidate.  Members would engage in conversations with them to verify their attitudes toward extreme male S&M, especially snuffing other males, and also their degree of alpha sadism.  Working out with them at a gym would verify their fitness levels were high enough to meet the AMS standards.  Sex scenes at gay S&M bars would verify their sexual dominance and performance.  If the answers were positive, the prospect was drugged and brought to the ceremony.  These three were lying on cots in the locker room until they recovered consciousness.  Duncan watched one of them, Horst, a candidate from Germany for the European zone, as he slowly awakened and fiercely demanded to know what was going on.  He erupted in anger about being stripped and tied to the cot, but it did him no good.  It did enable Duncan to admire his massive, exceptionally fit body.  This was clearly a major Alpha male.  Horst and the other two males tied naked to a cot would have to make their decision on the spot at initiation, assuming they passed the tests, while Duncan and the other 5 who were already awake and just waiting for things to start had already committed to AMS.

None of them knew what was next, or what tests they would have to pass. William had given Duncan no hint on that front to assure he had no advantage over other applicants.  Duncan admired the high ethics he’d seen form both William and the Chief.


Very shortly, the unsuspecting applicants recovered consciousness, with varying levels of understanding and memory of past conversations, but a consistent level of alpha male anger at not being in control.  Once everyone was awake several hooded assistants entered and released the three abducted candidates from their cots, telling them all their questions would soon be answered.  The lead assistant reminded them that they had all had conversations about torturing and snuffing other males, and they were going to have a chance to join a group that performed and celebrated that art form.  They weren’t satisfied at all with that, demonstrating their alpha status, but there was nothing they could do, and they were still a bit groggy.  Soon the memory of their conversations began to return, and they were all highly intrigued at what this prospective group might be.  Snuffing other guys sounded like fun.  Indeed, as Horst and the others began to remember the conversations, they started to have hard-ons.  By the time the nine candidates left the locker room each had a sizeable erection from the thoughts of what was going on and the prospect of snuffing other males.  It was a good group of candidates that was starting to bond.


The hooded assistants led the group to a shower room where they each endured an ice-cold shower and an enema.  They were given a steel cock ring and a necklace with a number from 1 to 9.  They were also ordered to swallow a Captagon pill.  Duncan was very familiar with the drug, which is widely used by warriors to raise endurance and reduce system shock in battle, and also has a positive impact on male sexual aggression and performance.  It is commonly given to suicide jihad fighters but is a highly useful drug for AMS to enhance the ability of snuff victims to endure greater levels of pain as well as the aggression of those doing the killing.  It was a reminder to the 9 candidates that not all of them would survive initiation.  That made their erections even harder.


After the preparation, all the candidates were led to the main arena, where William was presiding with each of the regional Alphas who reported to him by his side.  They were on a stage in front of an audience of fellow AMS members, and there were many others watching on video.  The room was brightly lit so everyone could enjoy the ceremony, and there was a wide range of equipment of various sorts on the stage, most of it oriented toward torturing and killing males.  There were also several large tubs for disposal of body parts that would soon be separated from males being snuffed but weren’t good enough cuts of meat for dining.  These would be fed to snuffslaves to remind them of their fate.


William began with a short but complete explanation of AMS, which did answer all the questions the candidates had.  Their reaction was clearly demonstrated by the eager looks on their faces, their rapt attention, and the massive erections each of them had.


Next, the candidates went one after the other in front of a camera.  Facing it, they said their name, age, and country, and then declared that they were ready to face the initiation process whatever the conclusion, and willingly accept the dedication of their life to the Art of Male Snuff Organization.  Any doubts were gone, and they were all totally committed, including the three just introduced to the organization.


After receiving their oaths William did not turn immediately to the candidates.  He first summoned snuffslave 187 to the stage.  187 crawled up on all fours, its cock seriously hard.  187 was well aware it was about to die a humiliating and pain-filled death for the entertainment of its master and the other AMS members, but unaware how it would happen.  The “how” was irrelevant to 187 and obviously none of its business.  But 187 was honored and totally turned on no matter what, determined to cooperate in every way.  After all, this was its purpose and the death would be enjoyed by a huge number of deserving alpha males.  What more could any snuffslave wish for?


“As you all know, many of us own snuffslaves that are disposable property we keep alive for a time for our pleasure.  That always includes the fun of torturing them, to death, and a property trained snuff slave such as this one understands this is its highest and best use and welcomes the honor of complete service.  I have already made this sex object available for each of you to fuck as you arrived and during the cocktail reception we just finished while we waited for the applicants to be prepared.  I was pleased to note that so many of you took that opportunity, but there wasn’t time for all 150 of you to do so.  You’ll have another chance shortly.  But its next use is to entertain us with what should be a very painful and amusing snuff.  We will start our official ceremony with a demonstration of just how much fun a snuffslave is and how that fun can be enhanced with the aid of some of our torture toys.  We’ll also  show you what amazing progress we’ve made in being able to train worthless scumbags to realize that becoming a snuffslave is their proper role and to embrace it.  This live meat naturally realized its proper role, but not very many do.  That has been a serious limitation on availability of snuffslaves for our members.  But now, as a result of some outstanding research led by Alpha 2, we are adding a product line of trained snuffslaves for sale to members.  You can examine and enjoy our first batch for free during and after the ceremony.  They are lined up naked along the side of the chamber eagerly waiting for you to torture and snuff them, one for each AMS member here in the arena.  Feel free to choose one to entertain you as you watch.  Another set is ready to be the meat at our feast, eaten while still alive.  So feel free to torture and damage your snuffslave any way you like and then we’ll butcher and freeze the meat for you to take home and enjoy later.  I think it will be our best feast ever and our video catalog of snuffslaves for sale will go live right after our sessions.”  There was a loud cheer and a mad scramble to select a snuffslave, but William nonetheless continued.


“We also want to feature one of our new torture toys, the “fatal fist fuck enabler.”  It’s a lot of fun and makes fisting a snuffslave even more painful for the meat.


“Also, as you know we don’t waste fresh meat, and as we kill this snuffslave (and others) during the course of events today we will slice off the high-quality meat and serve it to our audience here in the AMS Arena.  You can use the computer tablets at your seats to select a piece that appeals to you and it will be brought to you.  Be sure to indicate if you want it cooked or raw.  We’ve set up the room with large couches to make it more comfortable and to facilitate you enjoying the snuffslaves and each other during the ceremonies.  Or feel free to examine the carcasses as they’re laid out near the stage and slice off your choice cuts yourself.  After all, today is all about sex and snuff and we want everyone to have a great time and shoot lots of cum.”  The audience again cheered loudly in appreciation.


Snuffslave 187 was now on stage, kneeling at its master’s feet with head bowed in a kowtow position.  William placed a noose around its neck, tightened it, and guided 187 to a table where it was positioned on its back with its ankles lifted and attached to shackles lowered rom above.  William took off his leather jacket to reveal his amazing torso and his powerful arms.  But he still wore a leather harness that was embroidered with “ALPHA 1” – as if anyone would forget his status!  He held up a “glove” and slid the fingers of his right hand into it. As he closed them into a fist the audience could see that the glove was designed to extend his reach with a very sharp, carefully designed metal knife.


“One of the frustrating aspects of fisting a snuffslave is that the animal’s innards get in the way of our fists as we push into the asshole.  Even the most talented fisters can’t get past their elbows before there is too much meat in the way to go further.  That not only limits our fun but it means the meat survives the session, which of course it does not deserve to do.  This clever device solves both problems.  As you can see, the knife part rotates, which is motorized.”  William demonstrated by pressing his index finger on a button inside the glove, which caused the knife to rotate, revealing that it was in effect a drill.  The audience applauded, and William also held it so that 187 could contemplate what was about to happen to it.


William pushed his hand into 187’s exposed and well lubricated hole, using his great strength to reach up to his wrist.  187 had been fisted many times, so this was not a new feeling.  But as William continued to push, now moving in and out with his lower arm, the pain grew exponentially.  187 screamed loudly as William activated the drill function and now continued to push in past his elbow.  He could barely be heard above the shrill screams as he added commentary for the cheering onlookers.


“I’m now into the lower belly, moving up the body internally past the intestines.  The drill is now starting to chew up the internal organs.  Given all the nerve endings I’m cutting through, our researchers think this is likely the single most painful torture we can inflict on a snuffslave.  Best of all, that pain wi9ll continue even after I remove my arm, but the animal will not die right away.  These wounds are fatal, of course, but it will be several hours before the internal bleeding results in its death.  Several hours of remarkable levels of pain.”  As he finished his explanation, William had inserted his arm all the way to his shoulder.  He grinned in triumph and spit into 187’s screaming mouth.  After he slowly removed his arm he bowed to the audience, who gave him a standing ovation for his fantastic exhibition.  187 fainted from the pain but was quickly revived.  Not only was he to endure the pain that would soon kill him, but he was to suffer other torture that would also be fatal and would be the immediate cause of his destruction.


187 was then placed on a mattress where two especially well-endowed AMS members waited with cocks ready for action.  The one with the larger cock lay on his back and 187, as instructed,  positioned itself on top of the larger male, who thrust his cock up 187’s already bleeding asshole.   After the fisting, there was plenty of room, as William observed to the amusement of the audience.   He inserted a dildo to create a tighter fit for the cock already inserted.  Then William approached the snuffslave and added his own massive cock to start a triple-fuck. After the 30 plus fucks and the fatal fisting 187 had just received, this was now the only way for alphas to enjoy a nice tight fuck.  The two males fucking 187 continued the snuff by thrusting in and out with considerable pleasure, while inflicting even more pain on the snuffslave.  The third alpha then knelt above 187’s head and fucked its face while his own ass was positioned so it nearly suffocated the snuffslave.


William resumed his commentary.  “We often enjoy feeling the snuffslave achieve a final orgasm as it dies, which accentuates our pleasure as we cum.  But we also enjoy well-prepared cock-and-balls snacks.  I plan to enjoy both.  The cock and balls will be cooked and eaten while they are still attached to the body.”


As he continued to fuck 187’s hole, William was handed several implements, including a long metal skewer that he pushed into 187’s piss/cum slit.  The thrill of being so horribly used by its master had turned on the snuffslave even more, enabling it to maintain its erection despite the pain.  The skewer went far into the hard cock well past its base, adding a new source of pain (and amusement) and assuring the cock would stay erect as it was prepared.  Next, two other metal skewers were inserted, one into each testicle.  William was then handed an electric probe attached to a 120-volt circuit.  To demonstrate how it worked, he touched the probe to 187’s left nipple, then to its right one. The screams of pain were again amazingly intense, and the nipples were literally burned off as the audience laughed.  William then rotated the probe among the three metal skewers, bit by painful bit cooking 187’s genitals. The electricity was rapidly switched on and off to increase the “shock” impact and to slow down the cooking.  A favorite part of the scene was the fact the “shocks” caused 187’s body to convulse as the electricity ran through it, rising in the air and challenging the skill of the three males fucking it.  But they managed to keep their cocks inserted in the meat as they fucked it.  The crowd cheered, clapped, and laughed as the alphas performed the equivalent of a “bucking bull” on and in the gyrating animal.


The precision of the effort was so expert that it was fully 15 minutes before the cock and balls were fully (and perfectly) cooked and ready to be eaten.  To the further delight and amusement of the crowd 187’s screams were loud and extreme, intensifying to the extent they didn’t even sound human.  After all, as William pointed out, 187 was no longer really human – just live meat being processed.  The crowd went nuts with cheering, laughter, and sexual excitement.  They released some of the excitement by, in turn, torturing the snuffslaves they had been provided for just that purpose.


As the wonderful smell of cooking male flesh fueled William’s lust, he and his fuck-mate intensified their thrusts into 187’s ass, also thereby intensifying the pressure on its prostate.  As a result, and despite the fact its cock and balls were no longer functional, 187 released the largest load of cum it had ever shot, with the thick creamy liquid working its way along the skewer in its cock to leak out the impaled slit. The skewer held the cock erect, and the liquid added to the pain form the electricity.  As the cum gushed out William slowly cut the cock off at the base, using the skewer to hold the cock while he ate it, much like a corn dog at a county fair.  It was delicious, all the more enjoyable due to the incredible pain 187 was suffering.  The two skewers cooking the balls came out next, again cut very slowly to maximize the pain and the entertainment.  Being always the generous leader, William handed one each to his two colleagues, who also greatly enjoyed the well-cooked slave-meat treats.  187 was delirious with pain, but not so much so that he failed to mumble an effort at “thank you.”  Although that was barely discernable due to the pain and the thick cock in its mouth, it generated further laughter.  187 knew its death was near, yet was overwhelmed with gratitude for how it had been used and for the honor of having its cock eaten by its master.


It was time for the final stokes, and as the alpha fucking 187’s throat increased his thrusts in order to achieve his own climax William moved onto 187’s chest and very slowly slit its throat, continuing until he had completely beheaded the snuffslave.  The head fell into the hands of the alpha fucking it, who shot his load down its throat as it came loose..  William took the head and held it up to the audience as the remainder of 187’s body continued to entertain the audience with its dying gyrations.


“While this snuffslave is now just snuffed meat, it can still be useful even beyond providing us nourishment.  Feel free to fuck the body, either in the ass or the neck.  We’ll leave in the dildo to help make the asshole tighter.  I think those of you who haven’t fucked a fresh-killed snuffslave will be surprised how much fun it is to fuck either end, or both, while the body is still warm.  I think it’s the ultimate humiliation for a snuffslave and so well deserved.  And we’ll pass the head around so those of you who didn’t get a chance to fuck it during the reception can enjoy doing so now.  I think you’ll find that is also remarkably satisfying.”


As the audience cheered, the severed head became quickly popular.  For example, Paul and Xavier were two AMS members who had recently met and were enjoying their new snuffslaves when someone passed it to them.  When Xavier held it up he was startled.


“Wow.  I think I knew this when it was human.  He had a beard then, but I think it’s the same guy.”


“Really?  Was he a buddy?”


“Hardly.  He was a decent fuck, and fun to fist, but I always thought he was an asshole.  This is going to be fun.”  With that, Xavier started eagerly fucking what was now just a masturbation  toy.


“What was his name?”


“I’m not sure I remember.  Colt, maybe?  Or Casey?  Something like that.  It obviously doesn’t matter now, if it ever did.  It was just a snuffslave.  They don’t have names.”


Xavier shot his load into 187, having used both the neck and the mouth to assure a fun jerk-off.  “Go ahead and take a turn – it’s really satisfying and fun to listen to all the cum sloshing inside it.  I’m going to go fuck his dead ass.  William’s right, as always.  That’s also a lot of fun.”


So Paul also added cum to the sex toy and passed it to the next alpha.  The two buddies then headed to the stage, turned on by the sight of the headless, dickless, and lifeless snuffslave, its neck still spewing some of its body fluids while its ass leaked out the cum with which it had been so thoroughly filled.  The animal had once been quite sexy, and in its pathetic destruction it somehow remained so.  They enjoyed fucking both holes of the warm piece of meat that had once been named Cody. Xavier observed that it confirmed the fact it’s best use was as the asshole it had been. Then they helped themselves to a couple of slices of the meat itself.   As the butchers came on stage and sliced off the rest of the meat and tossed the other remains into the large tubs, snuffslave 187 was quickly and completely forgotten.





The audience cheered again when William regained their attention.  He was an extremely popular leader who knew how to please his members. But now it was time for the official ceremony.


William signaled for the room to be darkened.  There were 9 spotlights, each focused on one of the candidates, who were instructed to take a position under one of the lights with legs apart, hands behind the back, cock hard, totally still, and looking straight forward.  William asked if they were ready for the initiation to start, and they all

answered a loud YES !


At that same moment 9 more beams of lights were turned on revealing 9 impressive males each facing one of the candidates.  They were existing members who had applied to become part of the A-Team. Each was bare-chested except for a dog tag and a leather harness, wearing impressive tight leather pants open at the crotch to reveal their huge hard cocks.


For the membership candidates, after William’s display of the art by snuffing 187, AMS was no longer a concept or a fantasy. It was now reality, right in front of them, consisting of imposing slabs of male studs who were a mirror of what they could become.


After 5 minutes of standing still during which the men could face and contemplate each other’s perfect pack of meat under the sharp beam of light, William broke the silence once again, first addressing the A- Team applicants.


“You willingly offered your lives to the Cult of Snuff. You will now honor our four values:  Self-denial, Performance, Obedience, and Commitment”


The lights in the arena switched on as William spoke.  “I want the A-Team applicants, who are already members, to set an example and show how true AMS members exhibit these values.”


The A-Team applicants knew the drill and  closed their eyes.  Each took a ball from a deep jar presented by one of the assistants.  There was a moment of suspense and silence after the last one had taken his ball and William ordered: “SHOW”


Each applicant revealed the ball in his hand, boldly, with no expression on his face.


The time of the man with the black ball in his hand expired. He was a big slab of prime beef (6’8”, 280 lbs.) with a thick black beard and a furry chest much like William’s.


A107 (the ID that was tattooed on his left pectoral) rapidly took off his harness, his dog tag (the original lapsing day would have been over six years later), his leather pants and boots, and his cock ring.  He then stood at attention in front of William, totally naked with his cock still quite erect.  William handed  him a 6-inch sharp dagger.


“THANK YOU, SIR,! No mercy for my body! Take my soul , Finish me the hard way!“


With no hesitation he gutted himself just above his cock, expanding the wound upward, seppuku style.   Then he cut around the base of his scrotum, which enabled him to grab his cock and balls and pull out some of his intestines before falling to his knees, still fully conscious but in extraordinary pain to the extent he could not proceed further in the task of destroying himself.  A15 and A46, the applicants who had been standing on either side of A107 rushed next to him, slammed him onto his back.  They then took turns pulling out the rest of his intestines, positioning the dying body so each of the other six members could participate in cutting or stabbing some key part of him to advance the snuff.  It was an excellent example of exceptional teamwork


A91 spread his legs open and cut off his balls and cock, presenting them to William, who handed the thick cock and the large balls to a taxidermist who would turn them into a  trophy William could add to his collection.  A128 and A35 each took an axe and, with a loud shout, cut off his legs, as blood started to spill abundantly on the tiled floor.  A66 and A72  removed the arms near the shoulder sockets. A107 screamed in excruciating pain,  A104 opened the belly wound up to the chest and removed most of the internal organs.  But it was William who reached into the chest cavity and pushed his hand upward to where he squeezed the heart and ripped it out, still beating.  A107 was now dead, surviving far longer than would be possible were it not for the drug he and the other AMS participants had taken that day.  He had become a destroyed mass of bleeding meat.  William impaled the heart onto a nearby spike, and then cut off the head and placed it at the top of the spike.  The head and the heart would be

reminders of the AMS value of obedience.


It took 10 minutes only. Minutes of torment made more entertaining by the desperate screams of  A107 as he and his fellow applicants  demolished his body.  Most of the audiences both in the arena and watching on video enjoyed a massive orgasm as they watched, which is a major goal of any male snuff.  The difference in the audiences was that those in the arena could now enjoy the fresh meat that had been A107.


The 8 remaining A-Team applicants  returned  to their spot facing the membership candidates, having just modeled expected AMS member behavior.  William was very pleased.


“You have all performed as you are required to perform, including A107, who died with honor.  We celebrate his life and his death as we dine on his meat.  Also, all of you showed excellent teamwork, which is key for A-Team members.  We have already examined your qualifications and determined each of you merits the promotion.  This was your final test, and you have passed.  Congratulations and welcome to the A-Team ranks.”  The audience cheered, and the newly promoted members bowed respectfully to William.


The first formal event was now concluded,

The 9 candidates under their bright beam of light became the focal point for the second part of the ceremony, which would be the final selection of new AMS members.  They, too, had been pre-screened and the four Alpha AMS leaders had determined who was worthy.  Eight of the nine had passed.


Each AMS candidate was given a frozen cum cube to suck and swallow as William announced the event.


“Cum is the source of life and death.”  Life for 8 of you, sudden death for one.  Suck and swallow this precious gift.”


The candidates obeyed, and minutes after the last candidate had swallowed the last drop, Boris, a bulky Russian, started to convulse in the middle of the room. The doomed male’s final moments started with  5 minutes of intense pain as he fell to the floor, his body gyrating wildly with the agony. While he was still alive several assistants cut into him to open bleeding wounds, and the naked body was tossed into a pit where hungry dogs ripped him apart and ate his flesh.  Boris had not been found worthy to join.  The message of this tradition, as William explained, was a simple illustration of how some males are so worthless they are best used for dog food.  There would be no celebration of Boris, who was an alpha male but had been deemed weak.  The tradition also illustrated AMS’s casual attitude toward death.


William next went to a wheel and spun it., The number it landed on  (between 1 and 7) would determine how many more candidates would be snuffed  during the ceremony.


The wheel of death stopped: three more candidates where to be killed.  All 8 were now members, but the lesson was that a member’s fate was subject to rules of chance.  The candidates had all assumed the risk when they pledged their oath of loyalty.


In order to determine which candidates would die, a vote was launched electronically among AMS members both in the arena and online. The candidates were also permitted to vote, since they were all now considered AMS members even though three of them would soon die. A dashboard showed the progression of the votes and the score of each of the 8. It quickly became clear that Milom, a Romanian with an exquisitely beautiful body that cried out to be snuffed, and Horst, the imposing German who would provide such a generous helping of prime male meat, would be the top  two “winners,” followed by Duncan.


William directed the three to take places on the stage, each lying on his back on a table with cameras positioned to capture all the action.  They were not restrained.  There was no need for that since they knew and accepted their fate.


“I welcome all eight of our new AMS members and congratulate the 5 who will survive and join us for our celebration banquet.  This is always such an inspiring ceremony and it has gone well.


“As you all know, I have all power and no limits.  I rigged the vote so that Duncan will be one of the new members who will be killed today.  Chief Nelson and I have enjoyed his body many times and we have lusted over the idea of destroying it during this ceremony.  The 5 surviving members are to focus on the other two animals while he and I carry out our sadistic sniff desires on Duncan.  In addition to this being my right as Alpha 1, it is also the case that he is the perfect specimen to be an AMS member who is snuffed.  Duncan has been a subject of the Chief’s experiments that I referred to earlier.  He unknowingly went through the same transformative conditioning that the new snuffslaves eagerly waiting to be tortured and consumed alive during our feast went through.  But Duncan started as a total dominant sadist, an alpha male like the rest of us.  He is now also a willing masochist, suitable as a snuffslave.  He simultaneously has both characteristics, seeking both to inflict pain on others and to suffer it himself.  Isn’t that correct Duncan?”


Duncan had been in shock form the announcement but paused and thought.  What William said was true.  He realized he was now more turned on by the idea of being snuffed than by doing the kill, although he was excited by both activities.  He related to the dead bodies at least as much as to himself snuffing the live ones, especially the two snuff-ready new members lying on tables next to him.


“Yes, sir.  I now realize you are correct, and I am anxious to die as if I were a snuffslave.  I also now understand the messages the Chief was sending me, and suspect he added drugs to my drinks.  I admire how clever and talented he has been with all this. Thank you for allowing me to reakuze my alternate status and for the honor of being killed by you and the Chief in this marvelous ceremony.  My conditioning proves how effective your treatments are.  Turning an alpha sadist like me into a snuffslave will be an ability that means AMS can convert any piece-of-shit male into a useful, obedient slave anxious to be snuffed.”


William smiled and explained how this project not only meant a supply of snuffslaves would soon be plentifully available, but also that AMS members could now choose whether to become masochists who would better appreciate and enjoy their snuff when it was their turn, or remain pure sadists who might be tempted to resist.  It was one more way he sought to assure the members lived and died fulfilling lives.  As that reality sunk into the audience, he turned to the 5 successful candidates.


“Men, FREE your sexual lust and twisted libido on these two SACRIFICIAL OFFERINGS. Show us your primitive instincts. You have 60 minutes!  The only rule is that they are not to die before the time is up.  You will find all kinds of helpful and amusing tools on the nearby tables.”


The 5 eager new members quickly surveyed the tools available for them and were very pleased.  There was all manner of knives, huge dildos with sharp edges to cut into the sides of the assholes, , cattle prods, axes and cleavers, hammers, saws, and electric prods with a wide range of current levels.  The next 60 minutes was a masterpiece of the art of male snuff, and all three males were horribly tortured but still alive (albeit barely) when the time was up.  That allowed the cameras to catch the death throws of each animal as it then died, having endured levels of pain that were beyond measure and only possible due to the drugs injected into each of them.  Duncan was appropriately grateful, and both William and the Chief fulfilled their sadistic lust – and then some, on a willing subject.


William closed with comments celebrating the three snuffed new members.  There was of course no celebration of the snuffslaves.  Then the AMS members in the arena started a celebratory meal featuring not just the meat from the males snuffed that day but lots of live meat from the newly conditioned snuffslaves.  And, of course, there were other, unwilling Darwin Award nominees available just for members to enjoy and practice the Art of Male Snuff.  The ceremony was a total success and William was extremely pleased and sexually satisfied.  That, after all, is what mattered.

Sludge by Petr-Johan


I knelt down, dipped my hand in the usually crystal clear stream and…watched it disappear before it even got to my wrist. “Yep, certainly is. Sludge.”

Jack and I stood there looking stupid in chest high waders, carrying our fishing tackle, a cooler that floated and was attached to a strap holding up his wader, poles, bait buckets….everything for a first class day of fly fishing in gin clear, cold, fast rushing water. Not Sludge.

“That shit would rot anything, fuck knows what’s in it…you better find a wet wipe and clean your hand before that accidentally becomes the only trophy we fish out of the river” and tried to laugh but it didn’t work.


It was the ten day long, plus travel time, yearly, two guys fishing/fucking trip. As sacrosanct a date on the Calendar as the Fourth of July or Christmas and just as unmovable, this was the time, we’d been building to it, tying flies to take, trying out every bit of equipment we had, buying new, all the gadgets, tents, water purifiers……All the crap stowed in it, Jack’s new Pick Up looked more like it was off to save a trapped group of settlers crossing the mountains than it did two guys going fishing. But not this year. “Well, fuck.” We stared at each other the question, “What now?” loomed in the air but with no apparent answer so it stayed unasked.

“Maybe, if we wait a day or two….”

“Or until after winter and the snow melt cleans all this muck out. Or two seasons until the fish no longer know it’s a great place to die of suffocation in their own element or….”

You have heard about being up a creek?…With a partner?


I started to unhitch my waders which, when not surrounded by chilled water were hot, difficult to move in and, just now, pointless as a Halloween costume at an Easter Egg Roll. He joined me and shortly, looking just as stupid, we were standing there in our thermal underwear, heavy socks and the sneakers we wore inside the waders.

“Lets get drunk.”

And so we did.

So drunk we couldn’t even fuck each other which was the other main reason for the fishing trip; As any man knows-well, any man who fucks men-fucking in the great out of doors, filled with the scent of pines, fresh air and, eventually, sperm, is terrific. On more than one occasion to combine the two adventures, we’d fucked each other using a just caught fish. (The wiggle in your ass is unlike the gyrations of a cock plus there’s the chill factor.)


The next morning each of our hangovers was of such epic proportions that dunking our heads in the sludge didn’t seem an altogether bad idea, hell, there might have been something curative in it, who knew? Jack’s hands shook as he fired up the propane stove on which coffee could be made and, from past sins, we also each had a warm beer, drunk straight down, that helped. A little. But that still left us with most of eight days to kill; We’d never planned on anything except fishing, more fishing, cleaning the fish, cooking the fish, catching more; Then we’d fuck each other as preparation for a night of the sort of sex we’d found we enjoyed which was rough, fun, without rancor and ended happily with everyone getting what they wanted from the other. Following which we’d take a plunge in the cold water, run back to the over sized tent, dry down and snuggle into our two man sleeping bag. A good time was had by all. But, make no mistake, fishing was the nexus that held all the ancillary activities together and, looking at “our creek”, fishing for anything wasn’t an option. Although, from the day before, there had been some slight though perceptible changes; It now looked less a tormented black and brown but had what seemed to be bearing pustules of exploding gas that seemed to sigh as it oozed its way past our great campsite by the beautiful mountains with the bright sun shining down.


“You bring anything to read?”

“Sure, ‘Huckleberry Finn’..are you nuts? ‘Course not. You?”

“Uh, no, just asked.” I tied the stems of two dandelions and tried to remember how to make a kazoo from weeds.

Jack got up, headed for the tent to sleep off what was left of his hangover. “Wake me if the Pope drops by to bless the fishing fleet….” and disappeared.


Boredom, if you let it, can swamp you with the sort of ennui that prevents action of any sort, you know there’s nothing to do so you give in to doing nothing, save complain about the boredom and there’s the leitmotif for what might be days. I’m a restless soul who falls to stall walking in a slow elevator and the usual instigator of things to do borne from my fear of being bored. Not infrequently this has led to friends and family saying things such as, “For God’s sake Bill, we don’t want to play charades, go on a snipe hunt, look for four leaf clovers, play strip anything or go on a walking tour of our own city block. Shut up, sit down or go away and play with yourself.” They meant it kindly if not literally although having been encouraged to “play with myself”, I retreated to someplace private and did so; At least it killed time pleasantly and I wasn’t bored.


Knowing the keys were in the truck, I got in, turned it on, did a U turn then headed back down the road we’d used coming in; It was the same one we always used, to the same camp we always made. One of the ranchers was kind enough to lease about two hundred yards of stream to us, both sides, which gave us privacy and a good shot at what ever might swim by.


Nothing is more depressing to a fisherman than to be taken to a “secret place” that only your “good buddy’s friend knows about” to find everyone’s good buddy’s friend seems to know about it and, for some dumb reason, there are three hundred guys in a patch of water only somewhat larger than a suburban back yard each trying to “catch a fish”. Need I tell you what they usually caught, and painfully, was each other? I thought not. The rancher did us no favors in terms of price but he did guarantee exclusivity 365, 24/7, even posted it with our initials and some grim wording about what might happen to you if you were found on that piece of property but were not us. The sign was even illustrated with a picture, with remarkable detail, of a man hung from a line which also had fish on it. Also illustrated were the genitals of said person, marked for removal and…whatever happened next. If you didn’t get the idea from the words, the picture should have sealed your decision to turn back; Some things can be seen as ‘gags’, humor, the sort of sign one might by as an amusing gift for anglers; This was in no way one of those.


My thought was to drive up to the ranch house, say “Howdy” and pick the owner’s mind for suggestions. Or anyone who was there and had an idea. Somewhere in the back of my mind my too fertile imagination suddenly focused on a day or two horseback ride to…somewhere, maybe somewhere with fish and no sludge. Given the down pours that had caused the fouling of our creek, and all other running water for miles around, that didn’t seem likely but, ever the budding tour director, it was worth asking. ‘Sides, a few days camping, horses, maybe find a pond that didn’t look like Hershey’s syrup….worked for me. Jack…would probably just want to see if it was true about butt fucking a horse……


Poker Flatz was a retired radio cowboy who, when radio went away, so did he. The name, really Bud Venville, was forgotten but Poker Flatz stuck as a good, memorable handle. As opposed to many “cowboy” stars he came by his country roots honestly and, while he was yodeling for cash, he was buying property, someone slipped him the name “Haloid” now better known as Xerox. Must have been pushing 80, or more, but was still spry, interested and interesting so my visits to him were anticipated by both of us although Jack saw him as a doddering old fool who remembered the past constantly and didn’t know where they were biting, his only interest. He was only too happy to have me go off to visit while he unsnarled leader, made adjustments with a ball peen hammer to a spoon or retied a fly. In his mind, if you were going fishing, you went fishing or did things that related to fishing; end of story. Oh, and of course, fucking me and getting drunk were also a part of “fishing”, sometimes, when “they” weren’t biting, a big part.


Poker, happy as always to see me, invited me in, offered coffee, food, a comfortable chair-he liked to have someone to talk to and as listening audiences go, I was the deluxe model. He looked at me sternly, went to the fridge and got a beer which he opened and handed to me.

“Does it show that badly?”

“Nah, only us old sinners could spot it. Bet you didn’t even get fucked, didcha?”

I peeked out from behind the bottle, signaled that another one would be good, and nodded “no”.


“Sorry about the crick, son, I thought on callin’ you but thought, well, shee-it, theys a gonna come on and tellin’ em they ain’t nothing to catch, well, just didn’t seem right. Course, it didn’t seem right not tellin’ you either….You know, a damned if you do, damned if you don’t sitchiation….Hey, that’s some rig you drove up in, mind if I take a look….been thinkin’ about tradin’ in that rickety ol piece a shit I been drivin’ forever…..”


In other words, he’s looked forward to a visit and knew he could talk about cars to me as I knew absolutely nothing about them but found his way of describing them endearing which made what he had to say important to hear.


His was a classic 1946 Chevrolet six cylinder pickup that was in cherry condition. Collectors everywhere wanted it, Jay Leno had come all the way just to look at it with an eye to purchase. No sale. Poker’s ranch hands had to laugh; He went to bed early and didn’t know or care who Leno was just said he thought he needed a chop job on his nose and chin. Nice guy, wondered why he came all this way?


What Leno thought isn’t known. What was known was that the truck would be sold only after he was dead and maybe not then cuz he’d said, a few times, he was, “thinkin’ on bein’ buried in it”. Some might have laughed at that idea but I did not; For all his breezy sometimes foolish seeming ways, he was a country gentleman who did keep his word, was a good guy and did more than most to “hep the other feller out”; Just now I was the other ‘feller’ and I needed ‘hep’.


Perhaps this is a good moment to put in a word for older men and what they supposedly can’t do, fucking being one of them. Poker was nicely equipped and, best of all, I have never known a man who could get it that hard and keep in that way for as long as he could. Not only was he a world class fucker but he never shut up while he took you, just changed the dialogue from whatever was being discussed to his own version of ‘talkin’ dirty to ya”. And it was. Somewhere in him must have been a latent sadistic streak for once he had you down, and I gave in with no fight, his cock turned from a prime piece of man meat to a well honed stiletto with which he fully intended to carve up ‘yer innards an’ have ‘em fer my breakfast”. If you survived, you could have ‘a mess’ of yours, too. Laying under Poker, if that’s how he chose to take you, you forgot this was an old man but rather that you’d wandered into the field where the bull was kept and were now paying the price for not running faster; He was that good and that hung.


As most people in the country are he was something of a snoop, a fact we’d found out one visit when, on arrival, ten feet out from the bank, there was a large, red hollow bobber apparently attached to the bed of the stream; In it were condoms, lube and a hand written note saying he wished he was a bit younger….there were some parts of show business he did miss. Made it easier for us. If we wanted to lay around naked, screw outside naked, toast our nuts in the campfire naked, we didn’t feel we were bothering anyone and, based on a rather professional looking telescope I’d seen on his terrace, might just be providing some voyeuristic entertainment-was there a video camera-with a telephoto lens attached? My having not seen it did not mean it didn’t exist.


Jack never knew it but…a couple of times I’d slipped just enough away to not be heard and called Poker on my cell phone. Nothing important, just a suggestion, if he happened to be outside, he might like to check and make sure the lenses were clean….


Poker was fascinated by the ever increasing gadgets that were applied to cars and trucks, he lingered curiously over things he considered to be pointless laughed at the electronic “gimcrackery” and, when we got to the bed, almost bent double at the custom made, drop in metal and paint protector. “Sheeeit. Beds is made to get roughed up, fucked in, hop up, I’ll show ya, thas why they’re there. Look at my ol heap, those boards in the back been changed I don’t know how many times….thing still runs don’t it?” He leaned over the top of the bed, arms folded on the edge and looked straight at me;

“Time to change a lot a things ain’t it? He don’t love you, least ways that’s how it looks when he comes up here with some dude in a convertible and that dude ain’t you.”


“No. No, I guess it isn’t..” stumbled into trying to laugh, didn’t work,… “…nice to know Andy puts the top down, never thought he did….Ginger haired? Almost flaming red?”

Poker just nodded his head. “Yeah, well, that’s who it would be.” I turned my back and leaned against the quarter panel.

“You hear me son? It’s time to get rid a him before he plum kills you with heart ache. I got someone fer ye but ya gotta get rid a that cheatin’ sonofabitch. Hear Me?” I nodded, too dumb struck to say anything do, maybe tears were coming. Poker rounded the truck and stood in front of me. “I need to talk to ya but git that ass up on that fancy shit lining bed and see if’n it resists fuckin’”.

I did as asked and wondered if the bed liner was stronger than Poker’s semen?


Of course, taking me was just a time out, he had something on his mind and I was going to hear it.


“No, son, you didn’t hear me, I said, get rid of him, not let him turn you in on a newer model, you’re too fine a stallion for that.” I looked at him and tried to catch what he was throwing…but…it wasn’t quite there. I had all the words but the meaning….”You got to dispose of him, kill him, thas what I mean when I say git rid a him. Permanent, so’s you won’t run into him every damn time you turn a corner. Come on back in the house, Ol Poker has a story to tell you…bout a time years ago when we wasn’t just broke, we was poorly broke. Stumps had more’n we did and my brother and I used to play like we’s a sittin’ down to a big meal, all the good things, like double Christmas but weren’t nothin but the wind, the dust and one almost dried up farm pond that was only good if you was fishin fer mud.” We went in the house, he pushed me down and told me a story.


Four hours later driving back to our camp I HAD learned a lot, had a lot to think about and not too much time to get done what Poker told me to do. At one point during the story he was telling me he’d noticed that I’d drifted away and, to prove I wasn’t listening or paying attention, got up slapped me, hard, open hand, across my face. “Thas what I’m a tellin you, fergit him, now….” Stung but realizing he was telling me the truth I concentrated and, before long, was cheered up quite a bit. Poker did have a story and it was one with contemporary application.


Jack was sitting on a cooler in his boxers drinking a beer and, based on the empties, it wasn’t is second or, for that, his sixth. (We brought it by the case and, with the water to chill it, always had a cold one available. The code for wanting a fresh one was to holler out, “Hey, fucker, go an catch me one of those brown eyed label holders.” This time putting the bottles in the water wasn’t a good idea so, for several hours, Jack had been making do with what was still cold and in the cooler. Knowing that I’d got some ice from Poker, the sight of which cheered him. A little. The up side was that Jack wasn’t in what I might call a resistant mood to my suggestions. Without his realizing it, although he was the structured one, I more than contributed by thinking of things to do when we weren’t fishing, fucking or sleeping. As much as we enjoyed it, standing in the cold water all day, getting a good sun burn could become, for that day, more than you wanted to do. He even seemed glad to have me back and had assumed where I’d gone.


“Well, how is the old fart? Dead yet? You get the story of his life from ages three and a half to four and three quarters, Jesus, he’s so full of shit, I don’t know how you can stand him….”

“Ah, he’s a nice old guy, and he had an idea I think we can use. Seems he and some of the other ranchers own a lake about twenty miles from here that’s sheltered from any crap in it ’cause it’s fed by a spring and, this is what I think is neat, there’s a kinda notch where there’s a hot spring, can’t get too close but you can slide in and relax plus they stock the lake. Like Poker, most of ’em are old guys so they don’t go up much…he reckons there must be some in there, ten, twelve pounds…”

“Of what?…”


“What kind of fish? I doubt if we’re going to waste our time going up to this place looking for Flipper or the Loch Ness Monster. Shit head, what sort of fish do they stock it with?”

“Trout”, I blurted out…

“Okay, that’s a start, what kind of trout? Cut throat? Rainbow? Brown…..?”

“How the hell would I know, Poker said Trout and I didn’t ask him for the menu. Jeez…Anyway, he’s sending up one of his hands to make sure it’s clear, no one using it and he said tomorrow, unless we heard otherwise, just go on up. He’s gonna have a stake with a flag driven in the road so we’ll know where to turn off the road to find the hot spring…”

“Off the road? The truck isn’t even paid for and you want me to rip it up so you can go dip your nuts in a hot tub? You can do that at home.”

“He also let me borrow wet suits so we can swim out in the lake and do some skin diving with spear guns…”

He looked at me as if I’d lost it.

“Wet suits? In a lake to go snorkeling? What’s really in that pond, Jaws?”

I was already mad but this torqued me. “Look, we can’t fish here, we can go there and try it. So have some more beer, shut up about it and try and enjoy what was meant to please by an old man doing a favor, Okay?’ And slammed into the tent, regretting there was no door for impact, with every intention of taking a nap.

From the outside. “Okay…but if this doesn’t pan out….”

“Go fuck yourself”.


It was not a happy evening. Since we’d planned on a primarily fish diet, the other edibles we’d brought were side dishes or vegetables. Dinner was baked potatoes, corn, some sort of ready to cook corn bread plus plastic wrapped snacks for desert that looked almost less appetizing than the stream.


We slept back to back.


The stream almost made moving mandatory; Around four we both woke up on the verge of retching from the stench. A quick look with the flash lights revealed a dead skunk, the loser in a battle with some larger animal, on the other side but in it’s death throes had shot every bit of defensive spray it had which was now lingering over our campsite. Without even discussing it and by common consent we pulled on some clothes and started packing up. Given Jacks love of “stuff” this took some little while so that by the time we could seal ourselves in the truck and allow twenty first century air conditioning filtering to salve our lungs, the sun was well up.


As Poker had said, it was about a twenty mile drive, entirely scenic but, for once, I abandoned my jolly tour guide mode and kept my thoughts to myself. Jack was hungover-again-or, maybe, still so I drove. Normally he liked to be the Captain of his own ship but in his precarious condition he yielded the helm to his second in command, indulged Commander’s privilege by undoing his pants, took his dick in hand and indulged in another of his favorite off road activities, the long, slow, jack off. I’d known him to go to sleep mid stroke which was what happened this morning. Helpful as a Christmas Elf, I’d made masks for us but pointed out he could drink beer through the fabric which would cut the smell of the skunk which he’d done.


The road was decent enough better than one might expect but to spare Jack’s sacred truck, I turned on the cruise control to as low as it would go allowing me time to think and steer without much effort. My visit with Poker had been an eye opening experience on many levels. Beyond just finding I was now the former boyfriend, his insistence that the insult required no less than the death penalty seemed a bit too much until I thought it over. Why not shoot the sonofabitch? In fifteen years he’d not been much to me and, increasingly, apart from some sport fucking, not even part of my life. I saw him infrequnetly, we had our big deal fishing trip, we fucked even less and beyond that….nothing. The word “love” had never crept in and, now, wasn’t likely to. I said I supposed I wasn’t bright enough to guess there was another man but Poker had another view on that.


“Yer too good a man, you’d a know’d . Fuck, even after he’d dumped you he’d probably still call to ask you to do errands for him, he’s a user and it’s time he got used.” There was a pause while he diddled something into his cell phone. “Hey, Pepper? We got any of that sausage left? Whomp up a mess a sausage gravy and biscuits for our young friend here.” He turned back to me. “Can’t have puny looking murderers can we, cause that’s what you’re going to do; Murder him.”


Oddly this was arousing and I was a bit embarrassed to let Poker see how turned on by the idea I was. He liked that I was getting off on it. “Take it out, shuck it down, hell, let ol Poker suck it off, an after I git done, Pepper’ll be next, taught that boy about suckin’ myself. I knew you had it in ya to do this. And when you get ‘er done, you’ll be a new man, I promise.” With that, he took out his dentures and gave me an A number one suck job. A man with no teeth but soft gums and an artful tongue should be a national treasure. When he finished I was so completely relaxed, I just crumpled against the pillows on the couch. With a smile that couldn’t come off. Poker just gave me a shit eating grin and said, “Good thing we’re on the same side, that’s a high powered flavor you shot, makes me a wonder what the rest of you might be like….” I wondered if he’d run quality control and make Pepper give him a taste of what, if anything, he could pull from me. Oh, yeah, Pepper….followed orders perfectly; It was like being edged but by two people. Even after the last shot, I lay there wondering if I could drive back to our camp? Getting that quality of blow jobs took it out of a man. Two different ways.


I guess the guy who showed up was again, Pepper as he had a steaming plate covered with biscuits and sausage gravy. It was the sort of smell that had so much power it reached up to you, insinuated itself into your nose, you knew it would be the best you ever had. And it was. The food was such that I wondered if Pepper was up for round three? Dump some gravy on my cock and eat that.


With gravy dripping down my chin I finally could stop long enough to ask where he’d got the sausage and was told it was made right here on the ranch. There was a pause while a strange smile came across his face. “You really like it, huh?” I nodded as much as I could without having gravy drip from my mouth to the floor. “Well that’s good ’cause in a day or maybe two, that’s what yer buddy is going to be, sausage.”

I didn’t even put down my spoon-using a fork would have allowed gravy to drip through the tines. “No shit? Wow, best he will have ever tasted. I wasn’t quite putting two and two together. Where’d you get the meat?”
He paused, thoughtful, “Hey, Pepper, where’d that batch a sausage come from? I fergit.”

Pepper, an affable young man with a good rangy cowboy build, happy blue eyes and an attractive selection of deep dimples, thought a bit himself. “Seems like that was the poacher we caught about a week ago? That sound about right? Yeah, cuz, that jerk that came to see about clear cutting a swathe was before him-member? We did him in a pine bough smoker?”

I looked up. “This sausage is made from a man? I’m eating a man?” With three quarters of the plate empty, I hadn’t thrown up and…it tasted great.

“Right. So you like man meat? Enough to harvest your own?”

“You mean if it’s Jack?”

“Yeah, him first and then ole Poker will teach you how to fend for yourself, should always have a man around that needs cooking and, as you look around, yer gonna find theys a lot of them. All the boys up here with me, well, we wouldn’t touch a beef steak anymore, man meat or nothing. Right Pepper?” Pepper had a beatific smile that agreed with more than words.


We then, the three of us had a conversation that was generally about catching and cooking men and specifically about cooking Jack; Poker and Pepper considered him pretty much caught. From there it was details, working out a schedule, picking up the equipment and some other arrangements. I would have stayed longer but I knew eventually Jack would want his truck back-I was just an accessory-so we finished up knowing who would be where and when.


On my way out the door I promised to have my teeth pulled and come back to show my appreciation. For everything. Poker almost bent double laughing.


Driving back, apart from some flavorful burbs, I laughed all the way. Apart from what Poker lined out, visions of Jack being strung up, on the rack, burned at the stake, meeting the guillotine….But mainly, even though I had been a chump, emancipation was at hand and I was about to gain a new title, “Premeditated Murderer”. Laughed so hard I almost took Jack’s truck….well the truck that belonged to the soon to be late Jack into a ditch.



Jack actually liked the look of the lake, the little cove with the tongue of the lake that came in and was steaming in one spot. After the sludge of the past few days, this was more inviting than something in a travel agency pamphlet, so much so that I stripped off my clothes and ran in…right up to my nuts.


Ever notice that the water doesn’t really get cold until it hits your balls? Well, at first contact I reversed course and headed for the hot spring being careful to stay away from the steaming, hissing part. Jesus did it feel good. The water in it actually felt soft, as if you were wrapped in swaddling clothes, I yelled for Jack to come on and give it a try. Which he didn’t. He had his laugh watching me zoom out of the lake and now was on to the serious business of checking to make sure his truck hadn’t been damaged while I was driving it. Also, he felt only he could properly set up camp so I let him. Comfortable, warm, full of ideas, I lay there with just my head out of the water and, taking a suggestion from Poker, wore my sun glasses so I could watch what Jack was doing and where he put things. The only glitch in the plan was a large bag of diving stuff I’d collected and which was to stay under my control. That had been explained to Jack and since it was of no interest to him, he didn’t even look in it.


You can get too warm so I hauled myself out, had another quick dip in the deep freeze, dried off and got into my thermal underwear, my waders, picked up a pole, a hat with tied flies on it and waded in to about my waist. No doubt about it, this was fresh, cold water. I could feel my nuts pull up in my body along with my dick but at last I was fishing. First cast out, a good long one, must have gone thirty yards, I saw something flash out of the water and just missed the fly. Jack, standing on the bank, saw it too and ran to suit up; Now we were really fishing. However before he could get too involved in that, I got back out and suggested he try the wet suit over his thermals. According to Poker the really big ones were almost impossible to catch by line and bait, you needed to be in the water with them, your spear gun and some of them could and would fight. That was right up his alley. We got him in, thermals and all, booties, fins, and a spear gun and he shoved off from the bank. Not five minutes later I heard him calling, “Holy shit, I just saw a walleye the size of a sixty pound cat, this is going to be great.” I found I could but agree.


Back at the campsite I looked around the trees where I’d been told to go and found a grill on legs about a foot tall. It came in sections to accommodate the length of the thing to be grilled. Pepper and his partner Rusty had made a camp a several hundred yards from ours near the helicopter and the parking area-neither of which I’d mentioned, to my fishing buddy. They had other supplies for me and, to avoid being seen-although by now Jack was deeply engrossed in Water World and wouldn’t have noticed if I’d put up a Ferris Wheel-we were a bit cautious; Jack had a suspicious streak along with his other lacks of character. Just to be on the safe side, Rusty gave me his gun and said if anything went wrong and they couldn’t get there quick enough, shoot to kill. I was pretty much set up now all that I had to do was start the game so that I could also finish it-I hoped I could be as good a winner as Jack was going to be a good loser.


Jack came in a time or two to show me what he’d caught and I suggested that, as it was getting late, he pick one to cook and throw the others back, they’d be there tomorrow.


Worked for him and off he went to get…whatever. I started the fire under the grill, got a pot of coffee going, started baking potatoes in the embers, had some succotash Pepper brought, garlic toast, all that lacked was the main event which arrived on schedule. Great seven pound brown trout. I congratulated my fisher friend, suggested he get out of his wet suit and thermals, take a plunge in the hot spring and I’d get dinner ready.


I’m a whizz at scaling, gutting and deboning fish so within twenty minutes I had it on the grill over a slow fire ready to be pushed toward the hotter spots when Jack was ready to eat. He, too, found the hot spot to be a great place and, when he got out to come and eat, suggested we go back there after dinner just to relax…..


It was actually a good dinner. Food was all fresh, plenty of it, the light from the embers merged with the late dusk, the moon came up and was reflected in the almost still surface of the lake. Every so often a fish would jump and Jack would almost jump with it. “Jesus, did you see that? Must have been a twenty pounder…”He was finally happy, in his element, seduced by what he wanted to do, unwary, willing to do what came along. We finally turned in and, as he mounted me-he was really hard- he even thanked me for finding this place. I dozed off before he even came.

After his workout in the lake plus the energy he expended screwing me, he was almost immediately asleep when I slid out of the tent and met Pepper and Rusty for a few more “touches” and refining what we were going to do. There was only one thing that was slightly left to chance but, knowing Jack and his aggressive competitiveness, I didn’t think we had much to worry about. Apparently I was part of their group now as it was made clear that I’d move up to the bunk house with the other hands after we got the business here taken care of-After all, however much a good idea this seemed, I still ended up a murderer and murderers, too, need a place to lay their head. And get laid. (Poker was of the Code-of-the-West theory that bumping off Jack wasn’t murder, just a chore that needed doing. He did, however, feel that after the deed was done, my presence in polite society was better if it didn’t exist.)


Remembering an event of a day or so past, I suggested to Rusty that Pepper and I recreate a scene from our recent past, fuck me, while Rusty did an old fashioned edging. I almost suggested that, as asleep as he was, we all slip in and fuck my soon to be cooked partner….well, it seemed a good idea and, besides, this might be his last outing. Whether he knew it or not. ar

Pepper even said that I looked like I might taste real good….I took it as a compliment. Started to think of myself, as did the other guys around Poker, as fresh meat to be used if ever needed; Part of the deal of living there was that in a pinch you were the pot roast…. It was implicit that in the eventuality that there was no meat in the cupboard, we’d all draw straws and short straw got to be ‘it’.


Back in the tent I finally dropped off and got a excellent night’s sleep during which I could see Jack, all in one piece, in a butcher’s display case, offered up as so fresh it still had the ‘oink’. Can you laugh in your sleep? Apparently I did as Pepper mentioned he thought he heard me during the night…..


It was all I could do to keep Jack out of the lake before the sun rose. He didn’t even want a beer, just, as quick as I could get it done, some coffee, oatmeal, whatever, he just wanted protein in him when he swam out to take on in him whatever he was going to take on in the lake. I managed to slow his departure by series of annoying events that only depth charged his early morning plans. Such as I boiled the coffee pot and then found I’d failed to add the coffee. Start over. He had several sets of thermals-we’d learned from hard experience that they didn’t dry overnight and really needed sun to get the job done.


Off he went, leaving me to clean up, start the grill- and to meet Pepper and Rusty to help them set up the cameras. Poker always had some sort of something to photograph his prizes and now I’d have mine. In color and live action, my first kill; It was like memorializing your first fuck, something you’ll always remember.


I let him fool around in the lake for an hour until he came toward me and I threw an apple at him, calling for him to bob for it! He did, enjoyed the game, threw it back to me and I tossed it out again. After the next round he pretended to be a seal catching a fish and put it in his mouth, brought it to the shore and dropped it at my feet, pretending to slap his flippers and go “Arf”. This time I patted his head said “Good Boy, Go Fetch! And gave it a real heave. Just like a water Spaniel he reeled about and headed for it.


One more time and I had a suggestion….how about if I were the fisherman and he were the fish. I’d cast out with a piece of wood, something that would sink and he’d go after it. It was an instant hit. For the next two hours using ever larger things and heavier line I cast out and he’d dive down, grab it and, eventually, began to act more the fish and fight with me as I tried to reel him in. Loved it, he said, great sport. But….he wanted to make it more real. I hadn’t planned on that but it was great from my standpoint so I looked the suit over and said…what if we taped your biceps to your sides? He’d have those gigantic swim fins, was a strong swimmer himself….I could see him think it over. As he pointed out, fish had pectoral fins and if his arms were marginally tied down….easy. We’d just tape them down at the elbow and.. how would he feel about having his legs taped at his knees? That seemed okay and the last swim of the day had him newly restrained, figuring out how to make it work.


After all his exertion I gave him a beer, told him to go sit in the thermal pool and, lacking a fish, I’d come up with something for dinner. An hour later I proudly served him sausage gravy and biscuits, telling him Poker had given me that gravy and I’d forgot I’d put it in the lake to chill and keep the meat fresh. He slurped down two big platefuls and I could see was contemplating a third but held off saying he hoped there was enough for breakfast….Another beer, we spent an hour in the warm water, I jacked him off and he kissed my forehead in thanks. Pleading exhaustion, he left me behind and entered the tent. Within moments he was snoring which was the cue for Pepper and Rusty to join me. Quietly laughing, they said they couldn’t wait for me to see the tape of him leaping like a seal in the water catching things and bringing them to me. Rusty said it would only get funnier tomorrow; I thought I agreed with them.


Jack slept in. During the night he’d barely moved, I don’t think he realized what a strenuous workout I’d put him through and particularly at the end where he’d had to use more muscle to produce less effect. Just for the hell of it, I fucked him, he never noticed.


Morning and, again, he begged to be almost restrained; He was into this game and, I realized, he was beginning to see this as real contest between me, the fisherman, and him, as the fish; Suddenly it was serious for him, typical, Jack could never just play, it always turned to competition. On about his second trip in he suggested I tie something to a line with a sinker and then cast it out. Fine, just what I had in mind. We tried several things none of which gave his teeth the purchase to fight with me when “hooked”. We tried an apple but he ate half of it. Chain, I told him, could damage his teeth but…what if the chain was attached to a rubber ball? It would sink, pulled down by the chain, he could get his mouth around it and the fight would be on. Worked just like a charm with him never wondering where I got a rubber ball. All morning I cast further and further out and he, gaining ability with his restrictions, got more ambitious at how deep he’d dive and how far out he’d swim.


Short lunch, long nap. I insisted he strip, get in the hot pool, then rest if not nap. Of course he was asleep immediately and stayed that way for two hours. His only comment when he finally made an appearance was to ask why the grill was so long to which I pointed out that, fun as the game was, if he didn’t catch something dinner was going to be noticeably bland. Also, I wanted to smoke some of the catch. He walked on. To get him rigged up took a good thirty minutes and he laughingly said that sausage must be putting the pounds on him as the suit felt tight. Then down to the edge, the fisherman and his catch to be. The red ball with the weight dangling and he was after it. I had on my waders and, what he didn’t see, was that Pepper hot footed it out from the tree line, attached a solid rope to me so that I couldn’t be pulled in. Or, if things went wrong, Rusty was in a tree with a high powered rifle and a scope; He’d float until we could get to him and haul him to shore, one of the advantages of the wet suit was it had some buoyancy, even if Rusty didn’t get a kill shot, he’d float and we could haul him in. In some ways, that wasn’t what I wanted, what we planned….was far more interesting and far more instructive to my soon to be grilled former boy friend.


The third cast was made with a new pole, heavy line and a new red ball with the chain weights. For maximum distance in casting I swung from the side and back handed; The line must have gone, following the weight, almost two hundred feet and sank fast. He was after it. He dove for it and I felt in the line he had it in his mouth. All it took was one good, strong tug and the triple bladed Marlin hook that I’d sank in the new rubber ball stuck in his jaw. This time there was a fight and it was for the life of the fish. With every pull back I set the hook deeper forcing him up to breath before trying to hide under the water. Why? Why does any fish try to run after being hooked?


He knew not to get too near me and yet…he still thought this might be a game, maybe some sort of accident. The hook must have hurt like thunder and wouldn’t allow him to close his mouth. On the bank every time I gave it another strong yank, it tore into his gums then impaled itself in his jaw bone more sharply. Rattled by pain and confusion he tried to reach the offending implement with his hands but in this suit-we’d switched while he was sleeping-the arms were sewn down and then to conceal that, covered with the tape we’d previously used. Just as in a real contest with a real fish, he fought, but was coming closer; for every three feet he ran away, I pulled him in four and finally he was ten feet out, the fight gone all that was left to do was wade out, gaff him in his suit, pull him to shore and begin his conversion from man to man meat.


He tried to struggle, the blood from his mouth was oozing and, because of the spikes he couldn’t speak, just stare at me. Wondering. Pepper and Rusty came out of the bushes and helped me cut away the suit, strip him, get him cuffed and then, just for the look of it, we slung him from a pole and marched him to the grill where he was temporarily hung between two stakes. He continued to stare at me, wanting to know, wondering if this was still a game. When I took pliers and further pulled the Marlin hook into his jaw and mouth he figured it out. As with any good fish, preparation means scaling which is what I did next which also removed all of the hair from his body-the stink of burning hair adds nothing to any occasion, even a murder. He could see the smoke and the white hot embers waiting under the long grill. I hadn’t lied to him, I was going to smoke and grill my catch of the day, him.


Without going all the way in, I started an incision from his sternum to the top of his pubic bone but only going less than a half inch in. In a fish, I would have flipped him on his side, made a deep cut along the bottom, pulled out the guts, opened to filet it, pull the bones and either put it in a press for smoking or prepared to pan fry it. But Jack presented some larger problems. Committed as I was to killing him, butchering him and enjoying him, I wanted just a bit more from him, more pain, more realization from him of what was happening. I’d decided on an initial smoking and to better infuse the flesh, I took a flensing knife and made a series of close cuts the length of the body to allow the smoke and its flavor to get in. Wasn’t necessary to put him in a wire press as he could be turned and secured onto a grill set well above a smokey fire and, to help that, we were going to tent the area. Rusty had constructed an Indian smoking frame with adjustments for a man. It was a stick figure with the arms and legs wide out so that all portions of him were accessible to the heat and the smoke. As they bound him to that, I kept dragging my knife up and down his body, over his face, his lips, his feet, hands, all of him. Blood seeped but when that hit the low fire the iron in it would produce a form of nitrous oxide gas that would further eat into his tissues while making him happy. The guys had brought up a tent they used for smoking fish which was put over Jack, the glowing embers, the smoke….


One last thing, I stood by his head and casually said that I’d called Andy, cell phones distort voices so he believed I was Jack, and he was coming up day after tomorrow and I’d penciled him in to be roasted and served Saturday night. Then I stepped away, dropped the edge of the tent, grabbed a beer and thanked the guys for their help. Four hours later we opened it up to find there was some slight pulse but he was unconscious. The guys flipped him on his side, I stuck in my knife and pulled it the length of his torso letting the guts fall out. Just to make sure, I reached in and pulled out his heart. Then we lowered the grill to the frame, resumed the smoking and, some hours later took our smoked meat up to Poker and the rest of the gang.


His butcher did the honors, cutting of the head, the feet, hands…his cock and balls, offered to me-I declined them saying I’d already had them too many times already. Thirty minutes later he was on the center of the table surrounded by condiments his skin so crisp you could just pull it off to get to the flesh. Bottles of rough red Italian wine were on the table as well as bowls of Cole slaw, corn on the cob and a humongous chocolate cake for desert. Wasn’t enough left of Jack to bother to save so his bones and bits and pieces of meat were taken a few miles away and put where a pack of wolves could enjoy the remnants of him; They were particularly fond of breaking the bones to get the marrow.


“Well, son, when you fixin’ to get yer teeth yanked? I believe you made me a promise. And remember I got something for you sort of a surprise.”

I called Pepper over and whispered something in his ear. He gave me that, “Jesus…” He stared at me. “Are you fucking serious?” look to which I said, “… as a heart attack”

A few minutes later he was back with a set of pliers and two guys to hold me down. Just before they started yanking I looked Poker and said, “Man eaters need sharper teeth.” They started to pull.



After my gums finally became just lines of soft tissue, I found a dentist two hundred miles away who made several pair of dentures for me. As I’d said to Poker, man eaters do need sharper teeth so one of the pairs could rip through flesh, living or dead. Also, on the last trip when my various sets were put in and adjusted, I’d had Pepper follow me; The idea being I’d leave Jack’s truck in the long term lot at the airport. I hadn’t seen one, but knew there had been posters asking for information about both of us, finding the truck wouldn’t help, particularly when they found a semen sample-atypical of a crime scene-along with blood spatter, in the cab. Clearly we’d been in it, something had happened there but now….? Every thing was dried, months since either of the supposed victims had been in it and…Jesus, I wanted to see the deputy who figured out what the semen was, wonder what the fuck….?


As to his boyfriend, too dumb not to come when called, I had a special fate for him. Almost too easy to catch, I’d personally escorted him to the place where we tossed leftover meat and bones for our pack of friendly Wolves that lived in the area. Didn’t even bother to slice him, just made sure he was cuffed then one leg staked to a steel spike we kept for just such purposes; One last touch, I made some slashes that weren’t deep, wouldn’t kill a man but would bleed and attract carnivores…Never saw it but heard tell that sometimes the vultures got into with the wolves as to which group got what first….Poker was determined to get a film of that some way.


That night, as I blew Poker with my soft gums, the howling was particularly loud; We guessed they didn’t get live game very often. Only sorry we couldn’t hear the screams….before they got his throat.


I settled into the routine of Poker’s place. He had things he liked his men to be, sorta hairy for one and tan for another, said it made us look more like animals. When the sun was out, part of each day was spent on the look-out porch, naked, working out, deciding on when we needed to go to the ‘market’ again. It was into Fall and Poker wanted a full freezer; The weather could and did seal us in with snow for several weeks occasionally so beyond non perishables, kerosene, lots of chopped wood there was the larger issue of meat. (We had an old fashioned root cellar in which we kept things like potatoes, corn, parsnips, the vegetables we grew that, once picked, kept a long time in a place with a lowered temperature.) We weren’t lazy, now and again two or three would go off and pick off something that would last a few days-one time we had a stroke of luck, six hippies came round, real polite, asked if they could camp down the way a bit for one of their rituals, the one where, in their bizarre culture, the men were wholly circumcised then staked out so ‘Father Sun’ could welcome their man head into….whatever.


Poker, feigning interest in a culture that wasn’t his, asked if a couple of his men might attend, not as participants but as respectful observers, even agreed to be sort of helpers, stripped, body painted….As it worked out, they waited until the three who were to be staked out were down then cut the throats of the three ‘Celebrants’. Guess the guys on the ground thought this was some part of the ceremony they didn’t know about. Just to play it one step further, our guys already stripped and covered in completely made up symbols, slathered ashes on their bodies then, still with the ceremony, crawled to each of those staked out, cut off their nuts, a treat for Poker….about then they figured it out. With six men in the freezer, we could lean back for a while, get ready for hard winter, fuck each other more….in fact, sex became our main activity every day. Making a snow angel and getting plowed at the same time….may be the only angel mark with a cock and balls.


I had became Poker’s favorite, seemed to like his old man hard cock and was ready for it whenever. Right here, whatever you think of old men and sex, you could be wrong. You could have used his meat as an anvil, it was that hard plus tipped so when it went in you, you were effectively staked out until he decided to let you up. Almost like a dog, he could knot his pecker inside you which locked him in-that was the moment he liked me to carefully turn 180 and let him almost eat my cock. He said, and I believed him, that only his affection for me and his other men kept him from eating their cocks and balls…seems somewhere he’d developed a taste for them. Occasionally some of the guys found some temporary work on a ranch doing the branding and gelding, part of round up . Got a bucket full of calf nuts after a steering session on a local ranch and while we gobbled them up, he said they had to come from a man or he wasn’t interested.



Being Poker’s favorite seemed to cause no problems with the other guys. His constant mantra to me was that….someday he had a surprise for me, something I would like. Okay, but I was happy with or without whatever he had in mind. One thing. I felt now that we were at the first edge of Winter, I wanted to organize my own shopping trip, bring in a good haul that would supplement what we had….would prove my appropriateness to stay there, to seem to become….something I didn’t fully understand but knew it existed.


Months had passed. My lover of fifteen years was now part of me; I’d eaten him. I’d become part of a group of men who relished the taste of male flesh and had banded together to guarantee their continuing supply of slaughter house quality men. Back then, seems so long ago, I was a guy with a so/so job, a less than satisfactory boyfriend and a certain sense of aimlessness that wasn’t bad but was the proverbial treadmill. And then we went fishing.


I don’t even remember Jack ‘cept he’d tasted good, Poker was right, killing him got him off my mind permanently. One of the guys, as a joke, cut off his cock and balls, had ’em stuffed and I used them as a key ring for a while, the sort biker wear, hanging outside your pants on a chain. That gets looks you better believe. Had it ended in a slightly different way, I might have had his cock made into a dildo but under the circumstances, no. Eventually, since no keys were necessary, I added them to a group of ‘souvenirs’ of ‘guests’ who had stayed to be dinner. A couple of our meals had interesting tattoos which someone suggested we skin and make into whatever. That was just too close to Ilse Koch and the Third Reich so the idea was abandoned.


However, each of us had ink of some variety. Just depended on your taste and how far you were willing to go. One thing, Poker drew a line at tats that were vulgar, tasteless, without some meaning to the owner. I had the physics symbol meaning ‘forever’ on my chest looped around my breasts. Poker had my nipples pierced, both up and down as well as back and forth. One difference, the inner most bar had a hole in it for a chain that connected each side and, when he wanted, a longer one that led from me to a place where I was hung by my wrists while he flogged me. Said it built character. Only Pepper also was treated to this and only Pepper had pierced nipples, but only one way…


For his own reasons he wanted his men to look like his idea of grizzled saddle tramps. Kept us outdoors, naked, even in winter when the sun was bright cutting into the cold. We cut each others hair which….looked like something an old saddle tramp might have done. None of us looked like we did when we arrived….never asked but it was assumed some of the guys were on the run from some form of crime or another. One thing, and Poker knew who’d done what, he preferred men who’d murdered or, like me, killed a partner who, in is mind, deserved to be killed. Never got talked about but….it built a strange camaraderie plus it sure as hell made it easier to change our catches to table meat. Once, and only once, had supplies really run low so without saying anything, straws were drawn and short one….Guess they made his departure easy on him.


I knew Poker had good intentions for me, he proved it every day and I was one of the few men there he fucked because I wanted him to. Old man cock is still hard and he knew how to ride my pony all night long. Sometimes he’d put a soft bit in my mouth with a bridle while he held the reins. He’d kneel behind me his big cock well oiled and in me. talkin’ to me…”Yes, sir, yer a good’n and I got something for you, just learn a few more things and then Old Pokers gonna make you a gift. Member the night you had Pepper get the pliers and yank out some of your teeth? Greatest gift a man ever gave me, not just because you kept your word but cuz I knew you really wanted to be able to suck my dick just like I sucked yours, and that meant no teeth. When I look at your new choppers, specially the ones made to tear through raw meat, I think …. there’s my man. I could mount you a thousand times a day and you’d be happy to have me…means somethin’…take a couple of deep shots…oh yeah, clench that ass,..grab my old man stick…I’m the last man you’ll every let fuck you unless you really want to let some one but yer gonna be a sweetheart of a fucker and you got meanness now, just like you should have. Doesn’t mean yer a bad man, just got hardened up a bit. I watched you jerk off that last time when Jack was being smoked on the grill, I almos’ fell down when you blew that load and shoved it up his nose, probably that’s what killed him but I member that, what a great idea, cum stuffin’ their nose. You gotta good strong back need ta do some more weights cuz when you bring in those two hundred pounders, a man don’t want a bad back…you knew I’m fixin’ to brand you I spect….”

“No, didn’t.. When….?”

“Oh when there’s a good time, you’ll know it, I betcha right now if I called for Pepper to start the forge and git out the brandin’ irons you’d go for it wouldn’t chee?”

“ Fuck me deep for a minute and I’ll tell you….Oh, yeah, bash in this man’s g spot, feels sooo good.” I could feel his cock stiffen at the idea of branding me which moved the action along; Kinda turned me on too. It was almost quiet ‘cept for his deep, throaty moans and my chorus egging him on, forcing him to get his seed in me….I wanted it… Got whipped out and fast as I could I pivoted around and licked him clean….Then rolled back.

“Old man, you have your brand on me in every way. Each time I feel your seed I’m your man and I’m gonna be proud to carry your mark wherever you put it. When ever you want to. Make that iron hot cuz I wanta sizzle like steak when you run it on me….”


He got up, sat on the edge of the bed, rolled a cigarette and looked at me. “Member I told you I had a gift for you? Well, I still do and it’s about time to let you have it. Tell Pepper to get the irons hot for tomorrow just after breakfast, all the guys need to see this.” Also, tonight, you, Pepper, Rusty, Jakey, Sancho…. you’re all sleeping in my bed, paid enough for that big fucker, might as well use it. I’ll explain why tonight. Now scat, wash my cum that’s leaking out of my man’s faucet. Have Pepper take you to the horse tank, give you a cowboy tubbing…..”


He was right, those baths in the troughs were a treat. They looked just like ordinary horse troughs but they had hot and cold running water, jets that shot water up your ass, massage jets, a person could sit in there for hours. Some days, if we were cooking a man outside, you could watch the meat on the spit turning, getting a crisp shell on the outside to keep it juicy on the inside. Always good when we’d stuck him still living and you could see the pain in his eyes as he went around. Moments like that made a jet of water up your ass feel real good. Some one would come out and baste the meat, dampen the fire to produce more smoke, check the degree of done-ness and go back in the kitchen. Just the smell of roasting man meat wafting over you got you hard, said there’s good eating tonight. Wondered who it was but it didn’t matter.


Took a nap, Poker could always ride me hard and put me up wet, even after the bath and almost missed the bell for chow.


Dinner was always informal, beer, meat, maybe corn-Poker said show him a man who didn’t like corn and he’d show you a man you couldn’t trust-maybe dessert but mainly we just sat around, slopped down food and planned where to get our next load of meat and if anyone had any suggestions. Maybe watch one of the cooking channels for ideas but mainly they weren’t much help. Nice people probably but damn, they never cooked anything that weighed over three pounds. One guy, an oriental on something called “Iron Chef” looked like he’d make good Sushi but we weren’t much into that. Tartare on occasion but Sushi? I’ll take a pass.


Just as we were breaking up going off to do whatever we did Poker said that tonight we all were to sleep in with him-great shouts of approval- and then tomorrow morning….he looked all around the room, I was gonna get branded. Great respect to me. Every man shook my hand, said they knew it, that it’d be me but it was just fuckin’ great. And they’d shore be there. Sancho handed me a beer and told me to come to him after it was done to have some salted cream on it that would make it heal in raised letters, knew I’d want that.


The evening passed, watched television, played cards, read, then Poker appeared and said it was lights out and the guys damn near stripped on their way to his big room. Poker had evolved the idea of a pack of men rather than just a bunch of guys hanging out. When we hunted we did so as a pack, took the kill as a pack with the Alpha Man, Poker, having first rights to rip into the kill with his special teeth, like mine, made for ripping and tearing flesh. ‘Course he never did cause it was to be shared out with all of us but it was the respect of the thing. In bed we played like cubs, rolling, slobbering, just enjoying each other. Jakey had his dick sewed to his abdomen, just like a dog or a wolf-to piss, he had to go outside and lift his leg at a tree- and he’d fuck guys that way or whatever; Only doggy style for him . There was no pecking order in our fucking or whatever we were doing with each other, just a sense of pleasure you were getting and giving. Finally Poker’d had enough and he’d take up a dog quirt he had and swipe it around, catching everyone on the butt and we’d make noises like pups hurt then shut up. Just like very young animals everywhere, we slept in a pile fighting to be closest to the warmth or the bottom or wherever you wanted. That night, late, Poker, extracted me from the group and quietly leaned into my ear.


“You took this ril good, an’ I’m proud. Not one man here has anythin’ but the most respect for you an’ that includes me. I want one last fuck before I take your stud cherry with my brands-there are two of ’em-so roll on over and do what you know you can do; He leaned over, kissed my ass then moved in to mount me.


This time he said nothing, just his hard cock in my tight hole without fighting for dominance, it was a partnership. Easy in, out, in out, I was sweating and laying there fearing that the sun might start up and he’d finish me off but, in the end, he silently slid out, pulled around and, holding his hard old man’s cock up like a fountain let me take his juice and when I finished, mouthed him, showed the Alpha I respected him, then lay on my back while he came again on my belly and licked it up.


Like all puppies, we woke up slowly, yarring, stretching, boxing at each other but finally, one at a time, drifted across the floor grabbing clothes, just whose it didn’t really matter. Some one started the range, made coffee, got out the bottles of juice-no glasses, we just drank straight from the container and breakfast was under way. The idea wasn’t to eat and run but sorta hang around until everybody was there. Drink coffee, talk about nothing, eat, get up fix your own eggs or have a bowl of cereal…could take two hours but by the end of the meal everyone knew what the day would bring, one or two of the highlights and what they were supposed to do.


This morning Pepper quietly came up behind me and asked that I have a moment with him, private like. Okay, no problem. He took me out on the terrace where there was an iron pot hot with coals and two sticks coming out and a saw horse, one with straps at the wrists and ankles and a board that extended down at an angle from the horse that didn’t touch the ground.


He gave me a sympathetic look. “Bill, I need you to strip and bend over the horse so I can strap you down and then go get the guys. Two minutes later I was ass in the air, legs and arms wide spread and attached to the legs of the horse and, I assumed, ready to get branded. He quietly slipped a thick piece of balsa wood in my gums to conceal most of my screaming, rubbed my butt and left.


Everyone assembled, naked, this was a ceremony so to mark it, special attentions had been taken. The guys, my pack, stood in a row to one side so they could see the brands going in and coming away leaving an angry, permanent mark. What it would be….no one knew. Poker had made the brands and, even after they were in the fire getting almost blue hot, still never said.


Standing there Poker said the words that everyone expected and yet…didn’t. First up, I was the new Alpha Male, he’d still be one as well but the old must give way to the young and here, as opposed to a pack out there, we didn’t kill the old, we just put up with their stories. Everyone laughed. He’s going to be the same Bill we’ve come to love but now he leads. Anyone doesn’t like that, thinks he’s been shorted, leave-if he thought he could without the rest of us keeping him as food. That done, he asked Pepper to hand him the largest one.


“See that letter, that there’s an A like in the Greek alphabet, like in Alpha Male and it goes here” he swung slightly to his right, and sunk it into my cheek just below the eye. I may have passed out, don’t know.


“Now, before we can do the other one, gotta do some work.” From the floor where he’d had them laid he picked up two nails and a hammer. Reaching down, he grabbed my ball sack, pulled it down over the piece of wood that extended from the horse but didn’t make contact with the ground. He stretched me as far as he could, then taking a nail to the furthest point pulled away, he pounded it in. Second nail, same way. “This here little brand says to anyone that he is from our tribe, he is the seed of our tribe, the Alpha and, here, the Omega”. I only thought the brand on my face hurt. I could smell the sizzle of hair and flesh and feel it, oh my God, could I feel it. He made a point of making sure it went right on top of my left ball….I wondered if I was now half castrated? Could heat cook a nut?


Some one threw a buck of cold water on me, pulled the nails, hurried hands untied me, lifted me up, all the guys looked at me with new respect. As promised, Sancho put his arm around my shoulder and took me off for another date with pain when he put the salt cream in. But, as he said, “Man, those are the proudest marks any man could have. I half expected you to scream, fuckin’ hell, but you just stayed where you were….”

I gave him as much of a smile as I could find. “Don’t think it didn’t hurt cuz it sure as fuck did.”

“Get back in, the other guys will want to be with you, nuzzle you, their new Alpha, we’d all worried….” and then didn’t finish the sentence.

“Can I get some clothes, or do we stay….?”

“Hell, no, buddy, grab some of mine, shorts, shirt, you know how it is with our clothes out here.” And I did. Better to stay naked, to exhibit my new Alpha State, it’s what would be expected-couldn’t see the mark on my balls through shorts…


Back in the main room I found everyone else some partially clad, some nude and watching Poker as he crossed the branding irons and tried to find a place on the wall to display them. “Next Person to use ’em will be Bill when he finds the next Alpha. Well, don’t just stand there staring at your new pack leader, get him a beer, hug him, show you accept him as your Alpha…”


I was immediately surrounded by my pack, happy, showing me, some licked me, some just pressed against me, some kissed my cock-no one touched my ball sack they knew how that would hurt. But Poker, maybe knowing that the tide hadn’t completely shifted, took one more liberty. “Bills a good name, no denying Alpha Man needs something a bit better and here it is: Bullet. From now on, Bill was then an’ Bullet is now.”


I liked the name for no reason. Didn’t really suit me, I didn’t shoot much but the concept of being the bullet, the thing that will kill when other things won’t, yeah, I liked it a lot. Poker was through with public announcements and so meandered through the crowd finally ending up by my side. He touched the still smarting place on my cheek. “Damn fine, son, damn fine. Looks good on you. Not going to ask you how you feel just yet but come some days we’ll sit down and palaver about everything. Oh, I’m moving your room next to mine so you might run down there and see if it’s in good condition, apart from some drunks once in a while, hasn’t been anyone reglar in that room in twenty years. Git…you need some rest. That’s gonna sting for a bit and the one on your nuts will hurt every time you walk but that’ll go away-in time.”


I headed for the room by Poker’s trying to remember if I’d ever been in it. The door was open and Pepper was making some passes at trying to clean up, make it ready for occupancy..

“Hey, just making sure everything you need….uh, Bullet? Member how Poker said he had somethin’ for you?”

I nodded in an absent sort of way, had wondered but Poker had his ways of doing things and I assumed, when he got to the right time, he’d tell me.

“Well, I’m your gift….”


Pepper? I focused on him. The brown curls on his forehead, the downcast eyes, the dimple, the freckles… “See, Poker knows that you need someone, kind of a partner, you’re not used to bein’ alone like he is an’, anyway, an Alpha always has his bitch so he thought, since I liked you an all…”

I took him in my arms, kissed him and made him get down on all fours. He knew what to do instinctively and only using one paw got my cock out and quickly drained it. When he was finished cleaning me I got him back into my arms and just held him.


“Like yer surprize I see.” Poker was standing in the open door. “Pepper came to me about a year ago, when we first saw that red head an’ he was in tears, sayin’ Bill was too good a guy for that to happen to him. Offered to go shoot what’s his name right then but I told him to hold his horses, I had somethin’ in mind. Which I did. I’m an old man, can’t last forever and I needed to know the Alpha who took my place was the man I wanted him to be and that’s you, Bullet. An’ every Alpha male needs his right hand man, to be his man an’ I been trainin’ ole Pepper here just for you. If you liked me fucking you, well, Pepper’s been trained to be a stud but only for you. He’s the only one that can mount you an’ you don’t let another man touch him cuz he’s yers. Now I want to see the two of you get up on that bed and Bullet, sink it into him. Deep like you know how to do. Show him you been taught good.”


“One day I’ll take him out to where I do my iron work, get a collar for him, seal it shut…..”. Pepper dropped his head, then looked at me… “Bullet I’m your man….I asked Poker for the collar….it’ll mean a lot to me…specially if you’re there while it’s welded on….”. I held him again whispering in his ear that I would be proud to own him…..he just needed to say one word to make him completely mine. He looked right into my eyes, didn’t blink, said four, “ Bullet, I’m your Slave.” I held him, kissed him….Poker stood by us while I finished off the first part….took my knife and carved my sign, a bullet, in his breast. Later, I’d get some cream from Sancho to make sure they stayed prominent and permanent. Never had a slave but….truth was, I genuinely prized Pepper , he was a good, kind man so only in his mind was he my slave. However, Poker would have approved this, any man make a move on him and they’d be sausage-whether they were one of the guys here or a stranger, no difference, Pepper was private property, marked and soon to be steel collared as such.

We had a few men come up, try figure our what was going on, got Pepper, tried to fuck him…. and they learned their fate….after they hung in the smoke house for several days following which I shot off their nuts one at a time with a shot gun…..Alphas don’t fuck around.


Wasn’t much to do but follow his orders. Pepper was smooth fleshed, only a little hair over his dick and on his head, his ass hole hairless, tanned, inviting. He knew how to work it and I could tell we’d never lack for something to do. Poker watched as he licked me up to an erection then laid me back and impaled himself on my cock. I had to do nothing, just lay there and let his ass eat me, massage me, pull me up into him. He was strong and reached behind him to first massage and then pull my nipples as he began to sweat. It was slow and deep and good, just right for morning. I flicked his ass with my finger and he knew that meant finish which he accomplished by turning around and stroking himself off as I shot in him.

“Feed me.” He took his finger and ladled his sperm into my mouth until there was none. Ole Poker just smiled, turned away and closed the door. Pepper crawled up beside me, his lean, hard body warm and moist and yielding to me. I took him in my arms, rolled him so his head was on my chest and let him rest while I licked the sweat and new blood from his chest. He relaxed, we slept.


In the darkness of sleep I planned my first kill…


When I could walk without smarting and when my cheek was settling down, or, rather, up, thanks to Sancho and his constantly peeling the scab, salting the wound and making it stand up, the larder was getting low; It was time for a me to plan what we’d do. Poker hung back letting me take the lead, make the decision, estimate how much meat we’d need for how long. It was coming up mid fall and winters could be hard, needed extra protein for a man to stay in shape. In my mind, I was thinking about hunting, well, hunting season and how the forests were already filled with hunters who, lacking any real knowledge, shot everything that moved from signs swaying in the wind to each other. This last was a dynamic I could and would use to my advantage.


One evening we dragged out our boxes of ‘hunting gear’ or what would make us look like legitimate hunters come up from wherever to…hunt. I’m not really a fan of “style” so the vogue for camouflage everything had missed my attention but that oversight was corrected as they dumped the box of clothing on the floor. Just to make it quicker, we divided everything into six piles, one for each of us with no thought as to what might be in them, the primary sort could fix that. As we went through it, I grew more and more mystified as to why anyone with a lick of sense felt that….camouflage socks-with epaulets-contributed to hunting. Ditto the many kinds of underwear, from jocks to boxers, similarly covered were of much use but some manufacturer must have thought they could sell them and, obviously, they were right.


Apart from the curiosities in the bunches, we each had several outfits that were appropriate for actual hunting, well made, warm, had the look of authenticity. Garbed in that and carrying a shotgun or a rifle or a bow and arrow or a spear gun or a cross bow-you never knew….and you were welcomed into the brotherhood of the amateur assassin. Well, others were, we were just some good guys out doing the grocery shopping and happened to be wearing cast offs from everybody from the Army and the Marines to L.L.Bean; We looked like what they bought all that expensive shit to look like, real hunters of game. We just switched the game so they were the hunted.


In a sense, our hunts were short and to the point, we weren’t stalking a deer with any points, but rather the man who was stalking it. Or whatever they were trying to kill to, I guess, bring home to surprise their families with the expense spared them of shopping for meat. Of course, that didn’t factor in the costs of all the shit they’d bought to dress down, be one of the guys, get dirty, greasy, etc. And it’s hard to know how grateful families might be to find a passel of song birds, vultures, rodents-imagine a housewife charged with “cleaning” a porcupine-and then the finale when they attempted to cook whatever they’d shot. In the back of my mind I’m reasonably certain that the American Palate does not immediately accept bear or skunk or falcon or … you see my point. Our palate, however, was all set to accept the hunter as a meal and so, before dawn broke some days later, Jakey and I wandered into the forest to go “hunting”.


I liked doing things with Jakey, beyond his cock sewed to his abdomen like a dog or a wolf, he’d kept the foreskin so when his prick came out, looked just like an animal. Never used the indoor plumbing, peed on a tree or squatted to take a shit, carefully burying it to prevent predators from finding it. If you didn’t know that, he looked just like a slightly suburban dad hunting for meat for his family, nice guy, trust him, clearly a good man. His animal instincts somehow made it easier and quicker for us to find the lure we would need; a kill to show the hunters/prey we were after and leaving a treat for our Wolf buddies, all hung and bled out. Sometime I was afraid he might decided to stay and join the pack which could only end one way but….giving himself to his pseudo pals in the woods was the best way he could imagine. We talked about it…while it gave me the shivers, as Alpha, if that’s what he wanted…and was ever really serious, come to me and I had an idea that he might just like. Something that would guarantee his finding the pack that normally was near our home.


We drove an old pickup-left for us by a previous meal- along a road at some distance from our place until we began to notice signs of other hunters; Cars and trucks by the side of the road, signs of brush disturbed as they stomped in trying to keep quiet and we slowed down when we saw a brand new fifty thousand dollar pick up with Rhode Island tags, too new to yet have Trump stickers and we knew we were on to our game. I jumped out to give it the once over while Jakey pulled on down the road and let our heap sorta slide into the brush, not hidden but not obvious. He’d find me and we would wander off into the woods, each of us carrying a gun and a large back pack.


We looked grizzled, un shaved, the prototypical local hunter and, from the sounds of a running creek nearby, I knew lunch, dinner and breakfast were about to be served. I looked at Jakey and he made an obscene gesture with his tongue that said, yep, this was the place. Based on what I’d seen, I knew there were two men; the truck had things on both sides of the console, there was even a note in the window saying in case of emergency…and then listed their names and who to call in the event of a problem.


I almost laughed. There was about to be a “problem” but no one would call the carefully listed numbers to report their demise. Ever.


Anyway, we set up our camp, found theirs, noticed it looked more like a photograph from “Field and Stream” than a real camp but, so what, it made them happy and also very findable. Back at our place we stripped, took a swim in the cold water, built a fire, warmed beside it, fucked Jakey-watched him lift his sewn on cock to take a piss (I’d watched him fuck guys with that, redefined doggy style)-then decided what way would be the most fun for us. That they were dead meat in our minds was a given, it was just a matter of assisting them to their mortality.


When you have a pair to be taken down it’s only marginally harder and the hard part can be that you might have to physically haul your kill out. We’d done it but…today there was a better plan, a ploy, one we called “wounded bird”. As afternoon came on, Jakey went out and took down a deer which he brought back for us to hang, bleed and be our lure. Next, taking a twelve pack, we ambled down the creek until, Surprise! (well, to them) there were our fellow campers.


We looked the part, talked the part and were accepted as accomplished hunters. Plus, thanks to technology, we had a picture of our kill hanging back at our camp. Just up the creek a piece and, well, sure, we’d be happy for them to come on up and have a look, Jakey offered to show them, since they said they were new at this, how to gut and speed butcher in the field but…it was still bleeding out so why not have a beer, or three, and then we could all go up and they could see what lay ahead.


What is it in people that makes them believe that a man dressed like a hunter in the forest with beer and a fresh kill is any less dangerous than a Muslim terrorist trying to blow up the Supreme Court Building in Washington? Of course the simple answer is that this is one sort of brotherhood, we looked non-threatening, probably from a down and out suburb who really needed the meat. We were good guys, wide eyed at their magnificent spread, eager to show them what we had that they had not: A kill. They were not used to the strenuous days of activity and made more tired by five or six beers, we headed back to our camp. I went ahead to make sure the fire was lit, the few artificial lights we had were on while Jakey stayed with them, guiding them to…the snare.


In sight of the hung deer, one of them hit a carefully constructed trap that looked like an ordinary piece of wood over which a man could fall and injure himself. Which is just what happened. We could hear the bone snap and the guy scream in pain and watch his buddy stop and wonder what to do. But he needn’t have bothered; Seasoned men of the forest, we knew what to do and did it. No time to get back to their camp, we needed to get out while there was some lingering twilight and get the wounded gentleman up to our place where we could make him comfortable and call for more assistance. The presence of a helicopter was mentioned which, given their other concerns just then, they took as normal. The leg was easily if painfully splinted and he was held up by his buddy with Jakey and I taking turns assisting. We’d made our camp so we were closer to our truck than theirs but offered to get it and one of us could drive it while the other took point and led us to our place.


What great guys we were, even to having a bottle of Bourbon that wouldn’t kill the pain but wouldn’t make it hurt more. We found our truck, managed to get their truck and formed our party to drive back. My suggestion was that both of them ride in the bed of their truck where one could lay out flat not having to try and bend the leg. We insisted that each of them have a sort of improvised seat belt, especially the guy laying down, and roped them to the sidewalls so they wouldn’t bounce out-and also couldn’t get out if they tried.. Jakey and I got up in the truck bed with rope they apparently didn’t realize they had and, while securing them so they wouldn’t fall out, bashed them in the skull and they were down for the count.


Life was easier then. No noise, no wearying questions about what the fuck was going on, just two hunters returning from a successful day leaving only a run down campsite with a deer that, by morning, would be pretty much eaten up, appreciatively, by the local wildlife. As to the campsite of our guests? Eventually someone would find it and then the usual would commence. Of course, no one would miss them for several days and by then, well, their fate would have taken a turn for the table.



While the guys off loaded our cargo, Poker and I stood beside the truck and he cast his usual distrustful glances at it. “Shit, spend that kinda money on this? Whattaya reckon this piece of painted tin set them back? Forty, fifty thousand?”
“At least, maybe more. You’d hate the doodads in the cabin, Jakey pushed one just to see what it did and got a dial tone. Turn that off fast.” He looked at me. “ I checked, no tracking devices, just the direction finder that failed to tell them they were driving into trouble.” I sneered a bit as did Poker.


We walked into the kitchen where the meat was having their clothes stripped and were about to be tied down, the one with a bad leg out flat, the other hung by his wrist, tied together, over a pair of hooks, spreader bar between his ankles which had a tie down on the bottom that just fit the hook on the floor-good thing he wasn’t taller, wouldn’t have been so convenient. We all got a beer then settled down waiting for them to wake up so the fun could begin; Half an hour later we doused them with cold water and that turned the trick. Sputtering, confused, one of them in pain, they came around making the usual demands, once they’d noticed they were naked, not free to go, while we just sat and watched them.


This was the part where they changed into meat not only in our minds but, with some coaching, theirs as well. The guy with the broken leg was in almost too much pain to worry about anything else-without his pants it proved to be a nasty green stick fracture. We let him holler for a bit and then Poker went over, got his attention and allowed as how that must hurt like fuck. The guy on the table just mumbled something which Poker took to mean, “uhuh”.


“Well, that’s the shits ain’t it. A fine big man like you hobbled up with a bum leg, all that pain. Gotta take care of that.” I took the Alpha position. “Looks real bad, don’t it, Bullet, you need to do somethin’ about that leg, looks mean…”

That’s when I swung the axe I was holding and cut it off neatly, right at the hip joint. No point in having it tied down, not in the condition it was in, so I picked it up and tossed it to Sancho who ran the foot through a hook in the ceiling by the other guy and let the blood come out. We knew the guy on the table was going to be in shock so what we did, as we explained, to his buddy, was just a sort of show and tell for his benefit. He was encouraged to watch closely to see if he could remember the order in which things were done.


As quickly as possible the femoral artery was clamped off, if that hadn’t been done he’d have died from blood loss, even laying down, in two, maybe three minutes. Poker leaned against the wall as a sort of tour guide for the meat still alive and hanging there.


Waited a few minutes and then revived the guy on the table who was so disoriented I’m not sure he remembered his leg had just been chopped off; If anything he was actually in less pain which was or was not to his benefit.




Poker started his tutorial. “See, if he was upright, hanging, we’d a just cut his feet off and let him bleed out but seein’s how he’s lying down, we’d just get it in spurts, go everywhere, as the heart pumps. You know, pump out spurt, pump in, no spurt and that’s a turrible mess, even on these floor that were made to be cleaned with a fire hose. By the way, name’s Poker, Poker Flatz and this here, the kindly gentleman holding the ax is my man, Bullet. He’s fixin to decide what to do with your buddy or, more likely, trying to think whether he’d be better as a roast, smoke him, grill him or butcher him for the freezer. He’s pret near two hundred pounds an I spect we could git, uh, maybe hundred pounds of good eatin off him. Whaddaya think?” He gave the meat by him a friendly pinch that was more in the way of a palpating his flesh, checking for resiliency, possible fat levels, lean muscle, all the things that determine the best thing to be done with meat.


“Hey, Bullet, this one’s prime fer shure. You thinking what I’m thinkin?”

I looked over as Poker ran his hand over the gut: Sausage, smoked sausage. I could see on the faces of the other guys they had that in mind, too. A big sausage feed where you ate till you threw up and then laid around the rest of the day. On a cold day by a roaring fire, later you could cook hot dogs for dinner if anyone had the courage to eat. Beer, sleep and wake up to more of it only this time it stayed down.

“So…for this one…?”

“Get him out of the way, everyone take a saw or whatever and speed butcher him as is. The parts can be hung before they’re wrapped and the intestines washed and then soaked in brine. Okay, Go.”


As the Alpha, I always got to take first cut and, while he was still living and could understand what was happening, I had someone hold up his head while I first castrated him and then cut off his cock. Our usual was to stuff them in his mouth as the head would be thrown out and, I felt, it gave him the final sense of no longer being a man and really being meat. I held them, they were nothing to brag about, over his head, pulled down his jaw and shoved them in. I’d barely stepped back when his body turned into a carcass and then into butchered parts in about five minutes. Before we broke to rest a spell, have a beer, maybe a Bourbon, he was hung up in parts all around his partner to bleed out leaving only the genital stuffed head on the board turned to face the remaining meat, something for him to ponder while we went elsewhere.


“Overnight? It’s still early so we could have some fun with him, get him in the smokehouse and, tomorrow, finish him off, ready to roast or maybe…there’s just something about him that pisses me off so that means….”

“Holy Shit, you’re gonna spit roast him alive, ain’t ya?”


I smiled my quiet smile for which I was getting famous, it made my eyes become furtive, conspiratorial….”yeah, spit him, live. Least until he quits screaming unless he really gets to me and I whack off his tongue. Agreed?” I could tell by the looks on their faces that they were planning what we did on these occasions. First, we’d take him to the roasting pit, secure him to a tree while we got the coals going, tested the rotisserie, added some more coals, then, two of us to an end, pulled him out straight, arms tied to his sides but crooked a bit to let the heat get to his side ribs, pry open his mouth…but that was a tease. He’d seen the spit so guessed what was coming only he missed a formality: Getting his ass opened to accept the rounded end of the spit. We each fucked him then when he was still crying in humiliation, the spit would slowly be run through him being careful to do as little damage to the organs as possible. I liked it to come out just above his sternum, leaving his throat open to breath, then up thru his lower jaw and out his mouth. But that was for tomorrow. Then, when his skin was beginning to crackle and blister open allowing fat to drip into the fires, we’d all hang out, roll smokes, have a beer, play with each other, just watching him until that got boring and we went away leaving him to turn and cook. I liked a good cowboy tubbing right about then, the smell of the meat, Pepper behind me washing my back, it was a good comforting way. That’s what I though about tomorrow then rolled over, found Pepper, ruffled his hair and kissed him good night. Sleep.


But later that night in bed I wakened, put my head back leaning on my hands while I thought. There was something more here, I didn’t quite have it but…there was an answer to be found. Problem was, there wasn’t a question. Pepper was sleeping peacefully and I hated to wake him but…

“What’s the problem, someone in the house?”

“No, but…I need to do something.”

“Don’t know just get up and get dressed, remember it’s cold out so dress warm, we may be outside a bit….” Faithful as a bird dog, he not only got himself dressed but handed me clothes to put on that, in his opinion, would keep me warm. “Do you know where we’re going? Should I grab the keys to something….?”

And then I knew.


“Yeah, find the keys to the pickup we brought home today, we’re going on a treasure hunt of sorts.” He looked puzzled so I gave him a Dutch rub, swatted his butt, smiled at him. On the way out I grabbed a large canvas bag and some shears for no reason but one never knew when something would need to be cut and it had been my experience not infrequently, shears were easier to use than a knife.


The pick up was the very popular silver color and in the moonlight looked like the ghost of GMC. Working methodically, I opened all the doors, which turned on the cab lights and just stared at it. And then I saw what I knew would be there and had a use; Behind the front seats were two brief cases just as I knew there would be. Our guests were not the sort to really let go, relax, not bring business with them and so they hadn’t. Because the truck was so new there was virtually nothing else in it that was of interest but I had my trophy and knew what I’d do with it.


Back in the house, Pepper and I went through the contents finding about what I’d expected. Clearly what was missing was in another room with their clothes but my find, the thing I’d hoped for, was there; A camera. It was a matter of just looking back at the pictures they’d already taken to assure me I could get away with my nasty little idea. I leaned back and almost laughed. Pepper looked nonplussed as he couldn’t see anything. Suddenly I was horny as hell knowing what I was going to do so I pulled out my fattening dick, told Pepper to shuck off his britches and we’d play horsey, he could ride me home to the stable. A quick swipe with his tongue and a little spit to harden me up and he was over his target about to intercept it and flow down the hard spike until he was sitting on my lap facing me. We got naked from the waist down then made out until I shot. It was a good beginning to a great day. (No man was ever given a better present than Pepper. Even shined his steel collar and wanted a pair of matching cuffs..with attachments. I thought about something similar in a large cock ring but decided to wait until I had him pierced and inked the way I wanted him.)


Spit roasting is all well and good but it requires more physical effort than just taking a roast from the freezer, thawing it, marinating it, searing it, putting it in a pan and then to the oven. I suppose there are homes with fire places large enough to handle meat the size we had on a spit but ours wasn’t one of them. Pepper and I rolled into the room where the meat was still hanging, his hands probably dead from lack of blood and his shoulders beyond pain from being hung for that many hours. Still, he was alert which is what I wanted. Also, this morning marked the conclusion of his hunting trip which could be seen at some point in the future.


Clearly his hands were useless and had been so secured blood, if any had got through, wouldn’t be enough. Sancho showed up, scratching and holding the coffee pot in one hand and several mugs in the other. We all sat on the edge of the table by the head of his former hunting partner and sipped to get warm, to get our hearts started, to get launched into the day.


“Guys, what I want is…for him to be cut down and retied only in an X shape. Also, get the whole body off the floor so if you have to use a hook in his back to keep in up, that’s what I want. Then we’ll begin our photography session.” They looked surprised. I could hear Poker laughing, old man knew what I was going to and he already thought it was funny.


Our meat wasn’t very cooperative although a lot of the fight had been hung out of him. Not wanting him dehydrated a tube was shoved down his throat and a pint or water was put in him and then…we were about ready. I’d brought his camera in and explained that he’d already captured his trip up and their first day on it and we were going to show the rest of the trip, right up to the end frame by frame. So I took a picture of him in his X posture, showed the hook put in his back and that being attached to a point on the wall. Since this was only a still camera we had to lead the viewer through the activities so they’d fully understand what was going on. Next was a shot of his chest after it was shaved and then another showing his full body denuded. The multiple enemas to clean him out had to be demonstrated I two shots, one of the tube up his ass and the next of the outflow of clear water followed by a third which was the stuffing mixed with beer being forced into him through another tube. Couple of frames of him being coated in marinade, one or two close ups of an apple being put in his mouth and, just before we moved him outside, another medium shot of his body with his genitals followed by one after he’d been castrated and had his cock cut off. To fill in I took a picture of his buddy’s head with them already stuck in to suggest what would happen to him. To avoid being in the pictures with him there were some pauses during which things happened that the viewer didn’t see. Next up was of a pit with a low fire, a shot of him, tied up but with a spit beside him, one of him stretched out, another of the spit going in his ass and, of course, coming out his mouth. One or two of him clearly living and turning. Got some real good ones as his guts spilled out and he was bled and, finally, another of him with his chest cavity split open, still turning on the rotisserie with the fire crackling under him. Later when we took him off the spit, I’d take one last of his head after it had been cut off and then put the camera back in the brief case and the case in the truck. I knew, eventually, someone would find it. I wondered who would see it first, probably some sheriff’s deputy or similar and they’d have to tell the families that these pictures existed but….they didn’t think they’d want to see them. However, not knowing good advice, they would insist saying something dumb like “How bad can they be?”….


The day went on, after thoroughly cleaning every thing we’d touched, Pepper and I returned the vehicle to about where we’d found it, making sure it was enough off the road so you couldn’t immediately see it but clearly not concealed. And, of course, we made certain the notices they’d written out as to whom to call if there was a problem were prominently displayed then we high tailed it back. Dinner was coming up and we didn’t want to miss that. Jakey had let him cool a bit when they took him down-made easier by the spit, he could just be brought in the house on that and plunked on the butchering table. Waited a while to pull out the spit-if we took it out too fast some of the internal tissue stuck to it and that made a mess. But even just laid out before Jakey cut him up, the aroma could have drawn bees it was so sweet. Those who wanted to risk a burned finger could push on the crisp skin and find that underneath was firm, juicy flesh-I’m not ashamed to say we were all drooling about then, the smell of man meat making us hungry and horny; Looking around at the guys, wasn’t one that wasn’t sporting a tent pole in their britches.


Dinner was delicious. He was a good sized piece of meat and all we had was a rump roast and two thighs and that filled everyone. Leaning back, with some of my men, Jakey and I told them some of the details of the hunt and a couple of them said maybe tomorrow or the day after they’d go after some hunters themselves; While they were out there was the best time to cull the herd and bring ’em in for the winter. No point in running low. Once, Poker told me, they’d been reduced to waylaying the UPS truck but…that was done in desperation and, besides, the UPS guys were generally a bit tough from running to and from doors all day. It was kind of the same with joggers; If they were miles from town you knew they were hard core, were all stringy muscle, no meat on their tail, better ground up as bone meal for the spring garden. In short, we were contented, well fed, food to snack on if you felt like it and a whole butchered meat in the freezer for whenever we wanted. I hoped someone had the ambition to make sausage tonight as I had my taste buds set on sausage gravy and biscuits next morning.



Winter came easily but up here it was cold. The ground froze, baths in the horse troughs were still great but you had to fight your way through the steam to get to them. Hunting was going well, Sancho and Rich had a run of luck when the found an SUV upside down with four guys all unconscious but none of ’em under 200 pounds. Simple matter to pull them out, tie them down and bring ’em home. There were the usual screams, the yells when they came to and found themselves in what was suddenly a production line butchery but it provided meat for a good long time. We could all lay back, enjoy life, enjoy the difference between the warm fire inside and the cold outside.


At night I lay by Pepper and thought about the future, what mine was, how to care for the pups, how to get one or two new ones. Then I took to stall walking, one problem to resolve and one night I did. I’d missed something and went to get it.


Poker was sitting up in his huge bed, alone as he often was anymore, didn’t even look up when I came in.


“I been expectin’ you. What took you so long? I guess I know what you want…”

“Yeah, bout so and I’m not happy for a lot a reasons. But that’s the nature of the beasts, you know that…”

“Yeup, cain’t never have two stallions in the same box, they’d kill each other.” He paused. “You got it figgered out? Spect you do.”

“Yeah, all worked out in my mind but there’s something else…” I looked at him in the dim light. “…only you can do it for me”.

He laughed his sneaky old man laugh, tossed back the covers and jerked his head meaning for me to get over there. He was still smiling broadly when I crawled in and went straight for his cock, wanted to get it good and hard.

“You want it the hard way I spect?”

I just nodded. He fooled around under the bed, pulled out the box with cuffs, manacles, hooks, chain.

“On your knees Bullet.”


In the end he had me chained to the bed post, a gag in my mouth, my eyes covered, hooks in my nipples that were attached to a chain that he was going to use as reins. Made me take out my teeth and a hard bit with points on it went in and he held the controls to that as well. Ankles both manacled and chained…then he came at me first with the whip and then with his cock. I could feel the blood drip down from the slashes that would mark me and never go away fall on the tops of my calves, felt the tip of the whip crack on my biceps and his nails pulled into my breasts as he fucked me harder than ever. I knew he was finished when he fell away, worn out. Finally had to give up, all his seed in me, nothing left. He let me hang by my nipples and nuts until he could rouse himself and then softly took me down, let me fall on his bloodied bed and rest.


An hour went by. I could get up, move and, both of us naked, we went down the hall, through the room with just the embers of fire and onto the cold porch.


“Yeah, here. Wanted you to see the whole thing.”

“Over the saw horse?”

“No, man to man, face to face.” And then he knew.

“Holy Jesus, I never ate a man raw but…that’s the best way for this isn’t it. Just…let me linger to watch you do it. Ain’t much meat so watch where you bite…”


I had in my teeth that were made to tear and chew raw meat. He was ready, always had been, this was the ultimate end for a former Alpha, to be eaten alive and raw by his successor. To honor his wishes, I started in on places that wouldn’t cause too much blood but finally there weren’t any other places. He was staggering and his blood was beginning to flow freely. I leaned down, tore off his ball sac and put it in his mouth. He choked and was almost at the end. Holding him, with blood running down both of us. “Old man, I did it out here so when I tear of your cock, it’ll freeze and tomorrow I’ll have it made into a dildo. I think he tried to laugh but the blood in his throat choked him. Looking straight at him, I reached down and tore off his cock then pulled him down so I could continue to feed. Even after he’d been dead for an hour I was still pulling bits of meat off…kept warm by my own ferocity.


Later that morning when the guys were moving they found the carcass, almost completely torn apart in my Alpha rage to protect my type and nothing was said. Each of them wondered who would come along to take me down and would they have the balls to eat me alive? They knew it would not be one of them, no Alpha ever really comes from the pack but is someone the pack completely accepts.


Pepper brought me coffee in bed and tried to wash my back but I refused. That was my final gift from Poker, my whipping marks, proud of them, too because of the man who laid them on me and partly because it secured my position, I was Alpha, no question.


Some days later I shoved his cock, now mounted and harder than it had been in life up my ass and smiled at all the memories. I licked my lips and remembered him most of all. Hoped I’d taste as good to the next Alpha but….that was a long time away.



Beach Party   By: Gay Slavemeat


I enjoy writing and reading gay snuff stories, and I like to imagine an awesome world run by Alpha Males, where torture and snuff of guys like me would be routine.  In that world environmental issues are addressed, nations are at peace, prosperity is the norm, and there is a positive, stable social order.  That’s because a select group of Alpha Males achieve total dominance, with a large beta class of citizens who live productive, fulfilling, but somewhat controlled lives.  Supporting both groups would be a vast, disposable class of male slaves.  We would be naked animals assigned dangerous and degrading tasks to support the needs and desires of our Alpha and beta class owners. Our bodies would be tortured, used sexually, and destroyed at the whims of our masters, with zero limits on what is done to us or what we are ordered to do.  Gladiatorial contests among us are far more brutal and fatal than ancient Rome, providing entertainment and releasing tensions that otherwise might lead to conflict among citizens.  Medicine would advance rapidly with us as experimental lab animals that would be plentiful and totally disposable.  Our pathetic lives would comprise only pain and humiliation and would mean nothing; our bodies ultimately would be food, turned to shit in the bellies of our masters as befits our status.  We would be bred and trained to understand that this is what we deserve.


But this would not all happen at once, and this story is about a time prior to creation of the Alpha Utopia, when they are organizing outside public view. Sadly, it’s all fiction, including names of characters.



The Beach Drive


Matt was a sex slave, and today was the last day of his life.  His owner rand master, Jim Fletcher, had decided to destroy and dispose of one of his possessions and expected Matt to cooperate fully in the process.  That was not a problem for Matt.  He understood his status as property and his purpose as a sex toy, and he was completely on board with whatever his owner desired.  He knew torturing, humiliating, and snuffing him would be fun for Jim and the other participants, since Matt was remarkably good looking – a 23-year-old specimen of prime man meat that was shaped perfectly and in perfect shape. He had a surfer’s build, with a trim waist and nicely formed pecks that highlighted his smooth, hairless chest. He had small, hard nipples that stood out nicely and were always tempting targets for inflicting pain when he was being used sexually. His abs were rock-hard, showing off a clearly defined six-pack of carefully maintained muscle.  Matt was very strong, with obvious definition in his arms and legs that reflected his strenuous daily workout routines and a wholesome diet of high protein dog food mixed in his dog dish with some of his master’s urine and crap toe remind him of his status.  These enabled him to endure exceptionally harsh S&M sessions.   He had a short, conservative haircut and no body hair at all, even around his crotch, which added not only to his sex appeal but to his appearance of complete nakedness and availability. It had been years since Matt had worn any clothes, and his body was evenly tanned from exposure to the warm sun on the estate where he was kept.  Yet perhaps it was his handsome, eager face and easy, willing smile that ultimately made him so appealing. Matt aimed to please, and it showed.  There was literally nothing he wouldn’t do to please Jim.  So he was excited and eager for this day, when he would add slightly to Jim’s pleasure by losing his disposable life.


As a sex slave, Matt’s most useful physical traits were his long, thick cock, his inviting bubble-butt, his insatiable gay sex drive, and his utter masochism. Matt had a bit over 11 inches of hard, reliable man muscle, and he was always ready to have it used to please another guy, especially if it meant masturbating for the other guy’s entertainment while the other guy’s cock rammed Matt’s ass.  Matt was expert at timing his orgasm to match the timing of the cock he felt inside him, realizing it was the other guy’s orgasm that mattered and watching Matt shoot a load simultaneously made that more pleasurable.    Matt’s own pleasure was irrelevant, and if he was denied the chance for his own orgasm he understood that was what he deserved.  His entire existence was focused on sex and using his body to please Jim and any other guys Jim invited to use Jim’s formerly-human sex toy.


Today Matt was truly enjoying himself. He was riding in the passenger seat of Jim’s Lamborghini convertible, racing over 120 miles per hour down a beautiful beach-front highway. The day was warm, about 75 degrees with a slight breeze. The view was spectacular, with vistas of mountains on one side and a wide sandy beach on the other. Jim was a very competent driver, so Matt didn’t worry about the excessive speeds down the narrow, winding road. The speed added to the thrill.


Matt was naked, of course. It would be inappropriate for him to wear clothes, other than a slave collar and a cock ring he usually wore in public to clarify his status. (They were each electrified, with a phone app Jim could use to zap Matt to enhance his humiliation and add a little entertaining pain for everyone to enjoy.)  On this occasion Jim had instructed him to refrain from putting on a seat belt, since it impeded a tiny bit of his view of Matt’s body. His master’s slightest pleasure was far more important than Matt’s safety, after all, so that made perfect sense. If Matt were thrown from the car and killed, it was hardly a big deal other than inconveniencing Jim somewhat as he secured a replacement slave for the day’s fun. In fact, as Jim had pointed out, he didn’t want that to happen.  Jim had tested whether it would be entertaining on another slave whose sexual performance Jim found boring.  Jim had instructed the slave to jump out of the car and kill himself.  The slave apologized for his poor performance and did as instructed.  Watching the body in the rear-view mirror as it bounced onto the road, cracking its spine and breaking arms and legs, wasn’t as entertaining as Jim had hoped.  Even when he watched the satellite video later he didn’t get much of a turn-on from the scene.  (For Jim’s protection his car was always in view when he drove out of the family estate.)  But he backed up to where the body stopped and positioned the dying slave on the hood of the car, boring its flesh and exposing its ass for Jim to fuck.  Jim did enjoy that part, reaching orgasm as the animal convulsed and died, its ass nicely tightening around Jim’s cock in the process.  But Jim had decided the experiment wasn’t all that successful and hadn’t thrown any slaves out since then – glad he had wasted only a few minutes of his time and a useless slave on the effort.  Besides, Matt knew Jim had other plans for him, although he didn’t know any details.


Jim was also naked. But that was by choice – he liked being naked and spent most of his time that way. Since Jim’s family owned the beaches they were driving by, and the mountains, he could do what he wanted. In fact, they were on a huge private island they owned that was not far from Hawaii, and there were no rules except what Jim and his dad decided. The island was not part of any country, or shown on any maps, so their decisions were the law – the only law.  Matt understood that too, realizing it was the way things should be.


Both Matt and Jim had erect penises, but Jim’s was simply aroused while Matt’s was positively throbbing. The excitement from the time and attention he was getting today was more than he could imagine.


The ride was a nostalgic return to old times in many ways.  Jim and Matt had known each other since they were in high school together.  Their bodies intensely turned each other on sexually and always had.  It was hardly unusual for them both to have a hard-on when they were together.  But today was special.  Matt wanted Jim to have a great day that Jim would remember, and Matt was determined to do his best to help make it happen. It was Jim’s 25th birthday and Jim’s dad was throwing Jim a big beach party not only to celebrate the birthday but also to celebrate Jim’s officially announced role as his dad’s heir and successor in the family business.  The fact Jim had chosen to have just the two of them drive to the party meant everything to Matt.


“Are you excited for the beach party?” Jim asked. Another part of Matt’s joy came from Jim telling him they could converse during the ride as if they were friends – as they had been in high school, rather than Matt being required to speak only when asked a question, as befit his status as Jim’s property.


“Extremely – can’t you tell?” teased Matt, pointing at his pulsating cock.  “I just hope it’s all you want it to be. I want you to have a wonderful birthday party.  And I’ll do everything I can to help make it so.”


“Yes, you will. You’ve been well trained, so I think you’ll perform OK. After all, you’ve had five years to prepare., since you officially became my piece-of-shit slave.  And a lot of conditioning before that.”


“Is there anything special you want me to do?”


“Not really.  I always enjoy hearing you scream with pain, so feel free to do so until you lose your voice.  I have arranged everything so you’ll not have any opportunity to fuck up.  I want to maximize the fun and entertainment, and that has implications on what will be done to you.  I set limits for others of no permanent damage for sex sessions in the past, but there won’t be any this time other than me directing or performing the actual kill.  Before then I suspect these will get ripped off and I will probably want to eat those while they’re still attached to you.  But that’ll be fairly minor pain compared to some of the ideas I’ve got in mind.”  As he spoke, Jim had reached over and twisted Matt’s hard left nipple and then crunched his balls.  Matt grimaced with the pain but got the point.


“Of course.  I hope you really crank up the pain and humiliation, so I can provide a lot of fun for you and your friends.  I especially hope you’ll take your time if you decide to eat me alive.  That looks like an extremely painful way to die and I know how much you enjoy cutting fresh meat from a live slave to eat raw.”


“Not to worry.  I’ve always thought you’d make an especially tasty meal, and I plan to keep you alive while I enjoy it.  Carving up a guy and eating him while he watches is an amazing turn-on no matter how often I do it.  I’ve even increased your body-fat ratio a little so you’ll be a bit more flavorful.  You may have noticed your dog dish has had fruit juice rather than the usual piss for the last few weeks, which also should add to the flavor.  Your replacement will get the usual dog food mixed with piss and shit tomorrow, but the shit will be the last remnant of you – in your most appropriate form. I think that will be kind of a nice way to introduce your replacement to his ultimate fate.”


“That’s really nice.  Thanks.  I like the idea of me being useful even after your belly turns me into crap.  I figured I’d just be hamburger and fertilizer like the usual disposal of slave circuses.  And I did notice the change in diet and guessed that was the reason.  I also noticed the solid portion wasn’t flavored with the usual human shit.  I know I deserve to drink piss and eat shit, but I can imagine that would adversely affect the flavor of my meat, so I’m glad you have planned ahead as usual.  Besides, I still got to drink a lot of your piss during the day.  Being a live urinal is such an appropriate use for me, and quite an honor.  After all, drinking piss was the first training you gave me, even before I became your slave.”  Remembering their early years got both young men trading stories, and Matt started to reminisce.


“In addition to my early training, I also recall the first time we jerked off together and how pissed you were when you realized my cock was longer than yours,” teased Matt.


Jim smiled and touched an app on his cell phone.  Matt jerked and screamed as a massive amount of pain ran through his body from an electrified dildo Jim had rammed up his ass before they got in the car   Mat was caught totally by surprise and lurched upward so much he almost fell out of the seat.


“Anything else you want to brag about?” Jim asked, laughing at the scene and enjoying Matt’s pain. “I bet if I left my little toy on very long you’d bounce around enough to actually fall out of the car.  You’re lucky I find that boring and anyway you don’t deserve to get off’d that easy.”  With that Jim again touched the app and the pain stopped.


“I guess not,” responded Matt, also laughing and pleased Jim was enjoying himself at Matt’s expense.  “That’s quite the little toy you’ve got there. You should be able to have a lot of fun with it.”


“I plan to.  I have several of them, so a bunch of you slaves will be bouncing around as my guests play with them.


“And, for the record, it’s not your cock any more.  When I acquired you as my property I got everything, including the accessories.  I just let you use the cock since I enjoy watching you jerk off.   I might just have to slice it into pieces today to train you in humility.”


“Of course it’s yours,” said Matt, quite sincerely but quickly returning to teasing mode.  “I’m your property and you can do whatever you want with me.  For example, if you wanted a little more length in your personal manhood, you could cut it off and use it to replace the little one currently attached to you.  When you own several cocks, you get to choose the one that’s the biggest.    Maybe that way at least part of me could still be of service after you snuff me.”


The teasing earned Matt another, somewhat longer, jolt of electricity but it was worth it.  Jim smiled at Matt and once again laughed at his gyrations but didn’t respond.  He enjoyed the banter, which reminded him of their high school days, when they compared cock sizes like high school males are prone to do.  Matt’s mind also wandered, thinking back to when he first met Jim.



Fond Memories

Matt was a freshman in high school when he was approached by Jim. Matt was unusually good looking, and Jim, a sophomore, had taken an interest in him, allowing Matt to tag along with Jim and his friends.   In due course, Jim became captain of the football team, being a quarterback of exceptional drive and talent. Matt, meanwhile, turned out to be a great wide receiver.  Both boys were top students and stunningly handsome and fit.  But Matt was an extreme introvert and a nerd, with zero self-esteem, while Jim was extremely popular and outgoing, with tons of friends and an exceptionally dominant personality.  Part of the popularity was because Jim was so wealthy – clearly the wealthiest guy in school, although no one knew how much he had or even what his family did. They just knew other kids didn’t get picked up on a regular basis in a stretch limo after school, and they weren’t rumored to own an island estate in addition to a mansion in town.  That was a total contrast to Matt, who was an orphaned foster kid – no family, no money, and no one who gave a shit about him.


Jim was Matt’s only friend, and he invited Matt to hang out after school with Jim and his buddies. The other guys were also older than Matt, so they ignored him. However, Jim was nice to him. That got Matt’s loyalty, but he had no idea why Jim would have any interest in him. Why would a guy like Jim be nice to a guy like Matt – a sophomore to a freshman, a rich kid to a poor kid, a popular kid to a nobody?


Most of the time was spent with Jim’s buddies playing sports on the beach near their school. The Southern California weather was always perfect, and the guys would go surfing, swimming, or play volleyball or football.


Everyone took off most of their clothes and Matt could look at the other guys’ handsome bodies.  Matt was gay and this turned him on, but he was afraid to reveal that fact. He enjoyed the contact with nearly naked young male flesh and had fun playing sports at the same time. Being proud, fit young males, and since one of the beaches was “clothing optional,” the guys often stripped naked, starting with Jim.  What Jim did tended to be what everyone did.  These were the days Matt enjoyed best. He was good at sports, better than most of the other guys (except Jim) even though he was slightly younger.  But it didn’t matter whether Matt was talented or not, since Jim insisted that Matt be allowed to play.  Jim was always in charge.


After the games and fun, the other guys typically went on their way to their fancy homes, and Matt made the long walk to the house where he lived with his foster father, who usually wasn’t home.  The house itself was very nice, but Matt was confined to an unfinished room in the basement that was tiny, damp, and smelly.  Often there wasn’t even enough food, sine Matt was only permitted to eat leftovers, and when his “dad” was home he would berate Matt no matter what he did, telling him what a worthless person he was and that he didn’t deserve even the poor conditions he lived in.  It didn’t matter Matt was a top student and athlete, overcoming all the odds against him.  Nothing could please this foster parent.  It was only the great times with Jim and his buddies that made the rest of his life tolerable.


One afternoon, near the end of Mat’s freshman year, Jim had approached Matt as the group was breaking up, after a vigorous game of naked beach volleyball on an especially hot day.


“Would you like to head to my place? You could shower up there and we could watch a movie or something.  My dad’s out of town and I know where he keeps the beer.”


Matt was thrilled. He wanted to spend as much time with Jim as possible. Not only had Jim befriended him, but Jim was the best-looking guy of the bunch.  Matt was glad they had gone to the nude beach that day, but realized his cock was getting a little hard at the mere prospect of being with Jim.  After all, by this time Matt was just 17 and that’s what happens to 17-year old cocks.


“Sure. That would be great!”


“Good. Our house is right up the road from here, just a short walk.  Since we’re so sweaty, and it’s a private path, I suggest we just stay naked until after we’ve cleaned up.”


“Super,” was all Matt could say, now seriously worried about his growing cock and utterly turned on at the prospect.  He walked slightly behind Jim, so the growing erection wouldn’t be so apparent.  But seeing Jim’s gorgeous backside wasn’t helping.


Matt had heard about the mansion but didn’t realize it was on the beach. He was once again impressed, but not in the least jealous.  Jim clearly deserved everything he had.  And Matt’s foster parent had made it clear to Matt that he deserved the poverty and deprivation he endured.


Matt always remembered how wonderful that first evening had turned out to be. They had each showered, with Jim letting Matt go first. As he heard Matt turn off the water, Jim walked in.  Jim was still naked, and Matt was once again transfixed by Jim’s exceptional body. Matt hoped Jim didn’t see the major erection that Matt got as a result, but Jim could hardly miss it.


“I gather you enjoyed the shower,” Jim laughed, pointing at Matt’s cock. “That’s not a bad piece of meat you’ve got sticking out there.”


Matt was embarrassed, but somehow also even more excited. He hadn’t been naked like this in front of another guy – it wasn’t the same as gym class and that sort of thing, or even the nude sports on the beach.  Worse yet, his cock was dripping a little pre-cum.


“I’m sorry.  I got to thinking about some of the girls at the beach, and I couldn’t help myself,” Matt lied.


“Sure. Don’t worry. That happens to me a lot too.  It’s how guys in high school are supposed to react to scantily clad girls watching us play sports nude, right?  And my cock’s not exactly all shriveled up.”  Jim didn’t have an erection, but his nice long cock hung down a fair way between his legs.


“I guess so.” Matt was relieved. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to let on that he was gay, and especially not to let on that Jim was getting him sexually excited.


“Well, let me take my shower, and then let’s grab some beers, some food, and see what we’ve got to watch. Do you still feel like doing a movie?”


“Yeah. I think that would be fun.”


“Great. You can look through the collection and see what you’d like.  I’ve got some great beach movies, if you want to keep enjoying pretty girls with not much on.


“Incidentally, I noticed your clothes were pretty dirty, since you tossed them into some mud when you stripped, which was kind of stupid.  I gave them to one of the servants to wash. They’ll be ready in a couple of hours. You can either put on something from my closet, or just stay naked. Either way is OK by me.”


“I don’t want to mess up your stuff,” Matt replied, liking the idea of being naked around Jim. “I’ll just wait. And thanks for getting my stuff washed.  My foster dad won’t let me use the clothes washer, so I go to the laundromat and pay for it with money I earn.  He says it will build my worthless character.  I don’t have enough money to do that at the moment, so I really appreciate you getting them cleaned.  I didn’t realize I’d tossed them in mud, and he’d yell at me a lot for that.”


“My pleasure.  So you won’t be uncomfortable, I’ll stay naked too.” Then Jim went into the shower, with Matt still watching him. Matt realized he might be staring, and quickly left the bathroom.


The two boys spent the rest of the afternoon and the evening sharing a great dinner prepared by the house staff, enjoying a few beers, and watching a movie, never bothering to get dressed.  It was an old beach film about teens in love with lots of surfing scenes and pretty much everyone in bathing suits all the time.  Matt loved it, since the girls provided an excuse for him still having a hard on as they watched.  Sitting next to Jim with both of their bodies fully revealed was an amazing turn-on and the real reason for the consistent erection.  And, as Jim had noted earlier, it wasn’t like Jim’s cock was all shriveled up.


That afternoon started what became a routine whenever Jim’s schedule permitted it.  It wasn’t all that frequent at first but increased a lot during Matt’s sophomore year. After the group of Jim’s friends played sports on the beach, now almost always using the nude beach, Jim and Matt would walk to Jim’s house, clean up, get beer and food, and plop down on a sofa to be entertained from Jim’s extensive collection of DVDs. They would watch movies that featured guys who were shirtless and well built along with scantily clad girls. And after their showers the routine included Jim having servants wash Matt’s clothes.  Matt was grateful that Jim had taken pity on him for his plight of not having access to a clothes washer.  But more importantly he loved the fact they watched the movies naked.  For Matt, these were the greatest experiences of his life. Indeed, it was the only time he’d ever really had things go well for him.  It never dawned on him that Jim was subtly maneuvering him and slowly starting Matt’s training.  Jim even pretended to complain that his dad wouldn’t let him have sex with any of his girlfriends, so he needed to masturbate instead, inviting Matt to do the same if he’d like to, while they watched the pretty girls in the movies.  Jim also added a collection of straight porn flicks to reinforce the idea.  Matt had no trouble performing given the guys in the movies, and most especially given his view of Jim’s body, especially as Jim jerked off.  They never touched each other, but the routine had quickly expanded to include mutual masturbation, albeit with Matt jerking off much more often than Jim.  Matt, of course, enjoyed that the most and never considered the possibility that Jim’s explanations were made up to get Matt comfortable having orgasms while Jim watched.  (Jim, in turn, did have to admit Matt’s cock was longer than his after they measured them.  That became an ongoing joke between them.)


It wasn’t until Matt’s junior year, while they were celebrating Matt’s 18th birthday, when Jim moved the training beyond their low-key relationship.  Jim had invited Matt over right after school to celebrate and started by offering him a beer – another consistent part of their routine.  But since there were no nude sports beforehand, both boys were still dressed.


Jim then let Matt know that there was a house rule Matt needed to know about.


“There’s something I sort of need to let you in on, which I haven’t been up front about,” Jim said, in a confidential tone. “I haven’t said anything until now, because I like hanging out with you and I have been afraid it might turn you off.”


“Are you kidding?” Matt responded. “This is the greatest time ever for me. Nothing could turn me off about hanging out here with you.  You don’t know how I live otherwise. My life sucks.”


“Interesting choice of words,” mused Jim. “But, anyway, here goes.


“As you know, I live with my dad, who is incredibly rich, and a bunch of servants. You haven’t met any of them yet, because the servants stay out of the way when we have

visitors, and you haven’t met my dad since he travels a huge amount on business and he’s good about leaving me and my buddies alone.  The servants take care of things like fixing dinner and leave it where we can get it, like they do when they wash your clothes. What you don’t know is that dad is a fervent nudist. He is always naked and insists that everyone in the house also be naked.  I’ve gotten used to it, and kind of like it. That’s why I started getting the guys to strip when we play on the beach.  Dad required the city designate that beach clothing optimal when he donated it to the city.  He’s also very generous but likes to get his way. Anyway, I didn’t want to impose that on you here and was afraid you’d get spooked if you saw a bunch of nude servants.  So I came up with the excuse of needing to have your clothes washed, which is why I took the pile you tossed the first time we came here and re-tossed it into some mud when you weren’t looking.  Making it a routine was easy once you told me you don’t have access to a clothes washer at home.  However, dad told me I must deal with the issue honestly.  And he’s returned from a long trip and might show up here. If I don’t come clean about this I’d be in trouble, and I like to please him.  He’s a great guy.”


Matt was a little taken aback, but only from surprise.  He quickly stripped off all his clothes and stood naked in front of Jim.


“No problem.  I’m naked now and will stay that way any time you want and in any place you want.  I am just hoping this doesn’t mean I don’t get access to your clothes washer.  Of course, I’m more than happy to do the washing myself so your servants don’t have to.  I’ve always felt a little guilty about that.  And I’ve discovered hanging around here that I like being naked.  In fact, my foster dad requires me to act as his servant when he has people over and insists that I do it nude.  He says it reflects how worthless I am, but I also think he likes looking at me that way.  Fortunately, he doesn’t spend much time at his house and doesn’t entertain much.  But being naked on the beach and in your house is nice.”


“Thanks,” Jim replied, also now naked.  “You won’t lose the service, and now you can get to meet some of the servants.  They’re really great guys too.”


As Matt considered this development, he admired how Jim had maneuvered things.  That alone was a turn-on for Matt.  He began to realize the extent to which Jim had always been in charge, and he liked it.  He was quite content to let Jim make all the decisions.  But he did tell Jim he felt he should do the washing, since he didn’t think someone else should be burdened with serving him (reflecting his extremely low self-esteem).  Jim agreed, pleased with Matt’s perspective.  That boded well for their future.


Then Jim revealed another surprise to Matt.


“There’s something else I think we should be honest about. And I think we should cover it before you turn even older – or start to get drunk.”  Jim had handed Matt a second beer and got another one for himself as well.


Matt laughed. “Yeah, once you’re 18 it’s all downhill from there. After all, look at you. You’re almost 19 and practically in a nursing home.”


“Exactly,” responded Jim, also laughing and taking a healthy swig form his beer. “I’d hate to check in without having had some real sex first. I don’t think you should run that risk either.  And just masturbating like we’ve been doing doesn’t count.  I had a long talk with my dad a while back and it’s OK with him.”


That took Matt completely by surprise. He didn’t say anything, but simply stared at Jim, afraid this meant Jim was going to end their sessions to have sex with one of his girlfriends.  As he did so, he was startled to see Jim’s cock starting to get hard. That had happened before, of course, when they were masturbating and watching pretty girls in the porn flicks.  But this seemed different to Matt, and he also started to get excited.


“Look, Matt. I know you’re gay. I’ve known it for a long time – sure of it since we were first hanging out on the beach. I could see you staring at me and at the other guys, and I’ve noticed how you get erections all the time when the other guys are around and when we’re naked together.  I could hardly miss that giant hard-on you got when I first invited you to hang out with me and we walked naked together to the house from the beach.  It isn’t girls you’re thinking of, is it?  It’s guys, especially me.”


Matt was still silent. He didn’t know what to say. Would Jim throw him out?  Was he being dismissed because he was gay? But why was Jim getting hard?  Matt was scared, confused, and somehow sort of excited all at once.  He started to tear up.


“It’s not a problem.”  Jim realized Matt was starting to freak out.  “What I’m trying to tell you, you amazingly dense idiot, is that I’m gay too. That’s why I’m getting a hard-on right now. I’m thinking of how much fun it would be if you sucked my cock.”


Matt couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Could his fantasy come true?  Would this marvelous episode in his life – the only decent one – get even better? He finally responded.


“Wow. I had no idea. I guess I am a dense idiot – but I already knew that.  You’re right. I am gay.  And you really turn me on. The erections we laughed about were always because I’m sitting here next to you and I can see your body.  You’re the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen, and your cock is awesome, even if a little short.”  Matt couldn’t help teasing Jim, which relieved some of the tension.


“Thanks. And it’s long enough to go all the way down your throat.  So, have you had sex with another guy before?”


At this point Matt hesitated, stammered, and finally broke down crying.  He told Jim about the horrible things his foster father had done to him, sexually and otherwise, forcing him to suck cock and masturbate to entertain everyone at his parties.  He had already told Jim about having to serve them naked, but now added that he was required to do so with an erection for them to laugh at, and to wear a slave collar.  His foster father knew he was gay and used that as part of the reason he was so worthless and deserving of ridicule and deprivation.  It was all totally illegal, but Matt was too scared to say anything.  He had never mentioned any of it to anyone, and as he finished his confessions, Jim held him as he sobbed in Jim’s arms.  It was the first loving embrace Matt could remember ever receiving.  He soon recovered, however, and apologized to Jim for losing control.  He then asked Jim if this meant Jim would not want to be with him, given what Matt had done.  Like many underage victims, Matt had reacted to the experiences with a strong sense of personal guilt, in his case strongly reinforced by his foster parent.  After Jim assured Matt there was no reason for him to feel guilty, and this was no problem for Jim or their relationship, Matt asked if Jim had had any sex with other guys before.


“Yup. Lots and lots of times. Dad figured out that I’m gay as soon as I hit puberty, and it’s OK with him. It turns out he’s gay too. He makes sure all the servants also are young, gay, and good looking. That way our household is sort of one big male fuck party. I get to fuck any of the servants I want and have them suck my cock. But I don’t let them fuck my ass, and I’m glad that hasn’t happened to you either.  I like to do the fucking, and I haven’t slept alone for years.  If you want, and when I think you’re ready, I’ll introduce you to the joys of being butt-fucked.  Dad’s only rule is that he gets to pick first among the staff for his own fun.  They’re all both remarkably sexy and fixated on gay sex, so that’s not much of a limitation.”


Matt was now fully back in control of himself but completely astonished. He had never even imagined such a place could exist. This was clearly too good to be true.


“So,” continued Jim, who was now fully erect and smiling broadly. “About my cock . . . ”


Matt didn’t need another hint and he didn’t waste any time. His experiences hadn’t been good, but he knew what to do.  He gently took hold of Jim’s manhood and knelt in front of him as Jim settled into the couch, and then lovingly took the young hard cock into his mouth. Matt caressed the beautiful muscle with his tongue, focusing on the glans, licking all around the corona and especially the lower skin of the shaft just behind it. Matt knew that was where it was the most pleasurable to touch himself to masturbate, and he figured that would be a good place to lick to get Jim off.  What he didn’t tell Jim was that the best techniques for giving a blow job was the only thing his foster parent had ever bothered to teach him.  His technique would be evaluated and discussed at the parties and he would be punished if it was found wanting – which it always was.


Jim’s body began to sway a bit, and he let out a soft moan of pleasure.


“Wow. You’re really good at sucking cock. You’ve got talent, my boy.”


Matt kept to his task, enjoying it far more than he had ever even fantasized that he could. His own cock was now literally throbbing and leaking pre-cum from sexual excitement.  But the focus was on Jim.


After a while, Jim’s body began to gyrate, his breathing intensified, and his cock exploded. A massive

load of cum erupted into Matt’s mouth. Matt swallowed it all, hungrily and eagerly. He didn’t even consider having Jim withdraw and shoot outside Matt’s mouth. Matt wanted Jim’s man-juice. And he continued to lick the streaming cock as it emptied it load down his throat, intensifying Jim’s pleasure.


Jim finally stopped shooting his load, and his cock drooped a bit, but not much.  Jim took it out of Matt’s mouth, sighing with pleasure.


“That was just fucking amazing. I think that’s the best blow job I’ve ever had and the biggest load I’ve ever shot.  You really got me turned on. I like the fact you had the good manners to swallow it all, too. Thanks a lot.”


“You’re welcome,” was the sincere response. “I’ll do that any time you want.  Just let me know. And let me know if you want to try other stuff too, or how I can do better to please you.  Whenever you decide you want to fuck my ass, it’s yours to use as you want.”


“I will. But it looks like you’re about to shoot too.  Do you want to shoot a load to land on my chest? That would be fun to watch, and then you could lick it up.”


Matt was delighted with the offer.  He instinctively knew that it was his job to service Jim, not the other way around. That was perfectly fine, the way things should be.  He wanted to get himself off in front of his friend, if that was something Jim wanted him to do. So Matt positioned himself, kneeling on the couch over Jim while Jim lay on his back, watching the show.  It didn’t take Matt long to shoot – he was sexually excited as he had never been before. Matt shot a nice load onto Jim’s smooth chest and belly. Then, per Jim’s instructions, Matt licked up his own cum.  As he worked his way down Jim’s chest to his belly and crotch, he saw that Jim’s cock was once again fully erect.  So after a nod from Jim he again took it in his mouth and again massaged Jim to orgasm.  The second load wasn’t as huge, but it was still decent, and Matt enjoyed swallowing that too.  Jim lay back on the couch, utterly satisfied.  That’s what pleased Matt the most.


The boys decided to clean up, but this time they showered together. Matt washed Jim’s wonderful skin, then washed himself. Matt was once again hard, turned on by touching Jim. What Matt hadn’t realized yet was that he was also turned on by the fact he was serving Jim.  And since Jim didn’t suggest Matt jerk off again, the idea never occurred to Matt to give himself added sexual relief.  His sexual energy kept him nice and hard, more fun for Jim to look at.


The boys got some dinner and watched another movie.  This time dinner was brought to them by a naked stud servant – Dennis – who was himself a complete turn-on with an impressive erection.  Before they ate Jim asked Dennis to give Matt a blow job.  Jim also had Dennis position himself so Jim could fuck his ass as Dennis sucked off Matt.   Dennis eagerly obliged both requests, seriously turned on by Matt’s body and eager to host Jim’s cock.  Matt was amazed and grateful for Jim’s thoughtfulness in letting Matt get a blow job for the first time ever, especially from such a great-looking stud.  After Jim and Matt shot their loads, Matt offered to suck off Dennis, if that was OK with Jim.  Dennis soon sent a nice load down Matt’s throat.  It was a fantastic turn—on for all three of them, but especially for Matt.  He had never had a birthday party at all, let alone one like this!


Then, to continue the fun, it was movie time.  Jim showed Matt another set of movie choices.


“We don’t have to pretend any more.   These are all gay porn flicks. The guys are naked, fucking and sucking each other. I think we’ll like these better.  Dad bought a studio so he could have very high-quality porn with scenes he likes.  It was worth every penny, and I get to make suggestions too.”


Matt was in complete agreement. He looked at the selection – it was huge. Best of all, it included a variety of kinds of gay movies. Some were just of guys jerking off. Some had orgies, others were gang bangs. And some showed guys being restrained, engaged in S&M scenes. Jim seemed to have a whole lot of that kind.


“What looks good to you,” asked Jim. “Since you did such a nice job on my cock, and it’s your birthday, I’ll let you pick our first gay porn flick that we watch together.”


“Well, these all look pretty exciting,” said Matt, holding up a box that showed a young dude being whipped. “But I’ve never seen any S&M stuff.  How about one of these? They look particularly interesting.”


“They are,” agreed Matt. “You’ve made a good choice.  It’s got scenes with that guy getting gang-fucked while he’s being whipped.”  So, aided by a few more beers courtesy of Dennis, they greatly enjoyed Matt’s first S&M gay porn film.


After the movie Jim commented:  “When I saw it the first time, I liked it so much I had dad track down the guy and we invited him over to the estate for a fun weekend to celebrate my own 17th birthday.  He’s the first guy I personally got to flog.  The coolest part was that he wanted to be flogged.  Some guys get into that big time, so it’s a turn-on for everyone.  We did lots of other things to him, which were also a lot of fun.  Dad told me what to try and it was quite an education for me and for our guest.  Dad had paid him a very generous fee, and he was willing to push his limits a lot.  It turned out the guy had been in trouble with the law and dad got that straightened out for him. So he was doubly grateful and eager to show it.  He did everything we wanted him to do.  On the last night of the weekend he even joined us for dinner and everyone celebrated and toasted the events.   Dad had one of the studio crews film it, so I’ve got a great move I can show you sometime.”


Matt asked Jim if they could watch the home movies now, but Jim said they were at the estate, so they’d have to settle for what he had at the house.  But he had a lot. Dennis fetched another round, and Jim and Matt watched a second S&M movie that was even more severe.  As they watched it, both boys once again got excited, their naked bodies finally touching as they groped and kissed each other while they rolled around on the large sofa, any inhibitions cast aside in a mixture of lust and alcohol. In due course, after Matt had kissed every part of Jim’s amazing body, Jim guided Matt’s mouth back to his cock. The third load that filled Matt’s mouth was still impressive. Matt then added to the movie entertainment by popping another load and licking it up for Jim’s viewing pleasure.


This time Jim had instructed him to shoot on the wooden floor.  That way Matt was down on all fours as he used his tongue to do the clean-up, which gave Jim a nice view of how Matt looked doggie-style. He wasn’t disappointed, and when he commented on Matt’s position Matt added to the laughter by barking for Jim’s amusement, then kneeling doggie style and begging for more cum.


“You’ve drained me completely,” Jim laughed.  “I’m all out of cum for now, but I’ll be needing to get rid of a bunch of piss with all these beers.”


The second movie not only had a lot of gangbang fucking and flogging, it also had some water sports, as the gang-bangers unloaded their piss down the guy’s throat and then made him lick their cocks clean.  Jim noticed Matt seemed interested in those scenes too.  Jim decided to find out a bit more about how “flexible” Matt really was.


“I like the scenes where a guy pisses down another guy’s throat,” Jim confided. “I know people think it’s gross, but It can be a genuine turn-on for both guys.  Some of our servants like it too, and a few, like Dennis, can take my whole load without dripping any of the piss.”


“Really?” asked Matt, his education continuing. “Can a guy really drink that much? Don’t they choke on all that piss?”


Jim was pleased with the answer. Matt wasn’t resistant or turned off.  He just wanted information.


“No. Some guys are talented at it, like the guy in the movie. How about if we find out if you’re one of them? I do need to pee, and could have Dennis come back in, but, after all, you’re right here.” Jim laughed, easing the tension he was afraid Matt would feel.


But Matt felt no tension at all. He simply got on his knees once again and opened his mouth. Jim let loose a major load of beer-flavored piss, using Matt as a human urinal. To Jim’s surprise, Matt successfully took the entire load on his first try, not spilling a drop.  Jim was pleased and impressed.  Realizing that Matt would also need to piss, Jim summoned Dennis once again, and Dennis was more than willing to service Matt.  Matt enjoyed that too, but admitted he preferred to be on the receiving end.  “I guess I’m more the submissive type.”  So Dennis obliged and drained a load into Matt’s willing mouth.  All three boys had a great time as Matt learned more and more about himself.


Jim asked Matt if he’d like to stay the night, and of course Matt said yes.  Jim explained that he had already chosen Dennis to sleep with and once again butt-fuck, but there was room in the bed for all three of them. He suggested that Matt could suck Dennis’ cock while Jim fucked his ass. Matt was always welcome to shoot a load any time he wanted, so long as Jim could watch him do it, including watching Matt lick up the cum.  Or, if it was OK with Dennis, Matt’s load could go down Dennis’s throat.   So that’s exactly what they did. It was the first of many nights together, with Jim selecting the third (and often the fourth) companion form among the servants.   Matt would be “available” in Jim’s bed for the servants Jim selected, and Matt quickly became quite expert at sucking cock.  Jim, in turn, enjoyed watching Matt jerk off onto the servant’s chest, or on the floor, and then lick up the cum. If Jim sucked off one of the guys and had him shoot a load on Jim’s chest, Matt licked up that cum too.  Jim would usually butt-fuck the servant, but he also liked to have Matt suck his cock, and often had Matt clean it after shooting into the servant’s asshole, usually followed by draining a load of Jim’s piss.  Matt also received great blow jobs form the servants, but mostly just did everything Jim requested, or even hinted at.  As Matt realized Jim didn’t get as much satisfaction when Matt shot down another guy’s throat rather than pumping out his load where he could then lick it up, Matt consistently did the latter.  He wanted to please Jim.


Matt functioned as a cocksucker and a urinal but was not butt-fucked.  Jim said that would wait until there was a special occasion.  Matt also was not used as an object of Jim’s fun for S&M play.  Jim enjoyed whipping the guys he fucked, as well as inflicting cock and ball torture.  It was pretty tame the first evening with Dennis but grew more intense in later visits.  Matt was very turned on by this and offered his body for Jim’s use, however he wanted to use it, but again Jim deferred “for now.”


Also, Matt was delighted and turned on to accept Jim’s morning load of piss. That would be followed by another sex scene, and if the servant also wanted to use Matt as his morning urinal, that was OK with Matt so long as Jim approved, which he always did.  Matt had naturally understood that all decisions were to be made by Jim.


Matt stayed at Jim’s house whenever he could do so, which was increasingly frequent during Jim’s senior year.  Indeed, after the first evening’s introduction to sex Matt rarely spent time at his foster home. His foster parent hardly noticed. He just cared if the checks kept coming. If Matt wasn’t around, that meant he got to keep the whole check without wasting even the small amount of money he was forced to spend on Matt.


Their time together weren’t just sex, and the two teens shared their thoughts about everything – school, life, being gay, and what they would do after high school.  They were in a sociology class together, and they enjoyed talking about the theories the teacher explained.  He had taught that slavery was wrong in the old days because it was based on race or class rather than merit.  But he explained that there were different roles and desires among people, and some were meant to lead, and enjoyed doing that, while others were meant to follow and serve.  Jim told Matt how his dad was a natural leader and expected Jim to do the same.  Jim was eager to pursue that, and after high school he’d be getting special training that would be far more intense and useful than regular college.  Matt was intrigued and glad there were people like Jim and his dad who were able to take charge.  As for himself, he had no plans and no idea what he’d do, but his foster dad consistently told him he’d probably wind up in jail since he was so worthless.  For both boys, these exchanges were a unique chance to share their deepest feelings, and they did so.  Jim even shared the fact his family actually owned slaves, who were suited to their role and completely comfortable with it.  “Like our teacher said, it would be wrong to discriminate, but it’s right to recognize roles.  On the island where we have our estate there is a small group of leaders who work with my dad.  Then there’s a much bigger group of citizens who lead great and productive lives, not burdened by having to make the tough political choices dad and his colleagues make for them.  It’s all supported by a very large group of willing slaves who are obedient and content.  They’re doing what they were born and best suited to do.  So everyone is happy and the place is like a paradise.  I’d love to show you sometime.”  To Matt this all made sense and he eagerly encouraged Jim to do so.


As the school year ended and Jim approached graduation, he invited Matt to his estate, and suggested he plan to spend a week right after classes were over. Matt had been intensely curious and hopeful he might get invited someday.  He accepted at once.


“Do I need to bring anything?” Matt asked.


“Hell, no,” came the amused reply. “Just your mouth and your cock.  And, if you’re a good boy, maybe your ass for fucking and your back for whipping.  I think it’s time we took things up a notch or two.”  Matt got the point and was now even more excited.  Jim would finally fuck his ass as he did all the other guys he had sex with and use Matt for S&M sex.  Those prospects totally turned Matt on. And he assured Jim he was ready and willing.



A Whole New World


As Matt left the building after his last day of the spring semester, which included an assembly at which he’d received one award as the best athlete in his class and a second award as the best scholar, he was still upset from events at his foster home from the prior evening.  His foster dad had gotten what would be the final support check since Matt was aging out of the foster-care system.  He informed Matt that the “gravy train” was over and Matt was no longer welcome.  He also informed Matt that he was keeping all Matt’s possessions and told him to leave now. He didn’t want a worthless piece of shit like Matt continuing to infect his house.  Matt had already stripped naked and given his foster dad a blow job, which he was now required to do to “earn” his dinner whenever he went home.  The ritual had started a year or so earlier and usually ended with Matt drinking a load of piss to follow the cum.  Matt enjoyed that at Jim’s, but here it was a degrading punishment.  Worse, this time his “dad” followed it by pissing all over Matt’s body, then holding his face down in the toilet where had had just taken a shit, leaving him with the stench and taste of piss and crap as he was forced out the door.  Matt was in tears as he had begged for some clothes and a chance to wash off, but that was met with harsh laughter, a hard kick to his balls, and a door slammed in his face.  Matt’s spirit was broken, and he stood and wept for a long time.


Matt spent the night sleeping naked on the beach, washing himself in the ocean.  A cop had arrested him early the next morning since this was not the nude beach, threatening to put him in jail.  Fortunately, the cop was willing to overlook the violation in return for a blow job, telling Matt that would be good practice for when Matt was arrested again as he certainly would be given his pathetic status.  After the cop left Matt managed to bum some money for cheap shorts, sandals, and a T-shirt to wear to school in return for giving another guy on the beach a morning blow job.  Matt realized he was now nothing more than a prostitute.  It was the worst day of all the bad days in foster care.  Matt was glad that phase was over but knew he’d have to figure out something when he returned from Jim’s estate.  He figured being a prostitute was his only viable option.


Matt was very pleased and surprised to see the sleek, impressive limo that picked up Jim waiting on the street in front of the school.  He assumed this meant Jim was nearby, and he desperately wanted to be with his friend.  The driver was Dennis, Matt’s favorite of Jim’s servants, who was standing next to the limo.  Dennis spotted Matt and signaled for him to come over.  Matt figured this meant Jim was already in the car.  But what most caught Matt’s attention was the fact Dennis was totally naked other than a sporty chauffer’s cap.  He was stroking his cock, which was already hard. What was more amazing to Matt was that no one was hassling Dennis.  There was some giggling and pointing from students, but both students and teachers left him alone.


As Matt reached the car Dennis greeted him with a friendly slap on the back.


“Master James sent me to pick you up.  He heard what happened with your foster dad and figured you’d need a little TLC and want to clean up at the house before we head to the airport.  He also thought it would be fun to put on a little scene for your fellow students and make it a “coming out” statement by you.  He thinks it would be better if you were open about the fact you’re a submissive gay.  Besides, it might balance the swollen ego you probably have after your awards.”


“Ah, sure,” was Matt’s confused reply.  Matt was nervous, mostly because no one had ever picked him up before, let alone in a limo. “I’ll do whatever Jim wants, but after last night and this morning no one needs to worry about me having an inflated ego.  What does Jim have in mind?”


“It’s pretty simple.  You start by stripping naked, putting on this slave collar, and stroking yourself to get an erection.  Then you carry your clothes to the Goodwill bin about a block down the street. Drop them in and walk back here.  That should get everyone’s attention.  When you return to the car he wants you to kneel and give me a blow job, swallowing me cum and a load of piss.  Then do the same for any other guys who want to be serviced.  After that you won’t have to hide your sexual orientation any more.  We’ll drive to the house where you can clean up and we can pick up Master James.”


“Are you sure?  What happens if I get arrested?  That’s already happened once today.  And these are the only clothes I have – my asshole foster dad took everything else.”


Dennis laughed heartily.  “Wow.  You really are as dense as Master James says you are.  Do you seriously think anyone would mess with a friend of his?  Do you have any idea just how powerful he and his dad really are, and how much they have given to the school and the city?  Why do you think everyone’s leaving me alone while I play with my dick naked and in public?  As for clothes, everyone is nude at the estate.  You’re going to visit a whole new world young man.”


Matt considered Dennis’ comments, and it all made sense.  Besides, it was what Jim wanted and that’s what mattered.  So he got naked, put on the slave collar, got hard, walked naked to the next block, dropped his clothes in the Goodwill bin, and returned to get on his knees in front of Dennis for the blow-job.  He also dropped the awards in a garbage can, thinking how pointless all his efforts at school had been.  He would leave town with absolutely nothing.


The blow job did get people’s attention, as expected, and a group of Jim’s buddies wandered over to enjoy the show, some of them stripping off their shirts and taking out their own cocks to join in.  Matt had no trouble getting Dennis off, and dutifully swallowed generous loads of cum and piss as the crowd laughed and cheered.  Dennis asked the assembled guys if anyone else was horny and wanted service, which of course they all did.  Matt got to suck off about 8 more guys, most of whom hadn’t used a human urinal before but didn’t hesitate to use Matt.  It was a popular stunt, and all the guys told Dennis to thank Jim for the entertainment.  (No one even considered thanking Matt.)  They told Matt he should spend his next and last year in school aiming for awards as “Best Cocksucker” and “Best Urinal,” instead of athletics or academics, laughing and mocking him, roughing him up with a few well-placed kicks to his nuts, and telling him to be sure to wear his new collar to school if he was stupid enough to come back, because they had a lot of torment to inflict now that his protector Jim would be gone.  The odd part to Matt was that he didn’t mind.  Being sexually used and degraded in front of an audience in public turned him on, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind providing “service” to his classmates next year.  Maybe one of them would let him stay in his house in return.  That would still be prostitution of a sort, but at least safer.


After the show was over, Dennis proceeded to open the rear door for Matt, motioning him to get in.  But that made Matt uncomfortable. He couldn’t conceive of a chauffeur taking him in a limo.  “If you promise not to crash the car when you cum, how about if I ride up front and suck your cock again while we drive to the house?  I see it’s gotten hard while I was sucking off the other guys.  I’m not the type that deserves to ride in the back of a fancy limo unless it’s to service Jim.  And, by the way, how far is it to the estate.  I have no idea.  I think you said something about an airport?”


Dennis was in a great mood and enjoyed the banter with Matt.  He agreed to let Matt sit up front until they picked up Jim.


“Master James is in no hurry, and while you suck and swallow I can answer your questions about the estate.”


Matt didn’t hesitate and leaned over to accept Dennis’ cock as Dennis started the limo.  Matt was almost as turned on by Dennis’ body as by Jim’s, but Dennis hadn’t said anything about Matt shooting his own load so he didn’t even consider that option.  As they drove Dennis explained that the estate was on a huge island near Hawaii, and they were going to fly there.


“They own the whole island, which is about the size of Manhattan, and it has its own airport.  There are hundreds of thousands of people who live there, and it’s the real headquarters of the family enterprises.  We’ll take off from the commercial airport near town, where the plane is in their private hanger.  These guys are rich beyond what anyone understands.


“I think you’ll enjoy the plane ride.  The plane is amazing, and all decked out for sex parties.  It’s a safe bet we won’t be the only ones on board, and everyone will have the same idea.  You’ll be able to get lots of practice sucking cock and having yours sucked in prep for the long weekend.  It’ll be about a two-hour flight so there’ll be lots of time.”


As Dennis finished his explanation he also reached his orgasm and shot a load down Matt’s throat.  Matt was fascinated by what he’d heard but had not been distracted from his task.  Once he finished swallowing the cum, he did pause to inquire, however.


“I assume you’ll also want to piss, which I’m happy to drink.  But first, I think you said a two-hour flight.  Isn’t it more like four or five hours to fly to Hawaii from here?”


Dennis guided Matt’s mouth back to his cock by way of confirming he had a load of piss, then answered the other question simply.


“It takes nearly five hours if you fly commercial. But commercial jets don’t fly at supersonic speeds.  Like I said, these guys are wealthy at a whole different level.”


As Dennis finished pissing down Matt’s throat they drove through the security gate and into the driveway at the mansion.  Matt quickly headed inside to clean up, and when he returned to the car he moved to the back seat.  Jim was already inside, naked and erect, quickly guiding Matt’s head to his cock.  “No point waiting until we get to the airport to start enjoying ourselves, right? I figure you can suck my cock and drink a load of cum at least once by the time we get to the airport, and then we can have a lot of fun with the other guys on the flight, including Dennis.   Although I understand he might have to work up a little sex drive again given the pickup and car ride activities he just told me about.”


“Not to worry,” laughed Dennis.  “You and Matt are sexy enough to get me going again.  The real question is if you’ll still have enough cum left to fill my ass in due course.”


Both Dennis and Jim continued to enjoy their teasing as they drove to the airport.  Matt didn’t say anything, but immediately got to work on Jim’s cock. He and Jim each managed to shoot their first loads of the weekend well before the limo drove into the private airport hangar.


The plane was as awesome as Dennis had described and Matt was thrilled to see about 10 of Jim’s favorite sex partners waiting for them.  He learned that the household was moving to the island estate, and the mansion would be closed as a primary home since Jim was done with high school and they didn’t need a house there anymore.


As Dennis had promised, the plane ride turned into a fabulous sex party.  Matt had participated in lots of threesomes with Jim, but this was his first real orgy.  It was better than anything he could imagine, and he was kept busy sucking and swallowing, but also was encouraged to shoot as many loads himself as part of the entertainment.  Everyone was totally drained by the time they landed, and courtesy of Jim his sex buddies were also sore not only from being fucked in the ass but from being objects of his S&M whips and other toys. Matt was anxious and hopeful to join that group, totally turned on by the thought of being fucked and whipped.


When they finished the drive form the airport on the island and finally arrived at the estate, Matt was amazed. He’d never seen anything so large or so impressive, even in pictures or movies. This was truly an estate.  Jim explained that they had about 5,000 acres tied to the manor house itself, which was only a small part of their island.  He also explained that there were about 500 guys working on the estate in various functions, from gardeners and cooks to drivers and butlers.


“They all have jobs of some sort, but mostly the workers on the estate itself are here for sex,” Jim explained with considerable enthusiasm.  “lots and lots of sex.”


“There are also other regular communities on the island, which include thousands of workers and their families, who manage and run our various businesses and help assure everything remains out of public view.  Dad’s got a whole lot more money than anyone knows about,” he added. “It’s many multiples of $100 billion, but he stays out of sight. The island itself isn’t on any maps and isn’t part of any country.  That way we can enjoy all the money and still not lose our privacy.  We can do whatever we want on our own property, with our own property.  And the people who live and work here get to be in a paradise without the burden of having to make decisions on things like government and social policy.  There is no poverty, no crime or disruptions, and everyone has wonderful, productive lives and careers.  As I told you before, all this is supported by a massive group of slaves who are obedient and content to be property.”


Matt was absolutely overwhelmed and excited to be there. He didn’t care what the family’s motives were. He just wanted to please Jim, so he could stay a while, especially if it involved gay sex. As he thought further about it, he realized he just wanted to please Jim no matter what.  He was in lust and in love.


Jim and Matt got out of the limo that picked them up at the island’s airport and headed to the front door, each with his hard cock protruding in front of him.  They had continued to enjoy each other during the ride.


“Wow.” Matt could only manage a one-word comment as he tried to express his wonder. He was even more impressed when he saw the butler who opened the door for Jim.  The guy was in his early thirties and could have been a major movie star on looks alone. He too had an erection – a very impressive one at that.


“I gather dad’s home?” asked Jim, pointing at the butler’s hard cock.


“Yes, sir, he is,” was the polite and respectful response, accompanied by a friendly smile and then a very warm embrace as the two men hugged each other, their cocks rubbing together and leaking a little precum. Matt just stared, eager to figure out how he might be allowed to suck this guy’s cock.


Jim explained that his dad required the house staff to maintain erections whenever he was in the house, for his amusement and sexual satisfaction. One of the companies they owned made a sort of “Viagra plus” drug that enabled guys to be hard pretty much constantly.


“It’s not on the market yet, but it works really well. I’ll get you some, although I’m not sure you need it being as horny as you are.” Jim laughed as he jokingly slapped Matt’s cock.  “The drug has a side effect that could create marketing issues.  It causes a fatal heart attack in about 10% of the users.  The marketing group wants to wait until the number looks better before releasing it generally.  We’re doing lots of field tests and think it’ll get lower soon, maybe even under 5%.  Meanwhile, we have no problem getting volunteers on the island to try it given the upside effects, and it’s mandatory for guys working at the estate and for slaves.  It’s pretty much constant erections and plentiful orgasms with gobs of sperm.  Young guys will take a little risk for that.  I’d hate to learn you’re in that unlucky 10%, but having you erect all the time is worth the risk.  You’ll be even more fun to play with if you don’t keel over dead from it.”


“Sure, no problem,” came Matt’s quick reply.  “That sounds like a very reasonable risk and I do think I’d be a better sex partner.  So just sign me up.”


“Great,” Jim continued, as he gave Matt a pill from a nearby container and continued with more background on the estate.  Matt hadn’t noticed that Jim actually had not asked his consent, but Jim ignored that for now.  “Edward here is the head butler and runs the whole household, which is what butlers do. Dad put him in charge almost ten years ago so he truly knows the place and the people.  He’s amazingly competent, plus being one of dad’s favorite studs.  He’s got a great butt and knows how to use that cock. I walked in on the two of them the other night while they were having at it in the living room. It was quite a scene. Dad was in such a good mood he let me join in and we double-fucked Edward.  But we were both still horny, and Edward was about to burst, so dad sent for some more of the staff to service all three of us.  I kept fucking Edward, shooting another load up his ass as the group assembled. It turned into a terrific party, lasting well into the night.”


Jim’s story almost caused Matt to shoot another load. He was careful not to touch himself, he was so excited at what he had seen and heard. If only he could become part of this scene, he’d do whatever it took to keep them satisfied.  A 10% risk of dying form a drug that made him a more appealing stud was a no-brainer to take.


It was then that Jim’s dad walked in. His demeanor and the perfection of his body filled Matt with even more lust and awe. While Jim’s dad was obviously older than Jim, probably mid-40s, he was the most handsome male Matt had ever seen. Matt realized he wanted to suck the dad’s cock as much as Jim’s.  It was huge, but not out of place for the smooth, rock-hard, and perfectly formed body. Like the rest of the group, the massive cock was erect and ready for action.


“Hi Jim,” he greeted his son, giving him a huge hug. “I see you brought Matt with you. Welcome to our home, Matt. My name’s David Fletcher.  I’m Jim’s dad.”


Matt was once again taken aback – this time by the courtesy and kindness in the voice. He barely had the presence of mind to respond.


“Thank you, sir.  I’m grateful to be here. This is a fantastic place, sir.” Matt could not bring himself to use Mr. Fletcher’s name. It just seemed too presumptuous. “Sir” was more appropriate.


“Glad you think so. We like it. Jim has told me a lot about you.  Are you two going to get a snack, work out, watch a movie, or just get right to fucking?”


“Matt’s never been butt-fucked before, dad, or whipped,” enthused Jim. “He really wants me to do both, and I’d like to start that right away.  We’ve already started with lots of sex on the flight and the limo rides.  I got some great cardio in by whipping the staff, especially Dennis, during our orgy, and also with a fun combo of whipping and gut punching of a new slave we just acquired.  I’m afraid I got a little carried away with that, and he’s being checked over by the vet.  His belly and balls just cried out to be punched hard and whipped.  He’ll probably be OK.  I hope so since I want to use him again even more aggressively.”


Matt had observed the “rules” of the orgy during the flight.  Jim was in charge, of course, and engaged in dominant sex and S&M.  But with staff he kept to strict limits.  Dennis was hugely turned on by being fucked and being whipped, so Jim laid into him and Dennis erupted with pain-induced pleasure.  However, Dennis was not turned on by having his body covered with clothespins, as some other guys were, so Jim refrained from that with him.  Jim was not the only sadist, and other staff who were got to enjoy their fun too, using the ones who were more masochist.  It was a balance that met everyone’s needs.  The exception was the slave Jim had referred to, who was used by everyone without any concern for his limits or desires.  As Jim had explained to Matt, that was what slaves were for, and they knew it and accepted it.  Further, that meant there was no need to push the limits of Jim or any of the staff, as they could get release from using the slave however they wanted.  It made perfect sense to Matt.

“Anyway,” Jim continued.  “If it’s OK I’d like to skip my formal work-out for now and fuck Matt’s ass, then flog him.  He’s invited me to do it before, but I wanted to wait for this weekend, so it can be part of our partying.”


“Is that correct?” Mr. Fletcher asked Matt. “And if so, would you like Jim to fuck you?  And whip you?”


“Yes, sir, it is.” Matt wanted to be very responsive. “And I’d be honored if Jim would be the first guy to do so.  Anyone else is also welcome to fuck me, whip me, or whatever, if that’s OK with you and Jim.  I think it would be fun for everyone if you made it a gangbang like I’ve seen in some of Jim’s S&M porn movies, and I suspect I’ve got a pretty tight hole since it’s never been used before.”


“Well, Jim’s workouts are important, but I guess that can come later. Plugging a virgin ass and doing some more vigorous flogging will give him a bit of exercise, and it isn’t something we get to do to such an eager and attractive butt every day, is it?  Whipping someone is good exercise if it’s done vigorously for a decent amount of time so that can be today’s workout.


Since he’s your guest, son, you get to fuck him first, although if you’re willing to share as he suggests I would like to take a turn. Is that OK with you?”  The question was to Jim, not Matt, as everyone understood the decisions were Jim’s.  And, besides, Matt had already volunteered to be the target of a gang-bang.  He had wondered why Jim hadn’t done it when they spent all those nights together, and he appreciated learning Jim did indeed want to make it a special occasion.  Jim gave his dad an enthusiastic “yes.”


“Great. Let’s go for it. Edward, I think I’ll fuck Dennis while I watch the opening act.  Why don’t you round him up along with 30 or 40 of the staff for the event? I know Jim likes an audience, and Matt can spend the afternoon getting a very personal introduction from some of the staff.  The rest can fuck him later – this won’t be our only session, and he has a very appealing butt all set to be used.


“By the way, be sure to include a urinal or two for when someone needs to piss,” Mr. Fletcher continued as Edward started to carry out the request.


“No need, dad,” Jim interrupted. “I’ve trained Matt to drink both piss and cum, and he’s really good at it. I bet he can service the whole group.”


“It would be a privilege to do so, sir,” interjected Matt, somewhat eagerly.  At one level he was taken aback by his offer turning into a rather massive gangbang, but he also understood that this was clearly a chance to ingratiate himself, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.  Besides, he was quite turned on by the prospect of all those cocks ramming his ass and then pissing down his throat.  It was a turn-on that made him feel useful.


“Well, son, it seems you’ve done a better job of training than even I had expected. I’m impressed. He also has good manners. It looks like you’ve found a talented young specimen. He’s well formed, and as you know I do like to start training when they’re still young. They’re so much more pliable while still in their late teens.”


They led Matt into the main hall, and then into a very large living room. It had lots of overstuffed chairs and expensive looking couches, a large oaken bar, and elegant oriental rugs. There was a fireplace already lit (although not needed given the warm weather) and a handsome young bartender and several waiters ready to get whatever someone wanted to eat or drink.


“Would you like a drink?” Jim asked Matt. “We have lots of beer, but you can have something different if you’d like.  I’m going for beers myself since that causes me to piss more. After all, I want to be considerate of my guest.  I know you’re fond of used beer from our movie dates.”


“Thanks, but in that case I’ll just wait to recycle yours.  I am sure you’re anxious to get your cock inside me, and it would be rude for me to make you wait while I drank a fresh beer.”  Mr. Fletcher observed the interaction between the boys with considerable satisfaction. Jim was maturing incredibly well. He had just finished high school, and his record was superb – athletics, great grades, leadership, and real popularity.  Jim had developed into a very handsome young man, in the prime of his sexual activity. His body was naturally good looking, and he diligently followed Mr. Fletcher’ admonition to make its maintenance a top priority.  So Jim’s muscles shone and his stamina was relentless.


What surprised and impressed Mr. Fletcher the most was how well Jim had trained Matt.  Matt would perform nicely if properly maintained. His sexual orientation was totally gay, and it was already clear that he had remarkably strong submissive and masochistic tendencies. Matt was meant to serve someone, and that someone would be Jim. Jim had also done an outstanding job introducing Matt to sex as a submissive but eager source for Jim’s own pleasures rather than focusing on what pleased Matt. Matt didn’t even seem to need instruction to realize that it was all about Jim.  Jim had already gotten Matt to accept that his role included being a human toilet. That usually took much longer in training slaves.  Yes, Matt would be a very good first slave for Jim.  Jim would not only enjoy Matt, but learn how to use slaves as property, not thinking of them as if they were still human.  Transitioning Matt from a virgin school buddy new to gay sex into an object to be fucked and used up was a very important next step in Jim’s maturity.  Mr. Fletcher wondered how Jim would react when it came time to dispose of Matt, but that was in the future.


It would never occur to Mr. Fletcher that Matt had any real value as a person.  He was well aware Matt was the star of the soccer team and at the top of his class academically. He even knew about the awards Matt had just gotten.  He especially knew Matt had overcome great adversity and lack of opportunity in a cruel setting.  After all, Matt’s foster dad was one of Mr. Fletcher’s employees, and had been carrying out his instructions in raising Matt to crush his self-esteem.  That had been a key part of his training.  To David Fletcher, Matt was simply an object to be used in the training and pleasure of what mattered – Jim, a member of the family dynasty and David’s chosen heir.  All those other things were just part of making Matt more useful for this purpose.  That final night in foster care, which left Matt with no possessions, naked and drenched with shit and urine, followed by utter humiliation in front of his classmates, was just a setup to assure Matt had no hope or sense of any future other than Jim.  It had obviously worked well.


What David did pay attention to was how wonderfully formed Matt was physically. He smiled as he noticed once again how some parts of any teenage boy develop sooner than others. In Matt’s case, he clearly had a fully developed cock, and it was seriously out of proportion to the relatively small size of the rest of his body. It made Matt an even sexier target, especially as Mr. Fletcher considered how fragile and vulnerable the rest of Matt’s body was. There is no way the 17-year old could resist a beating or whipping form the older, stronger males. That was what being an Alpha Male was all about, and it caused Mr. Fletcher to feel the need for an extra degree of satisfaction, as he realized he was getting seriously excited sexually.


“Edward,” David said quietly to his butler once he returned from sending messages for staff to join them. “Do we have any fresh young meat in the holding cells that’s ready for harvest later tonight? I think I’m getting rather horny for something a bit more extreme than what Jim will be doing at this point.”


“Indeed you are, sir,” came the respectful but playful answer as he stroked his employer’s manhood. “And I figured you would be.  I’d seen Matt before at the beach place, and I had a similar reaction. So I arranged for the cells to be fully stocked for the weekend.  We’ve got four especially promising candidates within the herd for you to choose from, who were on the plane in the slave cargo hold.  One of them looks a bit like Matt, although his cock isn’t as large. But he is also 17, pretty, and very reliable with his orgasms.  We got him a few weeks ago and we’ve been getting him prepared. He has responded very well to the drugs and training and is ready to be appreciative of your attention.  You should look at the others, too. They’re all good quality imports from the mainland and they all survived a double dose of the erection drug.  They’re expendable and unbelievably horny. Your program of payments to various police groups is starting to pay off. When they pick up these losers as truants or for petty crimes they’re checking in with us first. We tell them it’s for a rehab program, of course, and the prisoners sign a waiver agreeing to go into rehab.  I think a few of the cops suspect what’s really happening, and the irony is that those are the ones who are sending the better-quality meat. After all, it helps them clean up the streets.  So, as an aside, I have some suggestions on focusing and increasing the payments.”


“You’re pretty impressive at times,” responded Mr. Fletcher. “Do what you think is best as to the payments.  That’s chump change.  I’ll check out the collection later this afternoon. After all, Matt’s Jim’s toy. I wouldn’t want to mess up his indoctrination, which is obviously going extremely well.  After I choose my sport for the night, feel free to pick one for yourself.  Or maybe we can team up on a couple of them.”


“Thank you, sir. That’s very generous.”


David and Edward rejoined the main conversation. As they did so a waiter handed Mr. Fletcher a small salad he’d ordered, and the bartender served him a glass of expensive red wine.  As Mr. Fletcher took the salad (having not had anything since he landed that morning), the waiter asked if he’d like the usual dressing.  He nodded, and both the waiter and the bartender quickly jerked off, their beautiful bodies rapidly achieving orgasm so that their cocks spilled generous helpings of cum onto the salad.  They asked if he’d like more than that, and when he again nodded a second waiter did the same.  “Thanks.  That looks just right.  I do think cum makes the best dressing of all.”


By now, there were about 50 guys ready for the gangbang.  Word had spread, and Jim loved the idea of showing off his new sex toy.  All were studs, ready to shoot their load as soon as they had the chance. Quite a few started playing with each other, but most quickly focused on Matt. Here was new fresh meat, nice and young, and very available. They wanted to examine him, so they did. Matt was poked and prodded like cattle at an auction, with hands caressing his skin, fingers exploring his asshole, and several guys opening his mouth to examine the other potential opening for depositing cum. His tits were already hard, but they got harder as they were squeezed and massaged, with guys commenting on how nice and firm they were for a male so young.


Very shortly, the conversation turned to the issue of how best to position Matt for fucking.  Some of the guys suggested doggy style. Others wanted to use a sling.


“If we go doggy style, it’s more degrading for him,” argued a young bodybuilder whose cock was truly massive.


“Yeah, but if we use a sling Master Jim can see his face and enjoy the reaction as he slams his cock into that tiny little ass and rips him open,” argued another guy, who had a much slenderer build but had a larger cock. “With my giant penis I like to see the pain in the face when I enter. And it’s even more fun to see how hard they get while I’m pumping.”


Matt had joined in the conversation with enthusiasm. He asked how much it hurt to be fucked and seemed pleased when they told him it would hurt a lot for a guy as young as he was who hadn’t been fucked before. He asked what he could do to make it more fun for the guy doing the fucking, and they told him he should react as much as he could, writhing in response to the pain and the pleasure. He asked if being fucked would cause him to shoot his own load, and they told him that some oversexed guys do but better trained guys wait until they are told to shoot.


Matt was also solicitous of whether the guys would want him to clean their cocks after they satisfied themselves. They assured him that he would be expected to do that and that he also would be expected to swallow any piss they needed to unload during the afternoon.  Finally, Matt had politely wondered how it would be appropriate for him to express his thanks to each guy for using him. He said he didn’t want to do anything that might embarrass Jim, who had been kind enough to invite him to the entertainment. From the moment other guys had shown up, Matt had made it clear that he welcomed being fucked by the entire group.


Mr. Fletcher interrupted the exchange, having finished his salad and his first glass of wine. “So, Jim, what do you think? It’s your birthday, and it seems to me it’s time to get going with your party.”


Matt was startled by this information. He had no idea it was Jim’s birthday, and it bothered him that he hadn’t gotten Jim a present. Although he knew he couldn’t afford anything nice, or for that matter anything at all, since he literally had no possessions whatsoever, he thought he should have at least made some token offering. The realization startled him from his fascination with the exchange on how he would best entertain the group. He already knew his own opinions weren’t relevant, but he was extremely interested in how the guys felt. What he did understand is that he wanted to do whatever provided Jim and his buddies the most fun, especially on Jim’s birthday.


“Well, it’s a close call for me,” answered Jim, bringing Matt back to the scene as he remembered the conversation on how best to fuck him. “So I think I want to do both. I’ll start with a sling. I do want to see how he reacts when his butt gets popped for the first time. I’m not as big as these two (pointing to the two owners of the massive cocks who had been debating the

best technique), but I’m not exactly small. I figure Matt’s ass is very tight, and I can inflict at least a little pain as part of the process, even if my cock won’t split him open like a stuck pig the way those guys will. Then I think I want to have a couple of you flip him over so I can shoot my load into him doggy style, which is a little more humiliating for him. After I cum, and dad has his turn, each of you can do what you like. But as soon as I get horny again, I may want another shot at Matt, or maybe I’ll just fuck a couple of you guys.”


Matt couldn’t help himself, and he spoke up. “Gee, Jim, I didn’t know it was your birthday weekend. I think it would be great if you fucked me as many times as you want. I didn’t get you anything since I didn’t know, and I don’t have any money or possessions to use to buy anything even if I did know, so maybe that can be my present.”


“Oh, I have a present from you in mind in addition to a few butt-fucks,” laughed Jim, now a little affected by his second beer. “We’ll get to that later this evening.  I appreciate the offer. I just don’t want to deprive my buddies here of their fun, and I do recall that some of them have very satisfactory butts.”


Everyone laughed. And with that, Jim led the group to a door at the side of the living room. It was very unobtrusive, and Matt noticed that he entered a code on a pad that was discretely hidden next to the door.


“Shall we, gentlemen?” Jim asked. “Hey dad, is there anything interesting on display in here I should warn Matt about, so he doesn’t freak out too much?”


“Not much,” Mr. Fletcher answered, smiling. “Just a couple of slaves in early processing and a supply of them in some of the cages. I haven’t done any real harvesting for a while because I’ve just gotten back home this morning. But don’t worry, we have the entire weekend, and I’m thinking of staying all next week. So we can fill up the place with fun targets now that you’re done with school.”


As the conversation continued, Jim led the group into the next room. Matt had overheard the exchange, and was excited at the idea of not going back to school and staying with Jim’s family.  Maybe they’d let him stay the week.  But before he could process that thought, his breath was taken away by the sight of the room they entered.


Matt had seen dungeons in the various gay S&M films he and Jim had watched, and Jim had a few toys in his bedroom at the beach mansion. But Matt   had never seen anything like this. It was huge and brightly lit, with torture implements everywhere. Interspersed among them were exercise machines and free-weights. This was a combination exercise room and torture chamber. He saw St. Andrew’s crosses next to treadmills. Traditional crosses with dildos added were up against the walls, next to elaborate climbing walls for exercise.  There were whipping posts of all kinds, some that held the victim in place and some that allowed him to swing free, suspended so his body would sway and twist as it was flogged front and back. There were fucking stations that involved strapping the victim over a leather seat, hands and feet secured to the base so that he was perfectly positioned for butt-fucking and/or cock sucking. They even had hand-holds like ski poles to help the person doing the butt-fucking get better leverage. In some, the seats were covered with nails instead of leather, which would cut into the victim’s chest and belly, ripping them further as his body moved in response to the fucking.  Numerous tables set up as racks for torture were interspersed with other exercise machines, each rack having lots of straps to hold the subject still to whatever extent desired or dislocate shoulders and even rip arms completely form the torso, with channels at the edges to funnel and drain liquids that flowed from the bodies as they were tortured and ripped apart.  Large vertical wheels were fixed with straps that allowed a guy to be positioned for torture and then spun upside down or sideways for easier access to all parts of the body.  Cages were everywhere, some suspended in the air for better display of the victim – and many complete with a naked male slave ready to begin its torture.


Matt’s attention quickly went to the slings, where he knew he would soon be suspended. But as he looked at one, he saw past it to crosses on the wall. He was especially fascinated by the knives and whips conveniently located throughout the room, often next to dumbbells and

nautilus machines.  Matt was so stunned that he literally stopped in his tracks and had trouble drawing his breath.


“Impressed?” asked Jim, paying close attention to Matt’s reaction. “Or scared?”


“Impressed,” answered Matt truthfully. “But I think I’m mostly just excited. I never imagined a place like this could exist. It’s just amazing.  And like you said, all these slaves look almost relaxed, ready to serve by being tortured.  I’m curious.  Do they sometimes fail to survive the torture?  A lot of this stuff looks potentially fatal.”


Jim laughed.  “No.  They ALWAYS fail to survive, at least in due course.  They know it’s what they deserve, and snuffing a slave is a fantastic turn-on and stress reliever for all of us.  The fuck-stands with the nails are a favorite of mine, since the nails will tear apart the nipples and pecks as I fuck the guy and he can’t avoid gyrating on the bench.  The guy dies while I am fucking him, which is a great feeling as his ass tightens around my cock.  It’s a lot of fun.”


As Jim spoke, Matt focused on the guys being held in cages, and especially noticed two young males with hands and feet nailed to crosses just beyond the sling he had spotted.  He had seen lots of S&M videos with guys tied to crosses, but never with their hands and feet nailed to the cross. This greatly enhanced the effect.  They appeared to be very fit and were quite handsome. All the young males were sort of “on display” in the room, with erect cocks even though some were obviously in pain.  Jim explained that this was the effect of the drug Matt had just taken, so Matt would remain hard for the afternoon and beyond.  The difference was these guys got double doses so they’d stay hard and have orgasms throughout the torture sessions, even as things got extremely rough.  A double dose would ultimately be fatal, but not for a while and these guys were going to die anyway.


Matt counted about 30 of the slaves. Some were shackled to the whipping posts, ready to receive their lashes.  Several others were tied to tables, with various leather restraints that seemed to stretch their arms and legs but also to stretch and separate their balls away from the rest of the body, no doubt for easier CBT sessions.  But what got Matt’s attention the most were the two guys nailed to crosses. They appeared to be in intense pain, struggling to breath.


“Oh,” laughed Mr. Fletcher. “I forgot. I did have Edward nail up a couple of slaves yesterday evening.  I thought they’d be fun to watch and it looks like they’re proceeding nicely. One of the advantages of the dildos attached to the crosses, which are stuck up their asses, is that they get a little support. So they can suffer a lot longer, which means there’s something fun to look at. As for the rest of these guys, they’re fresh S&M slaves and you should all feel free to let them entertain you. Just be sure I get to see what you’re doing and maybe join in if it gets interesting.”


Murmurs of agreement and appreciation came from the house servants. David Fletcher was indeed a generous employer to his favored staff. Nonetheless, even though there were some serious opportunities to inflict pain, the group’s attention quickly returned to Matt.


“No problem, dad.  I’ve explained the role of slaves to Matt and he’s cool.  I don’t think anyone needs to hold back.”


“Absolutely,” added Matt.  “Jim explained how the slaves understand their role, and this all makes great sense.  Whatever pleases Jim is the right thing to do.”  Everyone was pleased with the response and it was time to start the fun.


“So, Jim,” one of the staff inquired. “Where do you want to put your new toy?”


Jim pointed Matt toward the sling Matt was staring at. He instructed Matt to climb up onto it, laying on his back with his head pointed toward the back wall where the two guys were being crucified.


“I like this one. And with Matt pointed this way I can watch the guys being crucified while I fuck him.  I plan to take a while and they’re clearly starting to have serious trouble breathing.  That’ll be an added bit of entertainment as they weaken and it gets worse for them.   So the rest of you should take a number.”


Indeed, Matt realized that there was a number dispensing machine, like the kind you see in ice cream stores.  Jim had gotten #1, and his dad #2. At Matt’s suggestion Dennis, their driver, got #3. After that, it was an open season.


“Remember guys,” joked Jim. “It’s first serve, first cum.” The joke was one they had heard before, but everyone laughed anyway.


Matt quickly climbed onto the sling, and several guys tied him in. His legs were in the air, and his virgin butt was nicely positioned for Jim’s use. It was finally time for Jim to end Matt’s virginity.


Jim did not lubricate himself or Matt before he thrust his cock into Matt’s vulnerable ass. He wanted to inflict the maximum pain. The thrust was effective, and Jim felt the extreme pleasure of having his cock surrounded by a very tight yet pliant asshole. He was of course extremely aroused, so he was careful to hold back so he wouldn’t shoot too early. He didn’t want to have this pleasure end any time soon.  Unlike most young males, Jim was able to sustain fucking for a long time before he shot his load.  Part of it was talent, and part was experience. He was busy fucking Matt for quite a while. He was particularly pleased to see that he had caused Matt to bleed, as shown by the droplets that leaked out as he pumped in and out. He pointed that out to the group, who complimented him on his technique and the obvious effectiveness of his cock.  Matt joined in the congratulations and expressed his appreciation for Jim’s efforts.  “I guess I’d better stop easing you about a small cock.  It’s clearly big enough to do a hell of a job on me.”


Jim also enjoyed the look of obvious pain on Matt’s face and was pleased that Matt showed such a good attitude.  Indeed, Matt remained fully erect during the session.  Jim had chosen well.


After a very long time, Jim told some of the guys to flip Matt over and put him on one of the leather-covered fuck machines, doggy style. They did so quickly, and Jim resumed fucking. It was even some time after that before Jim finally reached orgasm, blasting a load into Matt. His effort was met with a cheer, and Jim felt completely drained. He leaned over Matt and kissed him. Matt, in turn, thanked Jim for using him, and offered to suck his cock clean.


Jim took advantage of Matt’s offer, and then let loose a large load of beer-tasting piss. He stood back a bit for effect, so others could watch how well Matt had been trained to swallow it.  As always, Matt didn’t spill a drop, and then thanked Jim for getting him some beer, albeit used.


“Gentleman,” Jim announced to general cheering. “He’s not a virgin any more, as you just saw. But you’re welcome to make sure.”


Matt vividly remembered that first fuck very fondly, and he remembered how Jim’s dad had also caused him considerable pain with his even larger cock, followed by almost being torn open by Dennis and then the two muscle guys.  Indeed, Matt’s memory of everything about his first gangbang was still vivid.  It took hours for all fifty guys to rape him, and it hurt a lot, but being used to give sexual pleasure to all those friends of Jim’s was utterly fulfilling.  He also got to drink lots and lots of used beer, and they even drained cum from his ass every now and then and had him drink that too.  When he himself needed to piss, it was into a pail that he also drained, He remembered the total humiliation of it all as the time he learned what his true nature was.  He was completely comfortable with that.


Matt had come to realize Jim’s sadistic tendencies were extreme, based initially on the videos they watched and Jim’s reactions.  Matt had volunteered his body for Jim’s use, but as with fucking his ass Jim had declined, telling him that would come in due course.  Seeing the two guys nailed to crosses and hearing Mr. Fletcher’s casual comments about “process” confirmed Matt’s suspicions, and Jim’s descriptions left no doubt.  When everyone had finished fucking him, Matt wasn’t surprised that Jim selected a whipping stand that suspended Matt by his wrists so he could twist as he was flogged, allowing Jim, Jim’s dad, and Dennis to stand in a circle around his body and enjoy lashing him front, back, and sides.  The best part was that the drug had kicked in by then and his erect cock provided a great added target.  By the time they were tired out, Jim having gotten his exercise, Matt’s body was dripping blood and sweat along with the cum oozing from his wounded ass.  Dennis sucked him off to complete the effect, adding a load of Matt’s cum, and then his piss, to the flow.  It was an awesome scene for everyone, especially Matt.  As it had proceeded, he had wondered if Jim would snuff him, but felt it would be rude to ask.  He wouldn’t have resisted, even if he could, but was pleased when he was still alive without any permanent damage as his first rape/torture session ended.  He didn’t want to stop serving Jim.




Matt’s mind returned to the present, still speeding down the beach road in Jim’s car.


“That was a pretty amazing fuck session the first time you took me to the estate,” Matt commented.


“Yeah, I still remember it myself. You really had a nice tight ass then. It’s still not too bad, and there’s remarkably little effect from all the stuff I’ve stuck up it since then.  Our vet has kept you in good repair.  You’re not quite as tight as you used to be, but after fisting and an occasional baseball bat, I suppose that’s to be expected.  I have access to lots of other guys who are cute virgins, so it’s not a big deal.”


“Sorry about that.  But I’m still willing to take anything you want to place up there, so maybe that will provide some entertainment for you today.  Your electric dildo toy is not a bad start.”


“I’ve got some fun ideas.  But I’m going to make you available for the group first.  I think a lot of them will want to do a last fuck of my sex toy.  But those are good memories and I’ve kind of gotten into fisting guys thanks to the fun I’ve had with you.  So you’ve been useful.  Of course, anyone who wants to fuck you with whatever they’d like will be free to do so, so it might be entertaining to see how creative guys get and how badly you get ripped open.


“What I remember most about that first time at the estate, however, was that you were so naive when I asked for my birthday present.”


Matt’s mind again wandered into the past. He thought about the afternoon after the first gang rape and whipping.  Jim had taken him to his room, which was amazingly spacious and filled with a plentiful set of S&M equipment along with a giant bed.  He and Jim had been lying in bed, just the two of them.  Jim had fucked Matt’s sore ass again and introduced Matt to the pain that comes from electrical current flowing between the genitals and nipples.  But he allowed Matt to shoot a load onto Jim’s chest and then lick it up for Jim’s entertainment. Then Jim had started asking him questions.


“What do you think about when you jerk off?”


“I used to think about a lot of different things, but now I think about you and about the guys in the S&M films we watch.”


“And who are you in the film while you’re fantasizing?”


“Well,” answered Matt somewhat sheepishly, “I get most excited if I’m the guy getting whipped and fucked. Seeing that on movies really turned me on, and now that I’ve experienced it for real I’m fixated on wanting more. Is that wrong?”


“Of course not,” laughed Jim. “It just confirms what I’ve always assumed. You’re a complete masochist and a natural slave. You haven’t realized it yet, which is OK. You’re new at it, but you’re a good-looking young specimen of man-meat who shows some real

potential to be useful.”


“What do you mean?  I don’t understand.”


‘It’s simple, and we’ve talked about it before but not in relation to you.  The world is made up of natural masters and natural slaves. Most people are sort of in the middle, but guys like us have very clear roles. As masters, it is appropriate that dad and I have tons of money – like I said earlier, it’s billions and billions of dollars.  We know how to rule and do it well.  By contrast, it’s natural that you’re a throw-away kid on the streets.  You require someone to serve.  Lucky for you, I found you at school and have been carefully training you to realize your sole purpose and potential.  Dad had me make you a project for my own development.  These movies were carefully selected to create awareness over time with increasing intensity.”


Matt was stunned. He had no conception of any of this going on. But he was not upset.  In fact, his already erect cock throbbed a bit more intensely as Jim had been speaking. What Jim was saying made sense and fit with their prior conversations and what their teacher had taught them.  He appreciated being selected for Jim’s experiment.


“So what am I?” Matt asked, both curious and intrigued.


“It’s time for you to decide that.  You have two choices and you need to pick one of them.  If you want, you could become one of the citizens on the island, free to build a career and probably meet some guy who will dominate but nourish you.  You’re smart and personable and attractive, and a lot of guys would find your shyness sexy.  If that’s what you decide, I’ll get it set up for you.


Option two is for you to become a slave – my slave.  Your status would be no different than the animals being tortured and ultimately snuffed in the game room downstairs.  The difference would be that it will have been your choice.  Those animals are slaves because they were bred for it or because they violated the rules of society and lost their citizenship.  So they learn it’s their duty to do all the dirty, dangerous work and in due course be horribly tortured and killed, their bodies used for food and fertilizer.  We train them to accept that and they’re actually quite content as well as obedient.


Matt was stunned, and a lot of things started to fit into place.  “I wondered what was going to happen to the two guys nailed to crosses in the game room.  You’re saying they will stay there until they’re dead.  Right?”


“Right.  And all the other slaves will suffer similar fates.  It’s how we manage the violent urges of citizens and Alpha Males, and it works amazingly well.  We satisfy our sadistic sexual passions and the slaves need to die anyway so we have a meat supply.  Having them die horrible, humiliating deaths as part of sexual S&M sessions has no downside and makes them more useful.  Once they’re trained they appreciate that opportunity to serve.  Sometimes, like the household slaves our typical citizens own, they serve for a long time before they’re disposed of.”


“Do you think I’m one of them?”


“Not as of now.  You’re a citizen, like the staff at the estate, and you’re entitled to respect and freedom so long as you don’t disobey the Alpha Male laws.  That’s why I respected everyone’s limits for the S&M fun we had on the plane but didn’t with the slave.  It’s your choice, and you could choose to be a salve instead if you want to.”


“Is that the birthday present you’d like?”


“Yes, but only if you choose to do so.  You see, there’s a special feeling of sexual power from using a slave who chooses to serve, suffer, and die.  Knowing that choice was voluntary adds a lot to the sexual thrill of owning and using the slave.  If you wanted to do that, it would increase the intensity of my orgasms and my satisfaction in dominating you.  But don’t misunderstand:  The choice is irrevocable, and if you make that choice you will indeed be like the slaves you saw, and I will torture you constantly, humiliate you always, and eventually (or maybe right away) horribly kill you.  This is not a pretend thing.  It would be for real.”


Matt didn’t even hesitate in his choice.  “Of course I’ll be your slave.  I think I already am and have been for a long time.  This would just make it official.  You are free to do whatever you want with me, and I know it will involve me being tortured and snuffed whenever you feel like doing so.  I hope you really get a thrill out of it when you do.  And you can count on my total obedience and cooperation.  Happy birthday from your new slave.”


Jim was thrilled.  This was indeed the birthday present he most wanted to get.  And he made it effective immediately.


“Great.  I’d say thanks but as of now you’re an object, a piece of property. You’re important only to the extent you can provide me pleasure. I don’t like to think of objects like you as slaves because the term slave implies people who are somehow just of lower rank. What you need to understand is that you have no rank at all – no more than this bed we’re laying in or a piece of meat in the fridge.  If I want to destroy that footstool by my desk, or eat some meat, no one would object.  The stool and the meat are mine to do with as I want.  You are no different, just potentially more fun to use than a chair or a wastebasket.  You perform the same function as a urinal in a bathroom, but it’s more fun to piss down your throat than to piss into a porcelain toilet – and ultimately, you’ll be more fun to destroy, because it would be wrong to waste a nice designer toilet. It’s fun to destroy a piece of male property like you – a piece of not yet dead meat.  And porcelain isn’t edible.  You are.


“You are now my body slave.  That means you’d always be nearby and ready to serve me however I want.  That is your sole purpose, and when I get tired of you or if you fail in any aspect you’d be destroyed.  Again, think of a piece of furniture, except that furniture doesn’t get tortured to death and eaten when I decide to get something new.  For a piece-of-shit-slave like you, being my body slave is quite an honor.


“Incidentally, your foster dad works for my family.  He has been part of the program for years, making sure your self-esteem remains low and you endure humiliation and deprivation.  Dad and I arranged the scene at his house the other night to trigger a change in your status, so you’d arrive here without any ties or options through him.  I also arranged the “coming out” scene in front of the school with Dennis, which is a great cover to explain you dropping out of school. No one will ever know or care what happened to you.  And you cooperated by throwing away the last possessions you had – the clothes you prostituted yourself to get at the beach – and you now have absolutely nothing.  My goal was to get you psychologically ready to admit what you are and accept your proper role in life.  But it still needed to be your choice, and I would have honored it had you chosen a life as a citizen.  You would not have been happy or fulfilled, however, because what you now are is what you were meant to be.  All of our effort was just to get you to the point you’d recognize that.  I’ve given you the gift of fulfilling your role, and when I kill you I’ll give you the further gift of the kind of horrible death you deserve – and want and need for your sense of having been useful.”


“I understand.”


“Good.  Remember that first S&M video I showed you with the guy getting whipped?  I told you dad hired him and we had a great weekend when I got to flog him.  I told you he was grateful for dad taking care of his troubles with the law.  That’s all true, but the way dad took care of his troubles was by turning him into a sex slave.  We were testing some drugs we developed for criminal types who were being reduced to slave status, and we wanted to find out if he would agree to cooperate and be snuffed just for our amusement.  He did, and I not only got to flog him, but I got to snuff him.  It was my first kill, and sexually thrilling for me as I fucked his ass, gutted him, and then slowly strangled him.  Watching the pain and despair in his face and feeling the pressure on my cock as his body pitifully struggled to stay alive was amazing.  He even shot a load as he died, which triggered my own orgasm.  I was so horny I fucked him again as his dead body continued to gyrate for my pleasure.   He did join us for dinner, but as the main course, and dad let me carve the meat.  Part of the plan is to replace cattle with slaves as our prime meat source, since that will help with the ozone environmental issues and slaves are so much more satisfying to kill and eat.  It’s especially fun if they’re still alive while being carved up.  All the meat we serve here is slave meat.  I’ll let you see the video of that first kill for your education.  Put this DVD in the player. There’s a large screen that will come down from the ceiling when you put it in.”


Matt obeyed. He took the DVD and started it, then returned to the side of Jim’s bed, kneeling obediently beside the bed even though Jim had not instructed him to do so. Jim was pleased. Matt’s instincts and training were serving him well.  He told Matt to lay beside him so he could observe Matt’s reaction to the film.


The film was astonishing, and showed Jim doing a fabulous job torturing the young male to death, while the victim not only did not resist but politely thanked Jim for the honor of being Jim’s first snuff victim.  Several cameras focused on different angles of the tortures, catching all aspects of the death itself, including the agony on the face of the dying male and the sexual ecstasy on Jim’s as he fucked the body while it was twitching violently in its death throws and then again after it was technically dead but still convulsing.  The film then featured Jim celebrating with his dad and some others at dinner, slicing choice cuts of meat off the now-dead slave and enjoying the feast.  Surprisingly to Matt, all of this turned him on a lot.  He had never even conceived of anything like this and it took him by complete shock.  But it did something else. The scene confirmed his decision and turned him on beyond belief. Matt shot a giant load of cum as he watched the scenes where Jim fucked the dying body, fanaticizing himself as the victim.  His orgasm wasn’t caused by touching himself or even by being fucked – it was triggered by the images in the movie and the realization this likely would happen to him someday, as it should.


“I hoped you’d react that way. I told my dad that you were ready, and clearly you are. By our standards that first time for me was a quick snuff. Usually it takes much longer and is far more painful.  And I like to enjoy some of the meat while the guy is still alive and can watch me eat him, although I leave the body in good enough shape to enjoy fucking it while it dies and again while it’s still nice and warm, finishing its death convulsions.  I’ve learned a lot of great torture techniques since then so you can count on a far worse level of torture, leading to the same fate.


“This guy was cooperative and willing because of drugs, and we’ve proven we can convert anyone into a willing slave when we want to.  That will be critical as we reform various societies and take control.  But you are different in an important way.  You are a willing slave because you know you should be.  That is what my project was all about, and that is why I will especially enjoy owning you and killing you. For the full effect, it had to be your choice.  I’m pleased you made the choice you did and given how resilient you are I know it is for real.  Even after all the events before you came to the island, you recovered quickly and continued on, showing up at school despite humiliation that would have broken most people.  That makes you a more appealing slave.”


“Thanks, Jim.  That means a lot to me and yes, this is my choice.”


Jim moved the conversation to a different aspect.  “Incidentally, you didn’t have permission to shoot, so you’ll have to suffer consequences for that. I’m going to torture you, introducing you to a new definition of pain.  Pain will be a central part of your life from now on.  Further, now that you know your role you need to perform adequately. And adequately means perfectly – doing what I say always, serving my desires, and using your body only to serve and entertain me. If you ever shoot a load again without permission, it will be your last.  You will never have the honor of serving me again, you will be totally emasculated so you can never enjoy any sexual gratification, and you will be used for months as a lab animal for research on advanced methods of inflicting extreme pain.  Is that clear?”


“Yes, Jim.”


“And you don’t get to call me Jim any more. People call each other by their names. You’re no longer people. You are to call me “sir” and you are to bow

your head when you address me. You are also not allowed to speak unless you are spoken to and a response is required. If you have a question, you first ask permission to speak.  Clear?”


“Yes, sir.”


“OK.  One last chance to change your mind.  Do you accept and agree to your new position as a piece of property?”


“Yes, sir.  I understand, and I will obey completely.  Thank you for accepting my unworthy birthday present.  I hope you enjoy it.”


Matt noted the change in his master’s tone. They were no longer schoolmates, with Jim as the elder mentor leading Matt into sexual awareness. Now, Matt had been assigned his role in life and he must obey. At that moment, Matt accepted his fate and determined to satisfy his new master. He understood his role, and for whatever time Jim chose to keep him as a piece of Jim’s property, Matt would cooperate fully.  He realized this was not only his purpose, it was his greatest hope and source of joy.  He wanted to be Jim’s property.


Jim and Matt rejoined the larger group for dinner, and everyone congratulated Jim on his outstanding success in training his body-slave.  Matt knelt behind Jim to be available for any needed services, observing how lavish the dinner feast was, with an assortment of delicious looking vegetables and side dishes on the table.  To the side was another table on which there was a handsome young slave lying on his back.  A chef stood by him and sliced off the desired cuts of live slave-meat that the diners requested, either serving them as slave-tar-tar or grilling the selection to order on a nearby Hibachi.  It appeared to Matt to be a wonderful meal and a wonderful gathering of family and friends.  The combination of the slave’s screams and his expressions of appreciation for the honor of being their entree’ added nicely to the atmosphere.  The slave had expressed his thanks to each diner, until one of them decided to try some fresh tongue.  When it came time to serve the cock, the chef brought it to orgasm so it could be sliced off as it was spilling cum, which was a nice effect.  Matt only hoped he could someday perform as well as this slave had done.




An Interlude


Jim’s voice over the noise of the drive once again brought Matt back to the present reality.


“What I can’t decide is whether I want to keep a souvenir. After all, you were my first human property, and that has a little sentiment. Dad says it doesn’t matter, and advises against keeping anything from slave carouses, but I’m not sure. What do you think?”


“I’d be honored if you did. It would mean a lot to me, not that my feelings matter. Nor should they.  But maybe you could use my cock and balls as a paperweight? It might help organize all that stuff on your desk.” (Before their roles had shifted from schoolmates to owner and property, Matt had teased Jim about his disorganized desk.  It had been one of their favorite jokes since Jim tended to leave stuff all over the place.) “Or maybe my skin could be turned into a jacket or something?  You’re very good at skinning guys alive, and it’s always a crowd pleaser since it’s obviously unbelievably painful but not necessarily immediately fatal.  I’d still be alive while you cut me up as food.”


“I don’t wear clothes, idiot,” came the needling reply. “But maybe the paperweight idea is worth thinking about. I must admit my desk is still a mess, and you do have a nice set.  I don’t like eating cock – muscles aren’t very tender. If I don’t have it made into a paperweight, I’ll probably just have it turned into hamburger or sausage, or maybe have you eat it yourself.  I strongly suspect your breast meat will be the best, so I’m going to try that first. The issue is if I want to enjoy your balls as an appetizer. Guy oysters are tasty, and I’ve wondered what you’ll taste like. I guess I’ll decide at the time.”


“I hope you enjoy my meat however you decide.” Matt was quite sincere in this. His only regret about the party was that it would end his service.


“If I may ask, have you decided whether to kill me first or do you think you will be able to keep me alive long enough to enjoy my flesh while I watch? I know how much you like munching on a guy’s tastier parts while you vivisect him and watch the agony and humiliation. I want to provide you as much fun as possible.”


“I haven’t completely decided, but that’s my inclination. I think it’s the most humiliating way for a guy to die, watching himself get cut up for food and knowing he’ll literally wind up as shit.  So don’t disappoint me by dying too soon. I want a worthwhile show.”


“I’ll do my very best. You can count on me. I’m deeply grateful for all the use you’ve made of me over the past five years. I expected you to snuff me on my 18th birthday like you mentioned when you took me over as your property. So these years have been a wonderful chance to serve.”


“Yeah, I considered that. But you are a fun fuck and extremely obedient.  Frankly, I like your attitude, and I even used to like you as a buddy back when you were a person. Having a willing slave who is content or even eager to be killed whenever I feel like it has turned out to be even more of a tun-on than I’d imagined.  Besides, when you were 18 I didn’t have a great replacement.


“I’m glad I kept you around. Maybe I’m sentimental like dad accuses me of being. I’m not sure. But in any event today will take care of the issue. It would be a little embarrassing to keep a slave any longer than I have.


“There’s another thing too.  I posted a message on the fact I was going to snuff you today as part of my birthday party and invited young guys on the island to apply to replace you.  I made it clear it was just going to be a one-year gig, so I was amazed how many did so, happy to convert from citizen to slave so they could be my body slave for a year and then be snuffed at my next birthday party if not before.  It’s down to four finalists, and they’re all terrific.  Before they watch you die they’ll all compete to take your place.  They’ve all agreed that the contests will be to the death, which seems appropriate.  Maybe it would be amusing to have the winner eat your cock.”


Matt was not disappointed with this report.  He knew he was six years older than when he had first attracted Jim’s sexual attention.  He was glad that Jim would find other objects to satisfy him after Jim disposed of Matt. The years of training had been very instructive in confirming that it was about Jim’s desires, his pleasure.


“Anyway, I’m glad I didn’t throw you away at 18. You have been a great sex object, and you provided me with quality entertainment, like when I used you in those soccer matches a few years ago. You were pretty impressive.”


“Thanks.” Matt was ecstatic. He had never gotten any reaction from Jim for that effort, and he had given it his all. Matt knew he was a good soccer player since his freshman year in high school, when he made varsity after leading a winning freshman team. Jim had used him, along with some other slaves, to form a highly competitive team. They played other slave teams, and they always won. (One incentive was that the losing teams were brutally slaughtered at the end of the games by being fed to the crowd.)  Matt knew he was the primary reason Jim’s team won but had never had a conversation about it.


The best part of the soccer games was knowing Jim was watching. As Matt and his teammates ran up and down the field, their beautiful bodies glistening with sweat and their hard cocks bouncing with the motion, he was aware that it got Jim turned on.  Those nights tended to have some of the best sex Matt would enjoy with Jim. Jim sometimes kept a few of the losing slaves for himself, and let Matt eat their cocks while they were still attached, just as they reached orgasm from Matt’s blow jobs.  As they died, Jim would shoot his load up their tightening assholes. It was a lot of fun and those were among Matt’s most wonderful memories.


The two young men drove on in silence for a few minutes, but then Jim spotted a side road and turned off toward the beach.  “Here’s a place I want to show you,” Jim said. “It’s my favorite place on our whole island. The beach is unusually smooth and wide, and there’s a fantastic view. Let’s stop for a while.”


Matt was startled at the suggestion, assuming they would head straight to

Jim’s birthday party.  But he hardly objected. Nor did he have any idea what Jim had in mind.  He wasn’t even aware of the beach despite the fact he was almost always with Jim.


Jim stopped the car at the end of the side road, and motioned for Matt to follow him., taking Matt by the hand, which also had not happened in years.  They walked down a trail, and Matt understood why Jim liked the spot. It was the best view of the water and the mountains that Matt had ever seen, and the beach was totally pristine. There were no footprints, and the beach was so clean it was almost as if it had been manicured.  There was a large blanket laid on it just above the water line with a picnic basket next to it.


“No one is permitted to come here except me,” Jim explained. “I have gardeners who tend to it every morning to assure it’s always perfect.  I had them prepare it for us to visit, and then they smoothed out their footprints as they left to preserve the effect.”


They walked in silence to the edge of the water, next to the blanket, where Jim turned to Matt and touched his body. To Matt’s utter `amazement, this was followed by a very tender embrace and a deep, loving kiss. Slowly, Jim led their bodies down to the blanket, where he continued to stroke Matt’s smooth skin and deepened his kiss.


“I hope you have enjoyed the freedom you have had during the past five years,” Jim whispered as he briefly withdrew his tongue from deep in Matt’s mouth.  “I wanted to be sure you understand how fortunate you have been, and also to give you one last gift.”


Matt was too shocked to speak. Jim used Matt sexually all the time both before and after acquiring him, but afterwards it was as an object, never as a lover. That was fine and all Matt expected.  But this was totally different and far beyond exciting.  Matt also had no idea what Jim was referring to.  Freedom?  Matt was a total slave, a piece of property as Jim often pointed out.  Matt was quite content with that but didn’t see how this related to freedom.  Yet his confusion was overwhelmed by his excitement at the tender embrace.


The two bodies became tightly coupled and rolled onto the beach. They were lapped by the warm waves from time to time, which only increased the mutual excitement. Jim didn’t just kiss Matt’s mouth, he adorned his whole body with affection. In due course, that even included Matt’s throbbing penis, as Jim maneuvered them into a 69 embrace.


“I know you’re confused, as usual.  You were never a quick study.  Let me explain.  At the party dad will announce that I’m officially his heir and successor and appoint me to run a series of major family enterprises.  It’s a tremendous honor and I want to do a great job.  But it comes at a cost.  Someone in his and my positions cannot trust anyone, and we do not have real friends.  We have everything else anyone could possibly want, and more, but we are in one sense prisoners of our own wealth and positions.  But you were given the freedom to turn over everything you are to me as your complete owner.  That gives you a kind of freedom.  You don’t have decisions to make or anything to worry about.  You only need to obey and everything else will be decided for you.  You have freedom from having to make decisions or achieve goals.  You are free to focus entirely on your role as my body slave without having to concern yourself with anything else.


“But what I want you to know is that, if I were permitted to have a true friend and lover, it would be you.  That’s why I’ve kept you so long.  You’ll be dead by the end of the day, so I don’t have to worry about issues of trust after the party.  So I think we should consummate our relationship.  I want you to fuck my ass.  No one has ever done that, and likely no one ever will again.  But I want to feel your cock inside me and see if we can shoot our loads together.”


Matt’s emotions were a combination of shock, joy, gratitude, and, most of all, love. He never expected such a reaction from Jim even when they were high school lovers.  This was beyond his wildest dreams.


Under Jim’s direction Matt carefully positioned himself over Jim, who lay on his back with his legs wrapped around Matt’s torso.  Jim wanted them to have the ability to see each other’s faces while they made love, and once positioned he had Matt insert his penis slowly into Jim’s virgin man-hole.  Matt was careful to hold himself in check as he began to thrust in and out, concerned that he was inflicting some pain on his lover and master, but comforted by Jim’s assurances and the obvious pleasure Jim was feeling.  As the thrusts increased in intensity and speed Jim’s cock also began to throb, but it was quite some time before the two young males allowed themselves to reach orgasm – which they did simultaneously.  Both were sexually overwhelmed by the intensity, and they lay side by side still enjoying each other’s’ bodies.  Matt licked Jim’s cum from his chest, and that was followed by more long, deep kisses and caressing.  They went for a swim to clean off and enjoy the memory of so many swims in high school, and when they returned to the beach Jim pulled two beers and some chips from the picnic basket.  This was the first “fresh” beer Matt had since becoming a slave, and it tasted great.  By the end of the second beers their cocks returned to full erections, and they concluded their session with a second set of orgasms following a long 69 session of sucking each other’s cocks and swallowing each other’s cum.  It was glorious.  For the only time in his life, Matt was treated to truly mutual sex. It was a deep, satisfying session of love-making.  Matt felt sexually satiated in a different and more fulfilling way than any time in his life.


“That was very nice,” Jim said after a while.  “thank you.”  Matt was simply too overwhelmed to speak and just kissed and hugged Jim with all his being.


As Jim and Matt finished their lovemaking, a separate scene was underway in Mr. Fletcher’s office.  One of his security guards had entered and asked to make a report.


“I just witnessed something I believe you would want to know bout, sir,” he began.  “It was from the secure satellite camera that tracks Master Jim’s car.  May I play it for you?”


“Of course,” said Jim’s dad.  “Use this screen on the desk next to mine.”  The guard called up a video, and he and Mr. Fletcher watched a recording of Jim’s and Matt’s beach sex, listening to Jim’s explanations to Matt.  “I felt this might be damaging if it got in the wrong hands,” the guard continued.  I don’t think making actual love to a slave is good for Master James’s image.”


“Indeed not,” agreed Mr. Fletcher.  “You have done well to alert me.  Has anyone else seen this, and are there any copies?”


“No, sir.  I immediately placed it into a secure file and destroyed the automatic backup.  I’m the only one who’s seen it besides yourself.  If you’d like, I can destroy this copy form here and there will be no record at all.”


“I’m afraid Jim has been careless.  The slave is going to be destroyed later today.  What if he blurts something out?  I know he’s amazingly loyal to Jim, but as animals begin to endure the level of pain he’s going to receive strange things can happen.”


“Well, sir,” said the guard, smiling.  “Master James is pretty clever, as you know, and you don’t need to worry about that.  As they reached his car he ordered the slave to stick out his tongue.  Once he did, Master James cut it off.  The animal will only be able to make noises, not form words.”


“That makes me feel a lot better about this,” said Mr. Fletcher, chuckling at the cute solution Jim had implemented to remove any risk.  “I think I can chalk this up to a rite of passage.  Jim had a long history with that slave, and he clearly understands this type of relationship can’t happen again.  That’s why he decided to just keep body slaves for a year at a time.  So please destroy this copy, and I assume you know what else needs to be done?”


“Of course, sir.”  The guard quickly deleted the file and stood facing Mr. Fletcher.  “And may I say it has been an honor working for you.”


“You have performed well.”  Mr. Fletcher watched as the young naked guard walked over to a sort of shower area in one corner of the huge office and surveyed a set of tools on a metal table.  As he started to pick one up Mr. Fletcher interjected.  “The one on the far right has been dipped in some fairly fast-acting poison.  Feel free to use that one.”


“Thank you, sir.  It has always inspired me how thoughtful you are of your staff.  But will this give you enough time to enjoy my body as I die?  No point short-circuiting a good fuck by having the “fuckee” die too quickly.  I’m hoping I can provide you one final service besides my meat.”  When Mr. Fletcher assured him it would be fine, since he was planning to achieve orgasm as the body finished its death throws and the poison tended to enhance those, the young man picked up the indicated knife.  He began to masturbate for Mr. Fletcher’s entertainment, while his benevolent employer inserted his cock up the smooth, willing ass.  As the youth started to cum, he slowly cut off his cock, and then his balls.  The poison kicked in, and Mr. Fletcher guided the dying body over a nearby fuck stand as he intensified his fucking.  He reached orgasm just as the body stopped convulsing.  Ironically, he was particularly satisfied since he had lusted after this young man for some time as a snuff target, but he didn’t snuff staff unless they requested it or broke the rules.  This young man had done the right thing given the situation, and that meant Mr. Fletcher was not violating his own rules by snuffing an obedient staff employee.  So he got a great orgasm, there would be no witnesses of Jim’s little indiscretion and therefore no risk, and no harm was done. The shower area in his office was designed to make it easy for house staff to clean up the mess.  Nr, Fletcher was always considerate of his employees.


Once the two former schoolmates had rested, and then cleaned themselves off again with a relaxing swim in the ocean followed by a third set of beers, they returned to the car. Their bodies dried quickly in the sun, and Jim explained to Matt the need to remove his tongue.  Matt’s only concern was that this would mean he wouldn’t be very good at giving blow jobs, which he assumed a lot of the guests would want.  But Jim had thought of that too and explained that he was also going to use a pliers to remove Matt’s teeth so he could “gum” the cocks to orgasm.   It wasn’t quite as precise as using his tongue, but Jim had experimented with it on several slaves and it was quite satisfying.  So Jim removed Matt’s tongue as a precaution (one Matt fully understood, appreciating the fact there was no longer any risk of him saying something that would embarrass Jim), and he then removed the teeth that would get in the way of blow jobs otherwise.  Of course there was no anesthetic for either process, and Matt’s pain added a bit more entertainment for Jim, who had resumed fully the role of owner and master.  Jim then resumed the drive to his beach party. Both were in a festive mood., and in due course Jim spotted the turn-off to the party. It was easy to spot since it had signage consisting of two crosses that each had a young male nailed to it in the late stages of crucifixion. Each had one arm cut off, creating the effect of the remaining arm pointing the way.  All but the index finger on the remaining hand were also gone, and the index finger was extended, literally pointing the way.  The artistic display was Jim’s idea, and he told Matt how cooperative the two slaves had been when he explained the joke and then slowly sawed off an arm.  “I also cut off their fingers and was tempted to leave the middle finger for pointing.  But I thought that would be rude to my guests.  I had them nailed up yesterday morning so the hot sun would burn their skin, helping make sure they’d be dead by the time the party gets into full swing this afternoon.  I figure guests will enjoy the humor, and we can add their bodies to the meat supply.  You’ll also notice they’re identical twins, which I think is a nice touch.  It’s way better than tying some balloons to a post.” The path to the beach was between the two crosses.


“We need to resume our proper roles here,” instructed Jim, who nonetheless still had a little more softness in his voice than usual. “But I hope you enjoyed your respite.”


Matt couldn’t talk any more but gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.  He knew that the informality was over, and that he was once again just Jim’s property.  But the brief moments of affection were all he had ever dreamed of, and he was completely content and grateful.



Party time


The beach party itself was well attended and carefully orchestrated.  Bar-be-cue pits were set up all around the area, each with a freshly impaled, spitted slave roasting over it, providing a wonderful aroma of cooking slavemeat throughout.  Their innards had been removed and replaced with stuffing, ranging from traditional croutons-and-sage-based to slavemeat sausage to combos of fruits and vegetables.  There were also plenty of fuck-stations with young males tied up for easy access and use.  Jim let everyone know there were plenty more slaves in the holding cages, so no need to worry if a guest wanted to snuff the one he was fucking.  But when that happened the bodies were left for a while on the fuck stands so guests could also enjoy fucking the carcass before it cooled.  Whipping posts, racks, and various other torture stations and tools were plentiful, with an unlimited supply of slaves to fill them and to act as grateful human urinals when the need to piss arose.  Jim removed the dildo he’d inserted into Matt so his guests could enjoy fucking him, and Matt received a lot of painful attention from guests who wanted one last chance to fuck Jim’s favorite human toy.  Matt was by no means the only slave who was going to be snuffed that day – the plan was to kill several hundred of them given the importance of the occasion, but he was Jim’s toy and that made him a special target.  This included blow jobs, and Matt did a reasonable job satisfying guests with his gums replacing his tongue in massaging the cocks rammed into his mouth.  Of course, there was also lots of used beer for him to enjoy.  What was different was that guests were invited to use metal-tipped whips on his back, as Jim had joked that Matt wanted to be skinned alive, and this would be a good start.  Matt, of course, cooperated fully, pleased at how happy Jim sounded, perhaps aided a bit by a plentiful supply of beer.


Once Matt was positioned, Jim’s dad pulled Jim aside for a quick chat.


“I saw a video of your interlude with Matt on the beach.  Don’t you think that was a little dangerous?  What if that video had gotten out?”


Jim laughed.  “No risk.  I made sure Jordon was doing camera duty today, and I asked him to do me a little favor.  He was one of the ones who applied to replace Matt, but he didn’t make the finalists, partly because I knew how much you lusted after his ass as a snuff target.  But he was especially eager to serve me.  So he agreed to be sure no one else saw the video and to give you an alert.  We both knew you’d use that as an excuse to have him kill himself, which removes any problem with us taking advantage of our servants, and you’d get to fuck his ass as he died.  So no harm, no foul.  I assume it played out as planned?”


Now it was Mr. Fletcher’s turn to laugh.  “Perfectly.  He was a great fuck, and you were right about my desire to snuff him and fuck his ass while he was dying and again while his body was still convulsing.  I guess you gave me a present on your birthday.  I’m impressed.  You’re turning into a great Alpha leader.”


Jim deeply appreciated the complement.  He and his dad had never been closer.


By the time Jim decided to make a little presentation, Matt had been gang-raped by most everyone.  His back was badly lacerated with welts and cuts from being whipped as he lay over the fuck-bench, most of the skin gone form the effect of the metal-edged whips, and his belly and ass full of piss and cum.


“Thank you all for coming to my party,” Jim began.  “And I think cum-in is the right term.”  Everyone laughed.


“As you know, I’ve decided to dispose of one of my high school sex toys.  I could say I knew Matt so long I even knew him when he was a person. Yet even then he was always my property, since he was my high school project to get a natural slave to realize his true nature and willingly accept it.  I think I got an ‘A.’”  The crowd cheered loudly, pleasing both Jim and Matt.


“I did have some help, of course.  His foster parent made sure his self-esteem never developed, and that his natural masochistic tendencies were maximized.  I want to thank him for a job well done and asked if he’d like a memento of his success.  It turns out he would, so he’ll get to cut off and keep Matt’s cock.”  (Matt was disappointed to hear this, having hoped Jim would be the one cutting it off, but obviously understood his desires were utterly irrelevant.)

“I noticed he’s already fucked Matt’s ass several times this afternoon, making up for the fact we wouldn’t let him do that when he raised Matt.  That way I’d have the fun of being the first fuck, which I enjoyed a lot.”  The crowd cheered again, and Matt’s foster dad took a well-deserved bow, followed by administering a well-placed blow to Matt’s cock and balls.


Besides disposing of Matt, one of our events today is the selection of a replacement body slave.  I liked the idea of having someone willingly choose to abandon their status as a person and choose to be a piece-of-shit sex slave dedicated to suffering pain and humiliation for my amusement and pleasure.  So I inquired if anyone would be interested in that and was amazed at the overwhelming response.  It was touching and heart-warming.  It’s a great testament to how much everyone loves the Alpha males like dad and me, and it shows how well things are going in our new social order.


“We reviewed all the applications and got it down to four finalists, who are here now.”  Jim pointed to four amazingly good-looking young studs standing together nearby.  Each had an astonishingly gorgeous body and a giant cock protruding in front of him.


“I’ve interviewed the finalists and had fun fucking and torturing each of them.  They are each 17, my favorite age to acquire a slave.  Frankly, they are all great and I have had trouble deciding.  When I poised the dilemma to them they all came up with the same idea:  Why not have them compete for the honor at today’s party?  And of course the competition would be to the death, so there would only be one survivor.  That was such a great idea it’s what we’re going to do now.  There will be two contests, each with tow contestants.  And the contests will simply be a fight, with the only rule being that the fight goes on until at least one contestant is dead.  Once the first round of fights is done, there will be only two finalists, and then those two will fight to determine who gets to serve me, with the same simple rule.  They drew lots to see which sets of two would pair off against each other in round one.  I think everyone has placed their bets, so, gentlemen, have at it.”


The first pair entered a wrestling ring next to where Jim was speaking and the fight began immediately.  They were evenly matched, and it was great entertainment to watch s they applied expert wrestling techniques in their combat, slamming each other to the ground and maneuvering to get a sustainable hold.  But as one teen began to stand in order to get a better position, he tripped slightly and was kicked in the nuts by his opponent.  The very brief moment required for recovery form the kick was fatal, as the opponent seized on this advantage and managed to wrap his arm around the gasping boy’s neck.  The neck was quickly broken and that round was over.  As the guests who’d bet on the winner cheered, he looked over at Jim, who nodded, and then proceeded to fuck the dead body, followed by biting off its cock and balls.  The winner ate the cock but kept the balls in his mouth as he crawled on hands and knees over to Jim, drooping the two morsels at his feet like a cat delivering a dead mouse to its owner.   The crowd cheered even louder.


The second match in round one took much longer.  There were no mistakes by either fighter, and they wrestled, punched, and kicked each other mercilessly for nearly an hour.  It finally became apparent one had slightly less stamina, and gradually the other fighter was able to take advantage of his greater stamina and gain an advantage.  It was only slight, but over the course of the hour it became enough.  After an amazingly intense and thrilling fight there was finally one less live animal in the ring.  The winner was so beat up and exhausted from the contest that he was barely able to fuck the body of his vanquished opponent, but he was also so horny form the endeavor he was able to do so, and then also followed the example of his future adversary and delivered the testicles to Jim for Jim’s enjoyment.  There was more cheering, more collecting of bets, and lots more slaves being fucked as the guests were sexually excited by the awesome battles they were watching.


Round two began immediately and was not nearly so much a fight as a slaughter.  The winner of the first contest, whose name was Peter, had hardly been winded from the effort and had plenty of time to rest and recover.  But since there was no break between the rounds the winner of the second fight was physically spent, wounded from numerous kicks and punches to his body, and barely able to defend himself.  So Peter took his time and methodically beat his opponent to death, using his advantage to break bones and kick vulnerable areas like the gut and genitals.  He didn’t bother to break the neck, but just watched as the other broken bones and the massive internal bleeding caused his victim to fall to the mat and writhe in terminal pain while Peter pissed all over him.  This was a great crowd pleaser, and the cheering was intense as Peter first bit off the dead guy’s nipples before once again enjoying a snack of fresh cock followed by delivering the genitals to his new master.  He remained kneeling in front of Jim, his head bowed, and then prostrated himself, kowtow style.   “If you will accept me, I am honored to be your property, master.  I relinquish my citizenship and welcome you to do with me as you wish, only hoping it will be as painful for me as it will be entertaining, sexually stimulating, and, whenever you wish, nourishing for you.”  The appropriateness of the speech caused the crowd to go wild, and Jim was extremely pleased.  He reached down and raised Peter’s head from the ground, proceeding to piss down his throat as he announced that he accepted the live meat as part of his birthday presents.  He then kicked Peter in the balls, hard, sending him sprawling back toward the ring.  Peter thanked Jim, crawled back, and knelt beside him as befit his new role.


“Wow.  That was quite a show and I hope you all enjoyed it.  I sure did, and I look forward to torturing Peter and fucking his ass during the next year.  And no one need worry about the aggression Peter showed.  Like the other contestants he is an extreme masochist, but his desire to serve drove him to fight.  But just to be sure we will administer the drugs needed to turn any aggressive nature into a completely obedient animal, seeking pain and being utterly turned on at the prospect of being tortured and snuffed at next year’s party if he lasts that long.”


Jim’s attention turned back to Matt.  “Now, it wouldn’t be a birthday party without a party game to follow the entertainment, would it?  One of my favorite short stories is “Andy Boy’s Birthday Party,” which has lots of good ideas.  And it’s appropriate for this occasion, since it’s about a fun snuff party for a sex slave on his ‘birthday.’  The cute part is that the birthday status is based on the anniversary of when the kid was snatched and turned into a slave, which was his REAL birthday in his new status.  That works great today since under that definition this is also Matt’s birthday, since he gave himself to me as property on my birthday five years back.   So it’s appropriate to let him be part of the games, like in the story, even getting a featured role.  Right?”  Everyone agreed.


“The early games in the story involved whipping the slave, and you folks have already done a great job of that.”  Jim turned Matt around so everyone could see his back.  “As you can see, you’ve managed to flog his back to the point there is no skin left.  It was thoughtful of you all to help him get his wish to be skinned alive, even if it’s just his back.”  Then Jim faked a look of surprise.  “Oh, wait, folks.  You missed a spot.”  With that Jim picked up a nearby whip, complete with the metal tips, and vigorously laid into Matt’s back.  There hadn’t actually been any skin left, but it was fun for Jim and got a lot of laughs.  Matt was pleased Jim was having so much fun and would have thanked him if he could still talk.


“Well, that takes care of that task.  Our next fun game is ‘Pin the tail on the donkey.’  We don’t have a donkey here, of course, but we do have a jackass.  So, jackass, how about if you make some donkey noises to set the mood?”


Jim pushed Matt into position next to him, and Matt did indeed make donkey noises – which was about all he could do since his tongue was removed.  Jim had earlier instructed him to practice prior to the party, and he was not bad at the imitation.  Again, there was lots of laughter at his expense, as was appropriate.


“Of course, we’ll have to make some adjustments.  Instead of blindfolding the players, we’re going to blindfold the donkey.  We have is a party kit from our friends at SnuffStuff, one of the island’s most successful companies.  This is a new set of products that are becoming popular world-wide as we spread our influence, which include everything you need for a fun snuff.  They were the ones who supplied those great whips that we all used to skin the donkey’s back.  This set is for our donkey game.  Let’s start by blindfolding him, while those of you nearby start to choose toys to pin him.”  Jim rummaged in a large bag and had the rest of the content distributed among the nearby guests.  He then blindfolded Matt.


The game was great fun.  Guests selected skewer-style needles and inserted them all over Matt’s body.  The cock and balls were the first target, with Jim starting the fun by inserting a large needle into Matt’s piss-slit.  The clever part of that needle was the fact it could be easily heated to burn the inside of the cock, which Jim did accompanied by Matt’s intense screams of pain.  Others were inserted cross-ways into the cock, with about a dozen penetrating the balls.  His nipples were effectively removed with two biting clamps, to which weights were added until the flesh was ripped off.  His butt became a pin-cushion, and more needles and weights assured his pecs were also pretty much ripped off.  His elbows were bent back and broken, and other guests cut off fingers to keep as souvenirs.  The best part was that the drugs with which Matt had been injected in prep for the party kept him awake and prevented the effects of system shock as his body was being destroyed.


When Matt finally began to show the serious effects of the multiple wounds that would cumulatively be fatal, Jim interrupted the fun.


“Well, you’ve all certainly pinned the donkey.  But you haven’t pinned a TAIL on it.  Don’t worry.  I have just the solution, again form our friends at SnuffStuff.”  Jim held up a very large dildo, which had a handle at the bottom.  “This is their Gut-Cleaner, part of the Deadly Dildo line of products.  It’s also brand new, based on the story I mentioned, and I think you’ll be impressed.  I’ll take the blindfold off so our donkey can see it and get an idea what a wonderful tail this will make for him.  And I’ll tie the scarf to the handle so it’s an official tail.”  The dildo looked a lot like a giant pinecone.  As Jim held it up he pressed a button on the handle and the dildo expanded as a series of sharp claws emerged from the sides.  Jim pushed the button again, and they retracted so that the dildo was again pinecone shaped.    “Once I insert this where it belongs, I’ll push the button again.  Then I’ll pull it out.  The coolest part is that there is an internal infrared camera that will project what’s happening inside our donkey onto the screen behind me.  I think everyone will enjoy the effect.”


Matt had had hundreds of dildos rammed up his ass over the years, but this one was the largest ever.  Jim didn’t even try to ease it in.  He wanted the maximum pain, so he shoved it as rapidly as it would go, ripping Matt’s ass big time, as evidenced by the flow of blood leaking from it.   Matt was past the point of being able to scream, but his whole demeanor left no doubt about the intensity of his agony.


As the dildo moved further inside Matt, the infrared camera showed a remarkably good image of what was going on.  Guests could see it move further into the intestines, and then cut its way into the lower stomach cavity.  At that point Jim pushed the button and the claws extended, cutting into the vulnerable internal flesh.


Then the real fun began.  Jim started to pull out the dildo, extremely slowly.  The claws had lodged themselves into the flesh, and at first simply extended further as he pulled.   The result was the claws pulling down the internal meat that it had cut into.  Matt was being gutted from within, and his innards started to make a slow journey down to his asshole.  Jim pointed out what was happening as the camera showed the intestines being ripped to shreds, and there was a general cheer when it finally reached the prostrate, which was surprisingly whole when it exited the asshole.  One of the guests picked it up and held it for everyone to see, taking a bite of it out of curiosity to see what this essential male organ tasted like.  “Yuck.  Clearly not as tasty as the balls,” he announced, spitting out the bite and tossing the rest back onto the now-bloody sand.  Jim, ever the gracious host, cut off what was left of Matt’s balls, handing one to his guest as a “chaser” to the bite of prostate, and eating the other himself.


The dildo itself finally came out coated in meat and gore.  Sadly, Matt was so far gone there was no real fun torturing him further.  So Jim had the various needles quickly removed, and Matt was placed on a serving table alongside a set of carving knives.  Jim thanked his guests for such a great party game, and, pointing out that Matt was, amazingly, still alive, invited them to enjoy some fresh live meat.  “Matt said he wanted to join us for dinner, back when he could talk, and it turns out he’ll be able to – at least for a little while.  I’m sure he’ll want to see people enjoy the meat they choose, so be sure to position it so he can watch.  I’ll demonstrate for you.”  Jim started by carving a generous slice of breast meat, holding it in front of Matt’s face as he ate it raw.  It was as good as Jim had anticipated it would be, and Matt was still conscious enough to realize his master was indeed enjoying dining on his flesh, as Matt had always hoped.  But Matt didn’t last long as the other guests aggressively cut off favorite parts. Everyone did agree the meat was very tasty, complementing Jim on how he’d adjusted Matt’s bodyfat level and added fruit juices to make it more flavorful.


The party went on for many hours, and Matt was quickly forgotten.  Jim’s attention turned to Peter, whom he fucked and tortured for the amusement of the guests.  It was great fun, and while Jim did briefly think of Matt when he took his morning dump the next day, that was the last time he did.  Matt had served his purpose well, and Jim had grown into the awesome Alpha Male he was meant to be.


Dinner Celebration By Gay Slavemeat

I enjoy writing and reading gay snuff stories, and I like to imagine an awesome world run by Alpha Males, where environmental issues are addressed, nations are at peace, prosperity is the norm, and there is a positive, stable social order.  A select group of Alpha Males achieve total dominance, with a large beta class of citizens who live productive, fulfilling, but controlled lives.  Supporting both groups would be a vast, disposable class of male slaves.  We would be naked animals assigned dangerous and degrading tasks to support the needs and desires of our owners. Our bodies would be tortured, used sexually, and destroyed at the whims of our masters, with zero limits on what is done to us or what we are ordered to do.  Gladiatorial contests among us are far more brutal and fatal than ancient Rome, providing entertainment and releasing tensions that otherwise might lead to conflict among citizens.  Medicine would advance rapidly with us as experimental lab animals that would be plentiful and totally disposable. (For example, new drugs would enable intense, satisfying orgasms as often as citizens wanted, complete with impressive loads of sperm, while slave orgasms become incidents of searing pain, not pleasure, since pain is more fun to watch and what we deserve.)  We would replace methane-emitting cattle as the prime source of meat, reducing global warming and giving citizens a fulfilling sense of power as we are butchered alive and express our appreciation for the honor of being part of their meal.  Our pathetic lives would comprise only pain and humiliation, and would mean nothing; our bodies would be food, turned to shit in the bellies of our masters.  We would be bred and trained to understand that this is what we deserve.


This is a celebration story from that glorious utopia.  Sadly, it’s all fiction, including names of characters.



Chris was excited about the evening’s dinner party.  It was a big event for someone as shy as Chris to host, with most of his best friends and colleagues from work attending.  He had hired a professional party planner for the occasion, and ordered a prime live specimen from Zambian Meats to assure his guests would enjoy dining on the best quality slave neat.  It all cost a lot of money, and Chris wasn’t rich, but it was worth it to impress his friends and assure they had a terrific evening.  He had also researched a new recipe that he was anxious to prepare.


Both the meat source and the planner were due at his condo at 10 am, and Chris was doubly excited when the doorbell rang at precisely on time.  He liked punctuality.   There were two young males at the door, one smartly dressed in a tux and the other totally naked.  Both were unusually handsome, and the naked male had a fantastic build with a solid erection that showed off the size of its awesome cock.  Zambian Meat had a reputation for quality, but it looked like they had outdone themselves Chris eagerly invited them in.


“Hi, my name’s Evan,” the guy in the tux introduced himself.  “You must be Chris.  I’ve brought the live meat, and look forward to helping you prepare for and enjoy your party.  I saw on the order that you’re up for a major promotion – executive assistant to a member of the Alpha Council – so I realize how important this is to you.  You can count on me to make sure it goes exactly how you want it.  Are there any questions I can answer to start with?”


Chris was ecstatic, and as he looked at the two males he realized his own cock was getting hard.  As a young gay guy himself, he enjoyed the sight of other attractive young males -especially naked ones with a hard-on.


“Welcome.  I’ll admit I’m excited about the party.  This is a big endeavor for me and I want it to go great.  My guests are people I really like and care about.  So, I’ve pushed my budget to the limit, and am delighted to see how appealing the meat seems to be.  And you’re amazing looking yourself.  As you can see, I’m getting pretty turned on.   But I do have a preliminary request.  You look sexy in your tux, but I wonder if you’d be OK taking it off and stripping naked.  My boss is Dr. Gordon Stuart, a senior member of the Alpha Council, and he is attending.  Like most of the Council he is a gay nudist, as am I.  Out of respect I’ve made the party a nudist event.  All the guests are also gay males, so I plan for the party to start with a fun orgy.  You might be out of place with a tux on, but I’m open to your planning ideas.”


Evan had no problem with the request, explaining that he too preferred to be naked, and immediately starting to strip.  He said Zambian’s party division didn’t presume everyone wanted it that way.  He did suggest he leave on the tux bow tie as an identification of his role, which Chris thought was a good idea.  In no time at all Evan was naked, and had a nice hard cock illustrating his interest in the event.


Chris next turned his attention to the meat slave, using his iPhone to read the information contained in the microchip implanted in the animal.  The information was interesting and useful.  Had the animal been scheduled to remain alive instead of being harvested for its meat, it would have turned 19 years old the next day.  Its body-fat ratio was low but not extremely low, which meant the meat would be flavorful but still lean.


“Are you excited to make the trivial contribution of your body and your worthless life to help entertain and feed my guests?” Chris asked.  “And are you aware that one of the people eating you will be a member of the Alpha Council?”


The slave was clearly not aware of the guest, and appeared almost shaken with the news.  “I am deeply honored, sir, and worry that my body is not worthy of such an honor.  As human cattle I know this is my highest and only even remotely useful use, and I am very excited at the prospect of being killed and eaten as I deserve to be.  But the thought of being eaten by such a distinguished person is overwhelming.”


Chris was pleased with the answer, and Evan interjected.  “At Zambian we take pride in all the meat we breed and raise, but we are very careful to make sure only the best quality meat, with the best attitude, is served to Council members.  So, I chose this meat slave personally to be sure it would meet our standards and help assure the success of your party.”


Chris again addressed the meat slave.  “I see you would have turned 19 tomorrow, and I see you’ve been used as a sex toy for the past two years.  What were you used for?”


“Zambian stresses making sure its meat slaves are adequately degraded before we are harvested.  In my case I was rented to a large shopping center to serve shoppers sexually.  I wore only a metal collar, which was attached to a wall with a long chain.  That way guys could fuck me in any position they wanted, either up my ass or in my mouth.  I’d spend the day getting fucked, with lots of cum and piss going into my two openings.  I would also entertain the shoppers by having orgasms whenever told to do so, which meant they could enjoy watching my body shoot loads of cum while I endured the appropriate, severe agony that an orgasm causes for slaves.  As you know, we are now able to shoot loads of cum almost continuously, as citizens can do, but we have been drugged so the experience is one of extreme pain, not pleasure.  Shoppers could enjoy laughing at my gyrations as the pain shot through my body.  But since I was scheduled to be used as high-quality meat, shoppers were not permitted to torture me for fear it would damage the meat.  Of course, there were other slaves available for that purpose, and they were replaced frequently as they were tortured and killed.  My purpose for the two years was to provide sexual pleasure and entertainment, and to be conditioned to realize just how worthless I am and how much I deserve to suffer.  When the mall was closed I did janitorial work, personally licking clean the toilets and urinals.  Then I would exercise for several hours to keep the meat lean and fit.”


Chris checked the chip readout on the slave, and saw that it had been butt-fucked 36.950 times during the prior two years – about 50 times per day.  It had also had about the same number of pain-inducing orgasms.  There wasn’t a record of the amount of cum or piss it had swallowed or had been sent up its ass.  Chris raised a concern with Evan:


“That certainly seems a suitable use for a slave, and I know Zambian needs to get a little return on its investment prior to selling the meat for harvest.  But I worry whether its asshole is in good, tight shape.  Also, I have read about the impact of the pain from orgasms having driven some slaves insane and not mentally functional given how extreme it is.  It’s obvious the exercise was effective a to its appearance, but is this meat still in good shape internally and mentally?”


“Great questions,” Evan responded.  “I can see why you have been up for such a big promotion.  But I can assure you the meat’s condition is still prime quality.  We made sure to repair the asshole as needed at the end of each day, restoring its tightness, and I can personally assure you it’s very tight.  But obviously you should test it yourself, and maybe that’s the next thing we should do.  As for the mental part, we’ve found slaves respond in several ways.  True, some go insane and need to be harvested right away.  But most respond as this animal has done – reacting to the pain by recognizing how appropriate it is for them to suffer, and often seeking out more pain so they can provide more entertainment to people by suffering more.  They achieve a level of masochism that is essentially total.  So, this slave is quite sincere when he tells you how much it’s anxious to be killed and eaten.  It knows that’s its only way to make any contribution.  Having its body spend its 19th birthday in the bellies of real people, providing nutrition and being processed into shit is the only reason it was bred and allowed to exist this long.”  The look of acceptance, even joy, on the slave’s face convinced Chris of the accuracy of Evan’s analysis.


“Well, it’s been an hour since I last had an orgasm, and I’m pretty horny, so let’s see what its ass feels like.”  Chris signaled to the slave, who immediately knelt in front of Chris and sucked his cock.  At a further signal, it leaned forward and grabbed its ankles so Chris could insert his cock into its asshole.  Chris was quite pleased, as the ass tightened nicely around his cock, providing satisfying pleasure while Chris pumped, at first slowly and then with increasing motion as he neared climax.  Chris had also instructed the slave that it, too, should cum, and the two of them did so simultaneously, bringing powerful pleasure to Chris and extreme pain to the slave.  A part of Chris’s pleasure was enjoying the slave’s obvious pain.  This animal would do nicely to start the orgy, before it was officially turned into a main course for dinner.


“I am extremely pleased,” concluded Chris as he emptied a load of piss down the slave’s throat.  “You’ve done well and I will make sure you get a large tip for your efforts.  But feel free to fuck it yourself if you’d like.  I wouldn’t mind watching you shoot, and watching it suffer a bit more humiliation and pain.”  Evan thanked Chris for the promise of a big tip, and took advantage of the offer, putting on a nice show while Chris masturbated as he watched, sending this load down the slave’s throat as Evan sent his up its ass. And the slave once again provided an entertaining demonstration of its painful orgasm.


“By the way, does the slave have a name?” Chris asked.  Evan laughed out loud.  “Of course not.  That would be a waste.  Who would want to name a piece of meat?”  Chris joined in the laughter, having gotten the answer he expected.  The slave looked confused, since the concept was beyond his understanding.


Chris and Evan had enjoyed a fun hour chatting and fucking the dinner entree’.  But now it was time to get to work setting up the party.


Chris had rented a free-standing glass oven in which to cook the meat, and they started by having the slave lie in the oven so they could adjust it for a good fit and view.  Chris wanted the guests to be able to watch as their dinner baked.    The slave, of course, cooperated fully and thanked them for the honor of being chosen to be part of their meal.


Next, Evan guided Chris as he started to prepare the meat.  The slave lay on its back while Evan selected a gutting knife form a set of tools he’d brought.


“The recipe you found is promising, and not one I’ve tried myself.  So, this should be fun.  I think the key is getting the stuffing well situated so it can cook along with the meat itself.  We can make room for a lot by getting rid of some of the organs the meat no longer needs.  I suggest we start by opening its belly – which has the added advantage of being a lot of fun to do and exceptionally painful for the slave.  Being gutted alive really hurts given all the nerve endings in that area.”


Chris was concerned: “Won’t that kill it?  I want the meat alive when the guests arrive so they can fuck it and then enjoy watching me snuff it.  That’s part of the fun.”


“No worries.  If we do a careful job, it will stay alive for hours, and do so in severe pain.  The key is to remove the organs that are not needed short term, and tie off the arteries and veins.   I’ve learned how to do it so there’s no internal bleeding, which means the juices of the stuffing will permeate the cavity we create and season the meat.”


Chris was reassured and eager to begin.  Evan let him do the initial cutting, starting just above the genitals and slowly brining the knife up to the base of the rib cage.  Evan had injected the slave with drugs that assured it would remain awake to endure the pain and humiliation.  As Chris finished the initial gutting, using the knife to cut horizontally under the rib cage so they could easily peel back the skin of the slave’s belly, the slave thanked its tormenters once again for the honor of being used. But its screams as it was gutted were the more pleasing sounds.


Once Chris peeled back the skin to reveal the slave’s inner organs, Evan supervised more closely and they worked as a team.  Evan pointed out the needless organs, including the stomach itself, kidneys, bladder, and intestines.  Chris cut them off with a sharper knife, tossing them into a container.  They would be used to feed other slaves, consistent with the focus on environmental recycling even of the waste from slaves.  As each was removed, Evan carefully cauterized the arteries and veins that had been attached, so that there was no internal bleeding.  He also cleaned out the cavity form the blood that had flowed during the initial fun, and drained all the body fluids that were present in the belly cavity.  Of course, he was careful to leave the nerve endings exposed since they transmitted the pain that was generated by the organ removals.


“We haven’t done anything that disables the heart or lungs, and experiments proved that slaves will stay alive, awake and in pain for at least 8 hours in this condition.  There was a ton of research that went into the drugs and procedures we just used.  That’s yet another benefit of having millions of lab animals to experiment on, where we don’t have to worry about any limits on what we do to them.  Moreover, we also haven’t done anything to the genitals and we’ve left key sex organs like the prostate in place.  So, our research also shows the animal is still able to achieve orgasm.  And there’s no reason your guests can’t enjoy fucking it, maybe a gangbang depositing a bunch of cum into the ass that can add to the flavoring.  With its intestines and other obstacles gone, the cum will mix nicely with the stuffing.”


Chris was now thrilled, and expressed his appreciation and enthusiasm.   He had clearly hired the right party planner.  The two of them then did the stuffing, filling the slave’s belly with a flavorful mix of fruits, vegetables, and croutons that featured a strong pineapple compote.  The meat would be flavored by this as it cooked, and the flavor of the meat would in turn enhance the stuffing.  The guests would enjoy an outstanding meal.


Chris had one other question: “How do you think I should do the actual kill?  I’d like it to be as entertaining and painful as possible.”


Evan had the answer for this as well.  “We have completed some new research I think you’ll appreciate.  As you know, slaves are given drugs at birth that turn orgasms from pleasure to pain.  In terms of great medical research, it’s right up there with eliminating diseases and extended lifespans of citizens, and enabling males to have essentially constant orgasms when we feel like it (which of course is always!).  We’re constantly working on new ways to increase the pain, and have come across a new option that I think words well for your party.  We have a new drug that can be injected into the slave prior to its final orgasm.  The drug increases the intensity of the pain by at least ten times the normal level.  And as you know the normal level for orgasmic pain for slaves is near the top of what an animal can survive.  So, this means the final orgasm is fatal.  Better still, however, the death spasms last for at least 10 minutes and we get to watch the animal die in unbelievable agony, gyrating and screaming throughout.  It’s pure fun to watch and is a sure bet to bring everyone to their own awesome orgasm of pure pleasure.  It’s brand new and I doubt even your guest of honor has seen it in action.


Chris couldn’t believe his good luck.  This was going to be a great day!  He of course accepted the offer, and he and Evan finished their planning.  Once the slave finally died, shooting its last load over its belly and chest, Evan would do some quick cutting and remove the heart and lungs, adding some more stuffing to the dead animal’s innards.  He would also drain the blood that was flowing to keep other limbs alive, and remove the head.  That would be drained and passed around among the guests for those who wanted to fuck it, which was a popular pastime at parties.  While this was underway, Chris would thank everyone for coming (and Cuming) and introduce Dr. Stuart.  That would start the ceremony about promotion to be his special assistant, and the official celebration would get underway while the room was filled with the aroma of the slave cooking in the oven.  When the meat was ready, Evan would invite the guests to take a seat and Evan would carve and serve the meat.  It was an outstanding plan.


Chris and Evan had several hours to wait until the guests started to arrive, during which they enjoyed each other’s great bodies, and shot a few loads each up the ass of the slave.  They got to know each other, sharing stories about their careers.  Chris filled Evan in on the process of the job promotion, adding a lot of background that would help Evan in his role of party manager.  When it got to be time for the party to start, they fucked each other one more time, showered together and waited by the door.


The guests were prompt and arrived right on schedule.  Chris wasn’t surprised, since it would be very rude for anyone not to have arrived prior to when Dr. Stuart arrived (which was 15 minutes exactly after when the party was scheduled).  After all, being at a party with a member of the Alpha Council was a great honor for members of the beta class like Chris and his guests.


Dr. Gordon Stuart was one of the most senior members of the Council.  He was in his mid-30s, and handsome even for an Alpha leader.  Even surrounded by two dozen young, fit gay guys averaging in their early 20s, he was the most impressive and fit person there.  Unlike some members of the Council, he was also known for his kindness and thoughtfulness for members of the Beta class of citizens, feeling a responsibility to assure their lives were positive and productive.  It was not unusual for him to attend functions with lower class citizens, as he was doing this evening at Chris’ invitation.


Chris introduced Evan, who took the lead in explaining the plans for the evening, adorned only in his tux bow tie.  The two dozen guests were all naked and all exhibiting rigid hard-ons.  So Evan suggested they start with a gang rape of the evening’s meat, a suggestion that was quite well received.  Dr. Stuart went first, of course, and complemented Chris on obtaining such an obviously high-quality specimen.  Chris beamed with appreciation.  The evening not only started will, but as guests enjoyed their drinks it seemed to get even better.


The kill was a highlight, and Chris invited Dr. Stuart to do the honors by masturbating the slave.  But consistent with his typical courtesy, Dr. Stuart deferred to Chris and Chris had the pleasure of jerking off the meat while also fucking it. They both came together, and as the slave put on its amazing final show, screaming and gyrating wonderfully as it shot a giant load of cum all over its belly and chest, Chris enjoyed continuing to pump its tight ass.   Everyone else also enjoyed an added orgasm as they watched, massively turned on by the length and intensity of the slave’s fatal orgasm.  In fact, they were a bit spent once the show was over.  That worked well with the timing, as Chris thanked everyone for attending, especially Dr. Stuart, and turned the ceremony over to him.


“Thanks, Chris.  I think you have put on an amazing party and I’m pleased to be here.  As you know, I enjoy mingling with all our citizens, whether Alpha or Beta class.  And Chris and indeed all of you are great role models for our betas.  Now, as you also know, I am taking on a new executive assistant, since my existing one, Chad, has caught the eye of another member of the Council, who has decided to make him his official consort.  This is of course a great honor for Chad, being the husband of a Council member, and I am always delighted when my staff get a promotion.  But this time I’ve decided to choose someone from the beta class.”  A cheer went up from the grateful betas in the room.  “It’s an extremely helpful and prestigious role – the highest available to any beta – so I have been careful in making my choice.


“I finally got it down to two finalists, Chris and Marcus.  And I notice Marcus is also here, which is thoughtful on Chris’ part.  But that’s how Chris is.


“I let Chris know my choice several days ago, and he suggested this party to celebrate.  But before I make the official announcement, I want to clarify my reasons.  Both Chris and Marcus have all the skills needed for the job and either would have been an excellent choice.  But part of the job involves always being available for my sexual use, and therefore my sexual tastes are quite relevant.  Let’s have the two finalists stand side by side so I can explain.”  Marcus came forward and stood next to Chris, both facing the rest of the guests and both with extreme erections that were dripping pre-cum.  Marcus looked nervous and was sweating a bit.


“As you can see, these are each terrific male specimen.   I’d enjoy fucking either of them – and I’ve done that a lot of times, by the way, as part of my selection process.  I also know they are both more than willing to act as a human urinal if there is not a slave nearby, although that is rarely needed.  And I enjoy watching them jerk off.  So it’s been a tough choice on that criterion as well.  Fuck, as you can see even their cocks are the same size!  When all is said and done, it ultimately came down to which body turned me on the most.  The only real difference is that Chris is a bit older and more mature, at age 23 v. Marcus’ age 17.  And that’s why I have chosen Marcus.  I find him a total turn-on, and he is at his amazing sexual peak.  He will be my new assistant.  Congratulations Marcus.”


Everyone was startled, especially Marcus.  But Chris was not, standing next to Marcus and congratulating him after thanking Dr. Stuart for the honor of being considered.  The other guests quickly recovered, cheered, and added their congratulations.  But Dr. Stuart had one more point to make.


“I realize you’re all surprised.  Chris and I have accomplished our little joke and I’m pleased at the reactions.  So let me explain further.


“When I told Chris that he was not my choice, he responded with total class.  He suggested a party to surprise Marcus, and that has obviously gone amazingly well.  But Chris also realized there would be possible tension on Marcus’s part if Chris stayed on my office staff.  He could be perceived as a threat and he did not want to have anything get in the way of my enjoyment of Marcus’ body or with Marcus’ success at his job.  Chris has an announcement of his own.”


“Thank you. Dr. Stuart.  I am overwhelmingly honored that you agreed to join our party.  Your kindness toward members of the Beta class is deeply appreciated by all of us.”  The crowd again cheered.


“I do want Marcus to succeed and I do not want to get in the way.  I don’t think I should remain on your staff.  Also, I do not want to violate protocol on hosting a member of the Alpha class, which this party risks doing, and with Dr. Stuart’s permission I’ve come up with a solution.  The standard is to offer Council members a choice of cooked meat or live meat.  I have not yet provided the live meat for Dr. Stuart to enjoy, and I know he prefers it.  He has often commented that he thinks it’s healthier, and it gives him the added pleasure of making the meat suffer a bit more and be humiliated by watching itself be eaten alive.  I have decided that I should be the live meat.  I encourage all of you to enjoy my body as part of your evening feast.  Evan will help you know where to cut into me so you get the best meat and don’t accidently kill me too soon.  To that end, I will relinquish my status as a citizen and become a slave.  That removes me as an impediment to Marcus, fulfills the meat choice protocol, and will add to your enjoyment as you destroy my body.  I trust none of you will be confused by my prior status as a citizen, and will be as brutal and vicious as possible.  No one should ever hold back in torturing a slave.  But before I become one, and while I can still make my own decisions, I do have one small gesture I’d like to make.   I want to be the first to facilitate Dr. Stuart bonding with Marcus in his new role, and I know Dr. Stuart is always gracious about that sort of thing.  So, I suggest they share a token of my respect.  Well, actually two tokens.”  With that, Chris picked up a nearby knife that he had conveniently positioned, and cut into his scrotum.  Chris then cut out his testicles, rinsing them off and offering his man-seeds to Dr. Stuart, who ate one of them and shared the other one with Marcus.  As the two enjoyed the first donation from Chris’ body, the room cheered wildly.  Evan quickly cauterized the wound so Chris would not lose consciousness or bleed to death.  Then Chris officially relinquished his citizenship, an act accepted by Dr. Stuart as a member of the Council.  The citizen named Chris was now dead.  Evan handed the slave a microchip to swallow, registering it as a meat slave ready for harvest.  There was now a nameless meat slave to be dealt with that needed an owner.  Evan asked Dr. Stuart if he would accept ownership of the new slave, but Dr. Stuart declined and pointed to Marcus, who eagerly accepted his new property and spoke next.


“Thank you, Dr. Stuart.  This is an amazing honor to be your assistant and I will do everything I can to fulfill your every desire.   That includes whatever you might want to do with or to my body, which is always yours to command and use.   And I invite you, and then everyone, to make use of my new slave.  Once Evan gets it prepared I suggest we start by torturing it, although I do want to be sure it stays alive while Dr. Stuart, and then all of us, enjoy its living flesh.  I also recognize that it’s now a eunuch and only has one last orgasm it will be able to provide for our amusement.  So I’m asking Evan to inject not only the drugs that turn slave orgasms into events of pain, but to inject the added dosage used to make the orgasm fatal and provide us with such great fun watching.  Clearly this slave, like all slaves, deserves that added pain and humiliation.”  Marcus had totally bought into the transition from citizen to slave, made easier because he never had liked Chris the citizen.  After all, they were competitors and Marcus was not nearly as gracious as his deceased adversary had been.


On cue, Evan roughly dragged the slave to the middle of the living room, with guests kicking it as he did so, and turned a switch on the wall.  This caused a set of metal shackles to drop form the ceiling, and a large metal pan with a drain to slide out from the wall.  Evan attached the slave’s wrists to the chains that now hung from the ceiling, adjusting the height with another switch so the animal dangled with its feed slightly off the ground.  That way the body could swing free as it was beaten.  The apparatus was a standard feature of homes in the world of Alpha Males, so citizens could conveniently enjoy torturing slaves.  The pan and drain were to catch the fluids that would be flowing from the slave’s body soon, making clean-up easy.  There was of course no resistance, and Evan also distributed appropriate implements for the guests’ fun like whips, knives, and electric dildos.  The final prep was the shot to induce the final fatal orgasm, and a dousing with a “skin cleaner” that depilated the slave’s skin so that the torso and limbs were completely hairless (no one wants to deal with body hair on their meat) and the nerve endings were more sensitive to pain (adding to the fun).


Dr. Stuart took the lead by cutting off and eating a generous helping of live, raw meat form the slave’s thigh and then fucking its ass as he enjoyed the meat.  As he finished his first helping, Evan made sure the bleeding was controlled and Marcus cut off more meat, offering it to his new Boss as Dr. Stuart kept pumping the tight slave ass.  After Dr. Stuart had his fill and shot his load, the orgy of torturing and fucking the new slave began in earnest.  At that point Dr. Stuart excused himself, having accomplished his goals and enjoyed a terrific party complete with delicious live meat.  But he told Marcus not to report for work until late the next morning. He wanted Marcus and his friends to enjoy their orgy and dinner without having to defer to him, characteristic of Dr. Stuart’s generosity.  Everyone expressed their gratitude for his attendance and thoughtfulness, realizing how fortunate they were to have such Alpha Males ruling them.


The torture and orgy session lasted quite a while, and the slave was in severe pain throughout.  Oddly, however, its sexual level was enhanced compared to what the animal had experienced before.  The freedom of turning over all control, and knowing its body was being used for such an apocopate purpose was somehow exile rating and liberating.  Several of Chris’ closest friends had started a contest to see who could do the most damage with a whip, and the slave was quite sincere when it expressed its appreciation for the honor of being the target, as it was when it also thanked guests for the opportunity to watch as they cut and ate delicious parts of its body.


The other slave was done cooking in due course and the two meat sources were laid side by side for the guests to choose.  Evan carefully guided the guests as they cut into the live meat, which proved the more popular, to be sure it stayed alive.  Once everyone had enjoyed the delicious dinner, commenting on how good the recipe for baked slave had tu8rned out, Marcus masturbated the dying animal and they all enjoyed watching it shoot an amazing load, using up all the sperm that would never be replaced for lack of testicles and lack of life, putting on a show every bit as amusing as the original slave had done.


After everyone left, well into the early morning because of another satisfying orgy, Evan chopped up the two bodies and tossed the remains into the container used earlier for the organs of the cooked slave.  The undesirable remains of the slaves would be used to keep other slaves alive until they were themselves harvested.


The dinner celebration had played out exactly as Chris had hoped.

Camping with Chris By Gay Slavemeat


Chris is a real person who reads this site and sent me an email.  It turns out his fantasies are as fucked up as mine, so I wrote a story for him about how it all might turn out.  I had some “happy endings” as I wrote it, and he reported a large one as he finished reading it.  So, mission accomplished.  I hope others have the same reaction.  Let me know your thoughts, and remember that feedback and ideas are always welcome.  (BTW, I’m the character “Matt” in the story, as with many of mine, which is my real first name.  Loki I leave to your imagination.)


The Eagle Bar in Pittsburg had changed a lot since Loki purchased it a few years ago, remodeled it, and started hanging out there.  But in many ways, it had returned to its heritage, the days when it was the premier gay S&M bar in Pennsylvania.  There are lots of gay leather bars named “The Eagle,” but Loki had turned this one into something special, something exceptionally kinky and extreme.  It was a commercial success he was proud to own, attracting patrons, both masters and slaves, from all over the Northeast and beyond.


Of course, Loki was always proud, and he had a lot to be proud of.  He was especially proud of his pure Nordic heritage, believing it to be the master race.  He was named after the smartest of the Norse gods, and the one who was often evil, and he viewed himself in many ways as the god Loki.  It started with his gorgeous, muscled, Nordic body.  He was 23, recently finished with college, and recipient of a massive inheritance.  Buying and fixing up the bar was a trivial expense to him.  Loki was into extremely dominant gay sex, so the bar was primarily a way to attract other guys he could dominate, torture, and fuck, and to show off his phenomenal blond physique.  He also attracted a group of like-minded masters who shared his lust and joined in the fun. But he only associated with those who were also rich, fit, and good looking.


Loki always wore leather, but he was usually shirtless, sometimes with a masters’ leather harness to highlight his dominance.  Unlike other leather bars, nudity and public sex were encouraged, and sometimes he wore nothing but his steel-toed leather boots, especially when he was but-fucking one of the slaves.  That way he could show off how utterly massive his cock was.  The boots were the etiquette at the bar – dominant males wore at least leather boots; submissive fags were barefoot and naked except for a possible slave collar, cock ring, nipple clips, or weights attached to their balls.  There was a fully equipped torture chamber in the back complete with fuck stations, whipping posts, a rack, slings, and lots of other fun equipment with which a submissive could be restrained, tortured, and gang-raped.  There was also no rule against having a slave bend over a bar stool to get its ass pummeled, which happened a lot, often with Loki doing the initial drilling before the rest of the bar joined in.  All this required an “understanding” with the local cops, who got free drinks and admission along with the use of the subs of their choice.  Loki had struck gold in the market and was attracting gay S&M enthusiasts from near and far.  He charged a bundle and had already recovered his investment along with a tidy profit after only a couple of years.  His bar was now well known nationally as the best place for intense gay S&M, with no limits.  Loki wasn’t into limits.  If a patron damaged one of the slaves Loki kept available as waters and sex objects, the patron just had to pay Loki a fine and cover the veterinary bill to get the animal repaired.    The fine was a lot larger if it had to be replaced.  Loki viewed himself as a deity entitled to punish his subjects however it pleased him to do so.  And it pleased him a lot.


On this night, Loki was holding forth to some of his favorite fellow leather masters.  He’d been gone for a few days and was describing a camping trip he’d especially enjoyed.  He signaled to a nearby waiter, who knew the signal and quickly brought Loki a large stein of beer.  At a second signal, the “waiter,” who was a sex slave named Matt (one of the ones Loki kept naked and confined to the bar) knelt under the table and unbuttoned the fly on Loki’s leather pants.  The slave used its mouth to gently remove Loki’s hardening cock from his pants and swallow as much as it could of the giant penis.  As soon as Loki felt the slave’s tongue on Loki’s dick, Loki released a load of piss down the slave’s throat, commenting to his buddies, “gotta make room for the next load of beer.”  Everyone laughed, and the slave was soon occupied draining piss and getting beers for Loki’s audience.  As each master finished his load, he kicked the slave in the nuts with his steel-toed boots to signal that the slave should now service another master.  The slave’s balls were swollen from the multiple kicks, but it still maintained the required erection.  Matt liked being kicked in the balls and used as a human urinal.  Later, they’d get around to using Matt sexually, enjoying how utterly appreciative the animal was for the pain and humiliation it received – and deserved.  But for now, they wanted to hear about Loki’s adventure.


“So. Master Loki, what were you up to?  We know this was your annual renewal retreat, and we’re all dying to hear your story.  From the way you’re celebrating, I am guessing it’s a good one.  They always are.”  (Loki’s buddies had long ago learned that flattering him helped keep them in his circle of sycophantic favorites.  And, in fact, he was a great storyteller and his S&M activities were extreme and awesome.  They inspired his entourage to some intense public orgasms.)


“Well, you’re not dying as much as the guy I just finished with. His name was Curtis, or Carl, or Chris or something like that.  I think it was Chris.  But it doesn’t matter.  He didn’t really deserve a name.  He was a total loser, but an entertaining and eager one.  I’ll go with Chris.  Or cum-slut.  It actually began a couple months ago.”


Loki described how he had met Chris at the bar of a hotel in New York City.  Chris was in New York marketing some product or other, and Loki had just closed a deal to buy the hotel.  “The Eagle is really profitable, but I have a lot of money to invest, and renovating medium-quality hotels is a terrific investment.  I’m going to turn that one into the best gay S&M hotel in the world, complete with a no limits bar modeled after this one.  I was in the existing hotel bar having a drink with some fellow investors after we closed the deal, and I noticed this geeky-looking young dweeb staring at me.  I get that a lot from gay guys, given my body and command of the room, so I wasn’t surprised or offended.  I like being admired, and so do my buddies, who are all also major studs.  We deserve it.  The twink looked kind of interesting.  He wasn’t a movie star or anything, but he wasn’t altogether bad looking and those geeky types frankly appeal to me as prospects for torture and sex.  I invited him to join our group, which he did.


“I noticed you were staring at me and my buddies.  Are you some sort of fag?”


“Sorry., sir.  I didn’t mean to offend you.  I am gay and yes, I think you guys are amazing looking, especially you.  I was fantasizing about you tying me up and fucking me.”


That started a conversation Loki especially enjoyed.  He interrogated Chris as to what he liked to do in terms of sex, and learned that the fag was very submissive and, at 28, a bit older than Loki.  But he was not very experienced other than at sucking cock.    Loki unzipped his fly and invited Chris to strip naked in front of everyone at the bar, kneel in front of Loki, and suck his dick.  A bit to Loki’s surprise, Chris did so immediately and quite expertly, fully accepting Loki’s giant cock in his mouth all the way to its base and after a great suck session eagerly swallowing Loki’s gushing load of cum.  It didn’t seem to bother Chris at all to have people staring at him while he degraded himself.  Indeed, Chris quickly achieved a full erection.  (Loki owned the bar, so he didn’t have to worry about rules.  After all, this would soon be the norm for conduct there.)  As Chris used his tongue to clean Loki’s dick and then thanked him for the honor of serving him, Loki asked what sort of limits Chris had. “I don’t think I have any, sir.  For someone like you, I’d let you do whatever you want with me.  I’d be happy to suck off your buddies, or if you prefer I could bend over a table and you could all butt-fuck me.”  Loki was now truly interested, getting a full view of the dweeb’s body.  It really wasn’t bad, and included a very appealing butt.  Chris might be his kind of frag.  He clearly had a promising attitude and sure knew how to suck cock.  Loki ordered Chris a whisky without asking what Chris wanted, and continued the conversation with his naked guest.  He learned that Chris was staying in room 558 in what was now Loki’s hotel, and that he was heading back to central Pennsylvania, near Pittsburg, after making some sales calls the next day.


“That’s probably bullshit about no limits, but I’ll give you a test and an offer.  I’m staying in my penthouse, and my buddies and I are going to head there and have an orgy.  We’ll want some slave fags to play with, and it will be very rough.  We’ve arranged for some, but you can join the fun as a slave if you prove yourself obedient enough.  So, stay naked and stay hard, put on this slave collar (Loki handed one to Chris),  and go back to your room.  Pack your shit and leave it in the room.  Walk out with nothing but the collar, not even your room key, and be sure to maintain an erection.  Then go to the elevator by walking completely around the floor so lots of people see you and ride to the penthouse.  If you get arrested or thrown out of the hotel for being naked, that’s your problem.  If someone asks what you’re doing, tell them you’re a worthless slave reporting for punishment and invite them to punish you.  There will be a blindfold on the table by the door to enter the penthouse.  Put that on and ring the doorbell.  You’ll be used by my friends, including some very important people.  I don’t want you able to blackmail them for the awful things I and hey will do to you.  You also won’t know what is about to happen to you as you get tortured and fucked.  I’ll decide what to do with you and your shit after I’m done with you.  Understood?”


Chris was shocked, and a little afraid, but he was mostly excited and turned on, so he quickly agreed.  He had lots of extreme fantasies and this fit perfectly with some of them.  He couldn’t hide his reaction anyway, as his cock was now intensely hard, pointing toward the ceiling from all the pressure of his arousal.  One of Loki’s buddies commented and they all laughed at Chris as he put on the slave collar.  That made him blush but turned him on even more.  He returned to his room and did exactly as instructed.  He encountered about two dozen guests during his naked stroll, and was yelled at and threatened by all of them.  He responded as instructed, and several of the guys decided to start the slave punishment early. Two punched him in the nuts, one spat on him, and another kicked him in the butt as he passed, sending Chris sprawling on the floor.  Chris thanked them, offered to let them hit him, kick him, or spit on him again, and continued on his way when they were finished.  (They all accepted a follow-on that involved punishing his exposed genitals.).  To his surprise, none of this made him lose the erection.  The humiliation and pain made it stronger.


After he put on the blindfold and rang the doorbell, Chris was dragged into the room and participated in an amazing orgy that lasted through the night.  He had no idea how many guys were in the room, but he was sure each of them raped him at least once.  He did know Loki had been the first, not only from comments being made but from the intense pain in his asshole as Loki brutally rammed him, laughing at the fact Chris was bleeding from his torn flesh as Loki enjoyed raping him.  He was bent over the back of a low chair with his wrists and ankles tied to the chair’s legs to make it more convenient for them to enter his butt-hole and to highlight his vulnerability.  That also made it easy to whip his butt and back, which were severely lacerated by early morning.  He could feel the whip laying on his back between beatings, inviting the next tormentor. He also had lots of cocks inserted in his mouth, some to clean off after he’d been fucked, some to relieve themselves with a load of piss (no point leaving the room to use a toilet when a human urinal was available right there), and many were after a blow job – Chris’s favorite thing to do and his best skill.  He loved sucking cock, especially in public.


Chris heard others screaming besides himself, so he knew he was not the only sex slave.  But he also heard Loki encouraging the guests to be especially brutal to Chris.  Chris felt honored.  Late in the evening, one guest, who sounded particularly drunk, asked Loki if it would be OK to drag Chris to the balcony and throw him off so he could watch him fall to his death on the street below.  Loki considered the idea, and acknowledged that would be fun.  But he pointed out the death would be very quick and scum like Chris deserved longer and more painful sessions.  Loki finally decided against the idea because it was too dark to get a clear view of the fall and the broken body on the street, and it might be bad press for the hotel. The conversation was another turn-on for Chris, which Loki noted.


After the rapes, Loki thrust a large, electrified dildo up Chris’ torn ass, which sent a stream of electricity through his body.  It was astonishingly painful, and Chris provided very satisfying screams to entertain Loki and his guests.  Loki had a remote control to vary the voltage, but soon grew tired of that and just left it on full power.  They laughed as they watched Chris’s body writhing in pain.


Eventually Chris was released from the chair and tied to a rack.  The guests took bets on which setting of the rack would result in Chris’s arms being pulled out of the shoulder sockets, and there was lots of cheering when that happened, after very slow increases to make sure Chris felt all the pain.  This also allowed easy access to whip his chest and torture his nipples and genitals.  The electrified dildo up his ass assured there were no breaks in the pain inflicted on the group’s newfound sex toy.  The constant writhing from the dildo and other sources of torture assured everyone had a chance to enjoy his suffering, but they also noticed and some were even impressed with his continued erection.  Loki thoughtfully helped keep in hard by inserting a metal rod down the piss-slit, although he also attached the rod to an electrical source that heated it up and burned the inside of Chris’s cock.  The screaming from that caused Chris to go hoarse.


The evening ended for Chris after he was released from the rack and ordered to masturbate for the guests.  That was nearly impossible with his dislocated arms pretty much useless, but he was eager to do so.  As he began his orgasm he felt a massive pain in his balls.  He had been hit hard by Loki, who used a pair of brass knuckles to enhance the effect.  Loki was exceptionally strong as well as exceptionally beautiful, and Chris’ orgasm turned to agony.  He vomited form the pain, which was followed by a succession of beatings that left him unconscious and covered in his own cum and vomit, along with his own piss that was released as he passed out.  The guests cheered Loki and most added their own piss and/or cum to further drench Chris’ body in waste.


When Chris awoke later that morning, he was still naked and realized he had been dumped in a trash bin on the street, as had been his luggage.  His arms were still mostly useless form the dislocation, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to climb out.  Worse yet, he realized he had been dumped on top of another naked young male, but this one was dead.  The corpse had been emasculated and was a mess of broken bones and ripped flesh, with a gaping wound in its belly.  Chris was now not only covered with the vomit, cum, and piss from his own torment, but with the blood of his trash-mate.  He further realized that someone had taken a shit on him.


Loki had made sure there was a videographer to record the fun of watching Chris deal with his situation, and a cop to arrest Chris for indecent exposure and sleeping on the streets.  Loki later arranged for the photos and video, clearly showing how messed up Chris’ body was, to be sent to Chris’s Facebook friends (there weren’t many) and to his boss.  Loki had had one of his assistants go through Chris’s stuff and get all his personal data.  These included Chris pissing and masturbating.  Chris desperately needed to empty his bladder, but being stuck in the dumpster he wound up mostly pissing on himself.   Chis also needed to release some of the sexual tension he still felt.  The sight and touch of the mutilated naked corpse had done nothing to turn that off.  He correctly concluded that the party had indeed wound up with a fag being dumped over the side of the penthouse balcony, and he found that sexually exciting, if messy.  A part of him wondered why he had not been selected.  It took him a long time to stroke himself to orgasm, given the dislocation, but his cock was super hard and he added fresh cum to the fresh piss, which spewed over his body and added to the dried waste with which he was covered.


The cop waited before arresting Chris to enjoy the show and allow for a longer and more embarrassing video.   The photos and video featured the welts on Chris’s body along with the fact he was covered in vomit, cum, shit, blood, and piss.  They also showed his rock-hard cock, which remained hard after he had the orgasm in the trash bin, reflecting his sexual arousal even after all that had happened – or maybe because of it.


As Loki had requested, the cop did not let Chris dress before taking him to the police station, although he did use a nearby garden hose to wash Chris off so the cop wouldn’t have to smell him.   Once Chris was out of the dumpster the local garbage service picked it up and hauled it away.  The corpse would never be found, nor its disappearance likely noticed. Who would possibly give a shit about a dead fag?  Chris remained naked through the brief hearing, after which he was put in jail.  There were a dozen or so other guys in the holding cell, who gang-raping him as the cop invited them to do.


Chris had a lot of explaining to do when he paid his fine after a night in jail (where he again got gang-raped this time also including the guards) and finally returned home.  Bad as all that that had happened was in so many ways, however, Chris knew he’d make the same choice all over again.  Indeed, his main regret was that he had no idea who Loki was or whether he’d ever see him again.


“I enjoyed torturing and fucking Chris, as did my friends.  He was the most submissive fag I’ve seen in a long while – even more pathetic than Matt here.”  Loki had just gotten another refill from his bar slave.  As Matt left the table Loki kicked him in the butt, causing Matt to stumble and drop the tray of empties he was holding.  Loki made it clear to Matt that he’d be severely punished later for being so clumsy.  Matt sincerely apologized and acknowledged he deserved severe punishment. That began immediately as one of the other patrons amused himself by whipping and kicking Matt as he cleaned up the mess.  But that would only be a start.


“I left the little shit alone for a month or so, so his cuts and shoulder would heal.  I don’t like using damaged goods.  But I kept track of him and was amused to see his life fall apart.  He lost his job, of course, and his friends all “unfriended” him.  He had about two months’ savings, and I arranged to ruin his credit rating to get his credit card cancelled and keep him from getting loans.  I waited until his money was gone.  I also made sure that any employer he applied to got a copy of the video.  He was totally broke and isolated.  I’d even managed to fuck up his ability to get unemployment payments, so he was down to nothing.  He had to sell his car, and sell the cool electronic gadgets he owned on eBay.  About all he had left was some clothes and his phone, and he was at the point where he had to vacate his apartment in a day or so.  I’d read his medical records and knew he tended to get depressed, which is what I wanted.  Then I texted him an invitation to contact me, telling him the next encounter would be a lot worse for him.  I was pretty sure he would respond right away, and the dumb-shit did.  That’s the encounter I just returned from.”


Loki turned philosophical.  “There are lots of submissive scum out there, like this parenthetic bar slave.  I enjoy torturing and fucking them, but the problem is they enjoy it too much.  I’ve provided a wonderful place for Matt at the bar.  He likes being beaten and humiliated in public, and he loves sucking cock and getting butt-fucked.  Piss and cum are his favorite drinks these days, and he gets to drink a lot of each.  Being displayed naked in public is another turn-on, and it’s in my best interest to let him work out a lot so he stays attractive and fit.  I let him eat left-overs from what he serves at the bar, although I piss and shit on it to be sure it’s disgusting.  He even accepts that as his due, eating and drinking from a dog dish.  When I decide to snuff him, he won’t resist at all, knowing it’s my right and he deserves as horrible a death as I can dream up.  I’m starting to plan that, by the way, since he’s not able to hold an erection as long as he could before we all started kicking his nuts.  They are now damaged and the vet says it would cost a lot to repair them.  He also is showing the scars from all the whipping.  And that’s also part of what I provide him.  He has no decisions to make.  He doesn’t have to worry about whether it’s worth it to repair his nuts; I do that for him.  And he doesn’t have to worry about his career, or what to wear (the group laughed as Matt’s naked body came into sight), what to eat, where to sleep, when to piss or shit, or how to make or keep friends – he isn’t permitted any so it’s simple.  And all I ask in return is total obedience and the right to do whatever I want with him while he’s alive, and to snuff him whenever and however it amuses me to do so.  Oh, and I get to fuck his dead body and use it for food or fertilizer, or both.  For a worthless piece of shit like Matt, it’s a great deal.  In fact, sometimes I think I’m too generous to these slaves, but that’s just how I am.


“But Matt has a flaw.  He’ll shoot a great final orgasm as he dies, which we’ll all enjoy watching.  But he doesn’t YEARN to be killed.  He has a place and purpose in the world.  It’ll be fun to torture him to death, of course, but it’s more fun when a scum-bag begs for it.  That’s what I saw as a potential with Chris.  He deserved to die a horrible death, he knew it, and he desperately wanted it.  I just pushed him along a little faster to those realizations by destroying everything in his life that might matter to him.  I was doing him a favor.  Like I said, sometimes I’m just too generous.


“That’s why I didn’t let my buddies throw him over the edge at my party.  Chris not only had the right potential attitude, but he’d showed some courage in pursuing it.  It’s a rare twink who will strip naked in a public bar, let alone accept the challenge of my invitation.  I liked the look of his body, and he intrigued me.  So, I vetoed throwing him off the edge.  That would have been a waste.  My buddies weren’t too happy about my decision, as we all had a whole lot of blood lust as we kept partying.  By early morning, as it started to get light, I realized the party wouldn’t be a success unless my guests and I got to snuff one of the fags.  So, we played a variation of “Non-Survivor” where the slave fags vote to decide which of them literally gets thrown off the island – that is, the balcony.  They get into it big time, and it’s fun to watch them maneuver to not be selected.  They’re all prostitutes who know each other well, and old grudges surface fast.  And since the alternative is that we’ll throw them all off the balcony, they enthusiastically play along.  It was fairly soon when one of the fats was selected, despite all his begging for mercy.  So, we beat the shit out of the “winner” and then I cut off his cock and balls.  He was still alive, but not by much.  The point was that he was alive and aware enough to scream wonderfully as we carried him to the edge of the balcony and tossed him into thin air. It was light enough to give us a pleasant view of him flaying wildly as he fell 15 stories.  The most fun, though, was the fact he hit the top of the flag pole in front of the hotel, which impaled him right in the belly.  When we remodel I’m going to add some sharp spikes at various points so we can play target practice.  The goal will be to impale the fag in the butt or nuts.  That will be a lot of fun.


“Chris responded to my text as I expected, saying he wanted to see me again, no matter what was planned.  He said he was at the end of his rope and he really didn’t care what I did to him.  I found that pretty amusing my plans – and promising.”


Loki had texted back, telling Chris about a secluded camp ground 7 miles out of town that Loki owned and enjoyed.  “I am sending an Uber to pick you up.  Once again, you must be naked.  It adds to your humiliation.  The Uber will arrive in 14 minutes.  Be out front.”


Chris was thrilled and did as instructed, not even bothering to bring the keys to his apartment.  It wasn’t his anymore, and he sensed he would not be returning.  The Uber driver made fun of him being naked, especially since Chris had developed an erection thinking about Loki and what might be in store for Chris.  Being ridiculed didn’t bother Chris.  He was excited sexually and emotionally.


When Chris was dropped off at the designated spot he saw Loki standing at the trail head next to his Lamborghini.  Loki was naked except for his signature steel-toed leather boots, and Chris literally gasped at the sight of him.  Chris was aware Loki had been named to a god, but now realized that Loki was indeed a god.  No mere mortal could have a body that spectacular, or that dominant.  Every aspect of Loki’s blond frame was perfect, from his chiseled Aryan face to his broad, sculpted shoulders, massive chest, exceptional abs, and powerful legs.  But it was Loki’s manhood that generated the gasp.  Chris had realized its size when he sucked Loki off, and felt it when he was raped.  But now he saw it in its full splendor.   He had assumed stories of 12 in cocks were just bragging fiction, but this was a weapon at least that long, and equivalently think.  No wonder Chris’s ass had hurt so much after the orgy and was still bleeding the next day.  Loki’s balls were similarly huge, with a scrotum that hung halfway to his knees.  As Chris recovered from encountering this male deity, he did what seemed natural to him. He knelt in front of Loki and begged him to take and use Chris however Loki wished.


Loki said nothing.  He pointed to the hood of his car, and Chris instantly understood what he was to do.  He quickly went and bent over the hood so that his ass would be conveniently available.  The hood was very hot from the recent journey and burned Chris’s chest, but that obviously didn’t matter.  When Loki rammed his hard dick into Chris, Chris was in ecstasy with both pain and pleasure.  He had no doubt his innards were again ripped open, but that was what he wanted.  Anything to please Loki, and the more pain Chris endured the better.  Loki was in no hurry, and the fucking lasted for over 30 minutes before Loki shot a massive load into Chris.  After emptying his load, Loki inserted the electrified dildo into Chris that he’d used during the orgy.  This time Chris did not scream, recognizing that he deserved to be in constant, extreme pain.  Chris was then permitted to again kneel in front of Loki, who used his boot to kick Chris hard in nuts.  Chris was then permitted to use his tongue to clean the dick and his mouth to accept a load of piss.  Chris was struggling not to shoot his own load, but knew he was not permitted even to ask permission to do that.  Loki was in control of all aspects of Chris’s body.  Chris had become the totally dominated animal he always knew he should be.


Loki spoke for the first time, pointing to a large backpack on the ground next to the car.  “You are to carry that and follow me.  It cantinas the implements I will use to restrain and torture you, plus what I wish to have for my comfort for the night.”


The two men hiked silently for about six miles to a beautiful campsite next to a pristine river.  There was a supply pf wood next to the campsite, among other implements, and Loki pointed to it as where Chris was to put the backpack.  It was late afternoon and Loki took a flint form the backpack and used it to start a fire.  He also instructed Chris to bathe in the river to clean off his sweat and properly prepare is body for Loki’s use.  The water was ice cold, but even that did not dampen Chris’s erection.  After Chris was done, he next fetched water in a pail that Loki then placed over the fire.  In due course, Loki bathed himself with fresh, warm river water.  Both men were refreshed form their hike.


Loki next reached into the backpack and pulled out a series of implements, including a rope with a noose tied at one end.  “Put this around your neck and toss the loose end over the branch on that tree.”  Chris did as instruct, and Loki then grabbed the loose end of the rope and pulled on it slowly until Chris’s feet were slightly off the ground.  The noose did not tighten so it did not completely cut off Chris’s breathing, although in time the pressure on his neck would strangle him.  Chris realized this, but also knew it was OK so long as that is what Loki wanted to have happen.  He only hoped Loki would get more use out of him than just a simple hanging.


Loki was not ready for Chris to die yet.  “I do not plan for you to die tonight, although I may change my mind.  But I do plan for you to suffer.”  With that Loki picked up a whip and sued his great strength to brutally began lash his victim, starting with the chest and abs so he could enjoy the look of pain on Chris’s face, but proceeding to the back and butt to be sure every part of Chris was in pain.  As the body swayed back and forth under the whip strokes, it had the desired effect of making it even harder for Chris to breath.  Loki was expert at torture, and made sure Chris did not suffocate.  He also monitored the lashing so that he did not break the skin.  He had other uses for this body.


Loki noted with satisfaction that Chris remained erect.  Part of that was, of course, the effect of being hanged, but mostly it was Chris’s sexual needs being met. Loki approved, since having the cock stick out like that made it more fun to whip.


“What do you have to say for yourself, slave?”


“Thank you for using me, Master.”


“What do you want me to do with you?”


“Whatever you want, Master.  I have no will of my own any more.  I am your property to use and dispose of as you wish.”


“And does that include killing you?”


“Yes, Master.  Being killed by you would be an honor.  It is more than I deserve.”


“That is correct.  I will consider your fate.  But tonight, you must prepare yourself.  As you know, I am Loki, and Loki is a god.  You are but a piece of meat.  But you may achieve the wisdom to fully embrace your fate as the great God Odin once did.  To achieve wisdom, he allowed himself to be tied naked to a tree and endured the elements.   That is your task between now and tomorrow morning, and you are to consider how great the honor would be if I take your life to enhance slightly one of my orgasms during my annual contemplative retreat.  I return to this place each year to reconnect with my heritage and with Odin, and I sacrifice male meat as Odin requires.  You are to beg for that honor, realizing how utterly worthless your life is.  And you are to suggest ways in which I might make use of your body before and after you die.”


“But first, you must be labeled for what you are – my property.”  Loki proceeded to the fire, where he had placed a branding iron.  It was now red hot, and he retrieved it and approached the beaten body hanging by its neck.  The lettering was small and the message was simple: “Property of Loki.”  He branded Chris in two places, enjoying the aromatic smell of burning flesh and the inhuman screams of his victim. One was on his right pec just above the nipple, and the other was on his back just below the neck.  Despite the extreme pain, Chris was thrilled and grateful.  “Thank you, Master.  It is generous of you to accept my body as your property.  I know this includes your right to end my life as you wish.”


Loki continued to torture Chris for several more hours, enjoying not only whipping him but also using his brass knuckles to once again attack Chris’s balls, which swelled considerably from the blows.    “I want you to remain in pain throughout the night.  Some of that can be achieved through the dildo, which I will leave inside you at full power.  But I want your whole body to suffer.”  With that statement, Loki lowered Chris to the ground and released the noose.  He had observed the youth was starting to lose his ability to breath, and didn’t want Chris to die so easily.  The twink collapsed, choking.


“I have worked up a sweat punishing you.  And so, have you.  Once again cleanse yourself in the river, and fetch me some water so I can heat it up and cleanse myself.  Then you may have the honor of sucking my cock and drinking my piss.”  Chris, of course, did exactly as instructed, and greatly enjoyed sucking the massive cock.  He choked on it a few times, of course, and Loki kicked him in the balls for doing so, but he was overall very successful, and the hot cum streaming down his throat was totally satisfying, as was the piss that soon followed it.


“Stand by that tree with your back to it.  Then spread out your arms and legs.”  Loki approached Chris with long strands of rope.    He tied both the hands and the feet so that the rope reached around the tree and firmly held each in place.  Chris was now spread-eagled, firmly fastened to the tree.  Loki next attached a rope around Chris’s neck, which was also strung around the tree to further secure his body.  Loki was quite pleased with the arousing site of this young willing victim standing naked, fastened to a tree, branded for what he was, with his cock massively erect.  Loki at times believed himself to actually be one of the Norse gods, and felt this is what his father Odin would want by way of sacrifice.


But there was not yet enough pain.  Loki approached Chris and reminded him that he was to spend the night in extreme pain throughout his body.   Chris understood and once again thanked Loki for assuring he suffered adequately.  As he finished, Loki again used his great strength, this time to bend Chris’s right arm so that he completely broke the elbow. Chris screamed, but again expressed his thanks.   He did so again three times, as his left elbow and both knees were also rendered forever useless.  The body was now in total pain as Loki had planned.


“It is now time for my dinner, and for you to begin your night of pain and contemplation.  You will contribute here as well.  While I have brought other meat to cook, I wish to start with something entirely fresh.  You have no further need to produce sperm, so I am removing your testicles.  You will watch me eat them.  If I decide to let you have a final orgasm, the sperm you already have in your body will suffice.”


Loki cut very slowly into Chris’s scrotum to prolong the pain.  He removed each testicle slowly and had Chris lick it clean.  Then he consumed it in front of its prior owner.  Loki finished by cauterizing the wound so Chris would not bleed to death overnight.  But that was only to keep his victim alive for further tortures.


Chris was mostly overcome by pain at first, but as the evening turned into night he recovered enough to contemplate what was happening.  He was now castrated and his limbs were broken.  He had anticipated meeting with Loki would be fatal, but had no idea there would be this much pain.  But he also had no idea it would be this thrilling.  He was fulfilling Loki’s need to dominate, and that was far more important than Chris’s life and a wonderful use for Chris’s body.  He genuinely looked forward to completing his contribution the next morning by dying some sort of horrible death, hoping it would meet Loki’s expectations.  As he watched Loki finish his meal and settle down for a good night’s sleep on a comfortable air mattress under the stars, the sense of gratitude was far greater than the sense of pain.


. . . . .


Chris was unable to sleep that night due to the combination of pain and excitement, so he had the thrill of watching Loki wake up as the sun rose.  The human deity stretched his beautiful body and stroked his enormous cock.   He rose, pleased to see his human sacrifice still alive but clearly without any rest.  That was how he wanted it.


Loki left Chris tied to the tree while he enjoyed a hearty breakfast he retrieved from the backpack and from several coolers that had been placed near the fire pit before the two men had arrived.  Only then did he turn his attention to the broken animal he was enjoying so much.  So far, this piece of meat had greatly exceeded his expectation, and he felt confident it would also do so as it died.


“So, meat, what have you to propose for the use of your worthless body?  And are you still anxious to forfeit your pathetic life for my fleeting pleasure?”


“I am, Master.  I am just hopeful you will inflict a death that fully pleases you through its length and cruelty.  As for my body, I suggest you consider me as food.  And there is no reason you should not enjoy fucking me after I’m’ dead and before my flesh cools.  Perhaps, by way of an ongoing use, you might find use for my skin as a source of leather for you attire.  But perhaps that is too forward on my part.  I know I do not deserve that level of honor.”


Loki was completely pleased.  This was exactly what he wanted to hear, and it was also how he had planned to use the twink.


“you finally got something right, slave.  You will have the great honor of me torturing you to death this morning, And I will use your body as you suggest, since that is what I planned.  Indeed, from the time you stepped naked in the bar to get to suck me off, I concluded that your skin would convert nicely to leather.  You will be preserved as my new leather jacket, something vastly more important than your life.  The branding I did yesterday was strategically placed and will survive the leathermaking process, and everyone will know the jacket is mine.”


Loki untied Chris from the tree and led, or mostly carried, the body over to the branch where it had been hanged the afternoon before.  He attached a different noose around Chris’s neck, but this time didn’t raise Chris above the ground.  The noose just held him upright, as this was one designed to tighten under the weight of a body, which meant it and that would fatally choke Chris when Chris was lifted by the rope.  Loki needed the youth to breath, at last for a while.  He didn’t bother to tie Chris’s wrists behind his back as is traditional for a hanging.  He knew there would be no resistance.  And even if Chris tried, his arms were no longer functional.


Loki began by gutting Chris just above the cock, inserting the knife deeply and slowly cutting upward.  This was a favorite method of torture for Loki as he knew how amazingly painful it was for the victim.  Chris was no exception and Loki especially enjoyed the screams as they took on more of the sound of a n animal than a person.  After all, that’s what Chris always was.


“I like to start by opening up the guts and removing some of the innards that aren’t very eatable,” Loki explained as he slowly cut upward toward the base of the rib cage.  He made a sideways cut at the top and then peeled back the skin to reveal the organs inside.  Loki cut out and removed various organs, showing them to Chris as he pulled them out.  But he was careful to tie off the arteries and veins to keep the bleeding to a minimum.  Loki was quite expert at this, having majored in human anatomy in college so he could be a more effective torturer.  He put the organs in one of two coolers. Things that could be prepared for a delicious meal, like the liver, were in one cooler.  Other parts that weren’t suitable went into the other cooler.  “I personally like liver, and I’m confident yours will be delicious,” he explained.  “But I don’t want to be wasteful, and I’ll feed parts like your intestines and stomach to the slaves who work in my bar.  It will be fun to watch, and it’s probably even nutritious.”


Loki next turned to skinning Chris alive, which was a skill and task Loki also enjoyed and was very good at doing.  His knife continued to Chris’s chest, but this time not at all keep.  Loki peeled off the young skin he’d admired so much, and in a brief time Chris’s chest and belly were skinless.  His back, legs, and arms soon followed, with Loki carefully assuring the skin came off in large sections to make it easier to prepare the leather.  It was a tribute to Loki’s remarkable skill that Chris remained alive, albeit missing a lot of his insides and all the skin on his body.


But now it was time for Chris to die.  Loki pulled on the rope so that Chris was now off the ground, with the noose tightening as he continued to writhe in utter agony.  But there was no sudden fall of the body to break the neck as in a traditional execution.  Loki wanted Chris to die as slowly as possible, and this would happen due to being suffocated as the noose tightened around his neck.  While the vivisection and the skinning were enough to prove fatal, Loki enjoyed the look of terror on the face of a victim who was slowly deprived of oxygen.


“you’ll be dead pretty soon, and I’ll enjoy watching you suffer until then.  When you die, by the way, you will have an orgasm.  I didn’t let you cum earlier while you were alive not only because I don’t want you to feel pleasure, but because you wouldn’t have had any sperm stored up after I ate your balls.  No one knows if there’s any sexual satisfaction form an orgasm that is triggered by death, as it’s mostly a bodily function of blood flow to the cock.  I hope there isn’t any, as you don’t deserve it, but I am confident the agony and terror of death will be the greater reaction.  I do know it’s a whole lot of fun to watch a young male body cum and go at the same time.


The blood loss form being gutted, skinned, and robbed of internal organs meant Chris did not last much longer.  But there was some entertainment as his survival instinct kicked in and his useless arms tried to reach the noose.  Loki hadn’t expected that and laughed out loud.  It was really amusing.  Chris also didn’t disappoint on the orgasm front.  His cock had remained hard, as usually happens with guys getting hanged, and as his body began the final death spasms the cock erupted, squirting out a massive and powerful load of cum.


Loki was quite pleased.  He was also thoroughly aroused, and quickly cut down the body for its sexual use.  He entered the asshole for the last time, enjoying the warmth and the pressure generated as the fag completed its final death convulsions.  Fucking guys as they died was Loki’s favorite sex act.  The intensity of his orgasm more than justified the trivial sacrifice of Chris’s young life.


. . .  .


Loki finished his story to the appreciation of his audience just as dinner was served.  As the group began their meal there were lots of questions.


“So how did the jacket turn out?”  Loki reached down and showed off his new attire.  It was expertly done, and he pointed out how well the branding had worked out.  Chris was now clearly “property of Loki.”  And Loki also pointed out a feature he’d added.  “I thoroughly enjoyed watching the meat burst into its final orgasm, so I kept the cock, and used it as the pull for the zipper.”  Everyone admired the preserved cock hanging down from the zipper, the only part of Chris that would generate a memory.


“And what about the meat?  Did the slaves enjoy the intestines?  And did the choice parts cook up well?”


“We’re going to feature a ‘feast’ of the slaves eating the loser’s innards right after dinner as a start to tonight’s sex and torture fun.  We can add some piss and shit to enhance the flavor.  As for the prime cuts, please let me know.  Personally, I think the meat did indeed turnout to be delicious.”  And with that, Loki cut himself a second large piece of twink breast meat.