Joey’s Time at the Bar by Gay Slavemeat gsmeat2@gmail.com

For a white guy, Joey had a really large cock. When fully aroused, it stood a full 13 inches, and was nearly 2 inches thick. And given how horny Joey was all the time, the cock was nearly always hard. He usually wore a cock ring to help keep it that way, which was one of only two things he ever wore any more. The other was a slave collar. His bubble butt was therefore always available for use. The gang liked it that way. You see, Joey was a slave for a black gang that hung out at a gay S&M bar in the very worst part of town – at least for a young white twink like Joey.

Part of what made the cock so impressive was the fact it wasn’t really Joey’s. Joey was white; the cock was black. It had once belonged to the founder of the black gang, who had been killed in a war with another gang. His followers had preserved the cock, given its remarkable size, and had been trying to figure out what to do with it.

That’s when Joey wandered into the bar. He had been lost, and was trying to figure out how to get back to the white part of town. He hadn’t been all that intimidated when he first walked in, since Joey was a male prostitute who earned his living by servicing other guys. He did his best “work” when he played slave to another guy’s role as master, so a gay bar with obvious S&M action was actually pretty interesting to him. When he saw the pictures on the walls of nude guys in chains, and some of the kinds of “special” equipment he was used to from the sessions he so often got paid to perform, it turned him on.

So Joey had gone up to the bartender, ordered a beer, and asked if anyone had directions. When Joey looked over the bar, he realized the bartender was naked, with a hard cock and a dildo stuck up his ass. Joey had already noticed his bare chest and the tit clips the guy wore, but now he was really turned on by the bartender’s remarkable body. Clearly, he was there to serve the customers fully.

Joey never got his beer, or any directions. A large black dude came from behind the bar and simply issued a single, one-word order:

“Strip.”

It was a warm day outside, and Hoey was already shirtless, wearing only shorts and old running shoes. He was proud of his body, which he kept in terrific shape, and showed off whenever possible. And having gotten interested in the bartender, he was also now erect – a fact that was pretty obvious given his tight shorts. He liked the fact being nearly naked except for wearing shorts tight enough to highlight a hard-on meant that people stared at him on the bus and while he walked around town. Although he was a twink by build, he had lots of muscle tone and a very well defined six-pack set of abs. His arms and legs were also pretty muscular for his size, and he had a terrifically sexy bubble butt. The tight shorts he had on helped make that obvious too.

Joey looked around. The other guys in the bar were clearly interested in what was happening. Several moved behind him, cutting off any exit. The large black guy who had issued the order, and who appeared to be the leader, spoke again:

“I ordered you to strip, whitey. So strip. I want to see what your puny white ass looks like. If you’re lucky, my buddies and I might settle for just fucking it. But maybe we’ll want more.”

Joey wasn’t all that afraid yet. He had been the object of lots of gang bangs, and he enjoyed them. So he did what he was told, slowly pulling down the shorts and kicking off the shoes. What the brothers in the bar saw was a wonderfully fit young white twink – with a serious hard-on. The sight of the guy behind the bar and the thought of exposing himself in public to possible gang rapists had turned Joey on big time.

At first the leader just looked Joey over, much as he would a new dog or a piece of furniture. Then he turned to the others.

“Whitey here has a pretty good body, but it’s obvious he’s not a brother – look at the puny size of his little pink dick.”

Everyone laughed, and Joey was a little taken aback. He thought his dick was just fine. It was about 9 inches, not very thick, extremely smooth, and it pointed straight into the air due to how hard his erection was.

“I wonder if his butt-hole is also tiny,” another member of the gang said, also laughing. “If so, we could expand it.”

“Let’s find out. Climb up on this table and bend over on all fours like a dog, cocksucker.”

Joey once again did what he was told. The table was fairly low, so when he bent over he was aware that it positioned his butt and his mouth at about waist high for most of the group.

“Good. Maybe you’re trainable and even useful. Here are the rules: You stay on all fours, and you service every cock that’s offered to you. You’ve got two useful holes, and we’ll fill both with whatever we feel like – whether it’s cum or piss. I don’t want any dripping from your mouth. We’ll make sure your ass gets filled up too. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Joey replied. This was now really turning him on. He liked being fucked, he liked sucking cock, and he particularly enjoyed being used as a urinal. As he looked around, he counted about 15 black hunks shedding their clothes in preparation for their fun.

The gang rape went on for well over two hours. Each member of the gang used Joey’s mouth to get hard, and then moved to his butt. He obediently sucked everything put in front of him, and he didn’t object when the hard cocks were rammed up his tender asshole. They pumped and slammed into his body, most in a frenzy of sexual excitement. Several of the gang members presented their cocks to Joey for sucking at the same time, and he would take two at a time in his mouth while another pumped his willing ass. It was a great gang bang, and Joey was performing nicely.

After the gang members shot a load up Joey’s butt, they inserted their cocks into his mouth again for cleaning. Then they would let loose a load of hot beer-smelling piss that Joey eagerly took down his throat. As instructed, he didn’t spill a drop. And his cock stayed erect for the entire time, throbbing on the edge of orgasm but not exploding since Joey didn’t have permission to cum. He had figured out that he better not let himself have that pleasure unless the gang said it was OK.

Finally, the gang was done. They had all joined in, and now they ordered more pitchers of beer to continue the party. Joey was left on the table, a dog to be used later, perhaps, but no longer the center of attention. Then one of the gang came up with another idea.

“Let’s whip him.”

That idea was well received, and in no time at all Joey was tied to a frame, hands and feet spread-eagled, so that he could be whipped front and back at the same time. They hadn’t been required to force him. He submitted willingly. And they laughed again at the act he was still sexually aroused.

“Should we let him cum?”

“No, he hasn’t really earned it yet. Let’s see how he responds to being whipped like the dog he is.”

The whipping lasted over a period of two more hours. It wasn’t constant, and the gang was getting more and more drunk. So guys would just take a few drinks and then grab a whip (there were several on the bar, so Joey figured this was a fairly common activity) and lash Joey for a while. He writhed in pain, but he didn’t object. A couple of strokes had broken the skin, so he was bleeding in a few places. But that was still quite alright given Joey’s extreme masochistic nature. The periodic punches to his gut and his balls even had the effect of elping him stay excited and erect.

After the gang got tired of whipping Joey, he was released and told to kneel on the floor. The gang had consumed a lot of beer by that time, so it was time to unload. Joey’s throat was the desired target. Once again, he showed his true talents and eagerly drank the used beer.

A particularly horny gang member ordered Joey back on the table and began to fuck him again. “I hate to admit it, but this puke is kind of talented at being a fuck-hole and at drinking piss. I think we should keep him.”

Joey still wasn’t really terrified. It was more like curiosity. He didn’t really have a life other than selling his body for sex, so he wondered what they meant by “keeping” him. He soon found out.

“That’s a great idea,” another gang member chimed in. “We all have fun fucking our bartender here, but this kid’s a fresh ass and a convenient piss-hole. We wouldn’t have to walk all the way to the bathroom with our own portable white urinal. I’d like to use him for a while – at least until we use him up.”

“Don’t worry,” he said to the bartender. “You’ll still get fucked a lot, and now you’ll have an assistant and someone you can fuck too.”

The gang, by now extremely drunk, all laughed at Joey and quickly agreed. Their leader settled the matter.

“OK. We’ve got ourselves a nice little white boy as our new slave. It’s about time white guys were slaves of black dudes, right?

“We’ll keep him here in the bar, and we’ll use him whenever we like. No limits. But nobody gets to do permanent damage without my permission. Is that understood?”

Everyone agreed. Joey was now getting a bit more nervous. The reference to “permanent damage” wasn’t very comforting, since it was clear that the only limitation was getting the gang leader’s permission. Yet somehow even that turned him on.

The gang leader turned to Joey.

“Do you understand your new role, whitey? You’re our slave. You do whatever we tell you. You never leave this bar, unless we sell you to someone else or otherwise dispose of you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Joey consented. His dick was now throbbing with excitement.

“Great. I live upstairs in the bar, so you’ll mostly serve me when the bar isn’t open. I’ll even keep you in good shape physically, so you don’t lose your value, since I’ve got a great gym built into the back room. You’ll like it. It’s also a fully equipped dungeon. The gang and I like to play back there, and now we’ll have a new toy – you.”

Joey couldn’t help himself. As he looked at the massive black dude who was now going to be his owner, he focused on how fantastic the guy’s body was and how huge his cock was. Joey had enjoyed being fucked by this guy more than any of the others, and now he was going to be the guy’s personal plaything. It was the ultimate turn-on.

Joey’s new master was now exploring his body, taking stock of the new object he’d acquired. He ran his hand over Joey’s hard pecks, and explored Joey’s butt. Then he squeezed Joey’s balls hard, and touched Joey’s erection.

Joey’s cock exploded. He released a massive load of cum that sprayed all over the room, hitting his new owner on the leg and causing his own body to gyrate with orgasmic pleasure. It was the best orgasm he’d ever had.

“I think our new toy likes the idea.” The room broke into gales of laughter.
Joey was embarrassed at having shot his load without permission, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had simply been too turned on to resist.

“But he made a mess on you,” a gang member pointed out to the leader. “Are you going to put up with that sort of thing?”

“No way,” the leader responded. He motioned for Joey to lick up the cum he’d shot, and Joey quickly obeyed, starting with his master’s leg and then cleaning the floor with his tongue. He knew his role and understood that the humiliation and debasement of it was part of the pleasure for his owners. Ironically, it was part of the pleasure for him, too.

“He’ll need to learn real discipline. And I have the perfect idea how to teach him and how to solve one of our little disputes,” the gang leader told his troops as Joey performed the added function of a human floor mop.

“Bar-slave,” the leader called out. “Have Doc Johnson come over here right away, and tell him to bring his microsurgery tools. I’ve got a job for him.”

Joey was finally scared. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he knew it involved him. And he was still worried about the “permanent damage” comment. His terror was well founded.

“OK slave. Lie down on the table there, on your back. And get your puny little cock hard again. You’re going to be taught a really important lesson. And you’re going to get a great honor.”

“Dudes,” he said, addressing the rest of the gang. “I’ve figured out what to do with our founder’s pride and joy. I know the perfect place to store it.”

Several of the gang caught on right away and as Joey lay down on the table they grabbed his arms and legs and tied him down. He was helpless and exposed. One of the gang massaged Joey’s cock to that it became hard again. Joey still had no idea what was going to happen.

“But he’s already got a cock, small as it is,” complained one of the gang members who had figured out the leader’s plan.

“Not for long.’

With that reply, the leader picked up a knife that was lying on the bar. He made a point of showing it to Joey, and made a small cut in Joey’s belly to make sure Joey knew he was serious. Joey was now beyond terrified, having finally figured out what might be happening to him.

“Please, sir. I promise I won’t cum without your permission ever again.”

“Well, you won’t be coming at all for a little while,” laughed the leader as he moved the knife closer to Joey’s doomed manhood. But this lesson will help you remember when you’re once again a male. I’ll do this as slowly as I can just to make sure you remember.”

The knife touched the base of Joey’s cock. The leader was true to his word, and the knife moved extremely slowly. But move it did, and it sliced into the soft, beautiful flesh Joey had enjoyed so much. Joey screamed, but it was to no avail. The knife kept cutting, deeper and deeper. The pain was extraordinary, and Joey felt he might faint. But somehow he didn’t. He knew his owner would want him to suffer the full pain and humiliation of the event. He understood that his cock was no longer his property; it belonged
to his new owner – as did all of Joey. So if the owner wanted to cut it off, that was his choice. Joey had quickly adjusted to his new role. And although his master didn’t say anything, the gang leader was actually both impressed and pleased. He liked his new toy.

The gang leader was very good at cutting, and he managed to make the event last a long time. But finally the last bit of flesh was severed, and the now useless muscle was in his hand. Another gang member was at the ready to cauterize the gaping wound so Joey would remain alive for their fun, and he cauterized it with a propane blowtorch. It kept Joey from bleeding to death, but it also added to his pain and to the gang’s fun.

Several of the gang had shot a load of cum while watching the entertainment. The leader (who was one of the ones who had shot his load) ordered Joey’s release from the table.

“A doctor friend of mine will be here in a few minutes, and he will attach our founder’s cock to your worthless body. It’s a lot better than the tiny little thing I just cut off, so you’re a lucky slave.

“However, you have to earn the new cock. I want you to service everyone in the bar again. And I want to hear you thank me for teaching you a lesson.”

Joey was beyond pain, beyond humiliation. He had been reduced to an animal, maybe even just a piece of furniture. He stared at the spot where his cock had once been, and looked at the piece of flesh the leader still held. Yet, again, he understood and he did what he was told. If his owner wanted him to have a different cock, who was Joey to object? If his master wanted Joey to earn that cock by debasing himself once again, then it was Joey’s duty to do so.

“Thank you, sir, for teaching me the lesson. May I express my appreciation by sucking your cock, or would you prefer to use my butt-hole for your pleasure?”

The leader laughed, and the rest of the gang cheered. The leader had gotten yet another hard-on, and he thrust it into Joey’s mouth by way of an answer. Another gang member thrust his into Joey’s asshole. They both pumped, and after a while they both came. After that Joey once again drank his owner’s piss, and then the rest of the gang had their turn. Fucking Joey after watching him lose his penis was a huge turn-on, and everyone enjoyed themselves. Even the bar-slave got to join in between serving more beer.

The doctor had showed up in due course, and he was quite expert at sewing the huge black penis onto Joey. Of course, it was done without any pain killer, and everyone enjoyed that show as well. It took Joey a week or two before he was able to get hard again, but when he did he realized that the black penis was in fact better than his old one. And the novelty of a white guy with a huge black dick was a major hit. Business in the bar was never better, and everyone enjoyed fucking the leader’s new mostly-white property.

As time went on, the gang leader worked out sort of a schedule. Joey would serve as the waiter during the noon hour, taking orders and delivering food and drinks. One of the items on the menu was “fuck whitey.” When customers ordered that item, Joey would simply position his willing, naked body for their pleasure.
Also, the leader had removed the urinals from the bathroom. If someone had to piss, they simply called Joey over and he knelt in front of them while they filled his throat. He never spilled a drop.

In the evening, the routine was a little different. There were more patrons, and they were more interested in sex than food. So the master had Joey build a sort of sawhorse that Joey could be draped over, his hands and feet tied to the base of it, his butt and mouth positioned to receive whatever customers wanted to stick into him. This lasted throughout happy hour, and the customers were very happy. So was Joey. The fact he was tied to the sawhorse was really not necessary, but it enhanced the status as a slave and made it more fun for the customers. Most of them preferred a rape than simply fucking a willing victim.

If was in the late evening that Joey got his greatest use, however.
Sometimes he’d be spread-eagled in the frame where he was first whipped. That was the most common use of him. The blows took their toll on his skin, and he was starting to show some scars from the cuts that the whips often produced. But his owner was making a lot of money off him, and it really wasn’t Joey’s decision whether he would be preserved as a beautiful twink or slowly used up as scars and bruises appeared as a result of the beatings.

Some of the guys wanted Joey to fuck them with his huge dick. So Joey got lots of orgasms. This too made money for his master.

It had now been exactly a year since Joey had wandered into the bar. The gang leader told Joey he had something special planned for a celebration, but Joey knew better than to ask what it was.

When the evening started, Joey could see that the bar was even more packed than usual. He also could see something he hadn’t seen ever before. There was another white guy in the bar. This was a truly good looking young male, even better looking than Joey had been before all the beatings and whipping. Joey guessed the guy was about Joey’s age – twenty – and there was no question about the guy’s beauty. The white novelty was stark naked, and everyone was looking at the new kid, not at Joey. Joey was a little put off, but as always he recognized that he was simply an object owned by the gang leader. His opinions or needs were irrelevant.

The gang leader called for attention, and everyone stopped to listen.

“Welcome. I am glad to see everyone was able to join me. We’re going to have a lot of fun.

“As you all know, this is the one year anniversary of me getting a new piece of furniture for the bar.” He pointed at Joey, who blushed. Everyone else laughed.

“He’s been a lot of fun, and frankly pretty profitable, but now he’s clearly wearing out. As you can see, he’s got a bunch of scars and bruises. I guess we’ve all had a little too much fun whipping him and beating him. But that’s
OK – it’s all about us having fun and he doesn’t matter at all.

“I’ve also noticed that his asshole isn’t as tight as it used to be. Maybe that’s because of the baseball bat we stick up him from time to time, or maybe the fisting. Personally, I think it’s from taking my dick every night.”

The audience laughed and cheered. Most of them had also taken the leader’s dick in their ass at times, so they also knew there was a little truth in what he was saying.

Joey, meanwhile, found himself getting turned on. He was being described like a piece of meat, and that fit with his self esteem. He listened with attention, not sure what was going to happen.

“So, I have become concerned if we are getting a high enough quality of service. Frankly, I think it’s time we replaced our little piece of white meat with something fresh. So tonight we’ll introduce our new toy. I’ve trained him personally, and he understands his purpose. If anything, he’s more masochistic than the old animal we’re replacing, and as you can see he’s much better looking. That probably won’t be true in a year, of course, but we’ll deal with that then.

“That leaves us with a decision. What should we do with our old animal? I’ve given that a lot of thought. On the one hand it might be fun to have two of them, but the old one is pretty used up. Given all the blows to the nuts, I suspect he’ll even start to have problems keeping that wonderful cock he’s borrowed fully erect. So I’ve made some decisions.

“Tonight is Joey’s last night. I thought about selling him, but I don’t need the money. And it will be more fun to dispose of him right here in the bar. Tonight. We’ll start with a major gang bang of both our slaves, but I want everyone, including them, to know how the evening will progress after our initial fun.

“Here’s the plan. After our initial gang bang, we’ll remove the cocks from each of our little toys. I’ll do that as slowly as possible. Then we’ll fuck them all over again.

“Next, we’ll attach the nice big black cock of our gang founder to the new slave. He’ll still be available for fucking and drinking piss, and in due course he’ll be able to use his new tool.

“That leaves us with two white cocks – since I saved the one I cut off our used meat toy last year. I think we should auction those off as souvenirs. They’re not very big, but they are kind of unusual. Not everyone has a white-boy cock as a toy.

“After that, it will be time to dispose of Joey. I think it should be done bit by bit, so I’m going to auction him off in pieces. The cock will already be gone, but we can start with his balls. You can buy them separately or bid for both. If you buy both, I’ll throw in the scrotum. Of course, buying them means you get to cut them off. I only insist that you do it very slowly so we can all enjoy it.

“I gave a lot of thought to what should be sold next. It’s tempting to cut him into pieces like arms and legs, but I think it would be more fun for someone to buy his skin. So after someone cuts off his balls, he’ll be skinned alive. The idea is that you can turn him into a nice slaveskin coat, and I’ve arranged for a leather maker to do the job for whoever wins the
bid. Again, the only requirement is that you slice off the skin very slowly and carefully. We want him to still be very much alive once he’s reduced to a big slab of meat.

“I will sell the meat piece by piece. You can buy breast meat, rump roast, thigh, or liver – whatever you want. It’ll be hard to keep him alive as we slice off the choice cuts, but we’ll do our best. The cook will prepare him to your order. I think he’ll be pretty tasty, personally. I’ve kept him pretty fit and lean, with very little fat. So think of this as a health food purchase.

“I will keep the head, which I’ll remove. I think we can keep him alive so that this is the event that kills him, but either way I want to have it preserved as a token and displayed here in the bar. Over the years, I hope we can get quite a collection.

“What’s left we’ll turn into hamburger (be sure to join us for high quality lunches over the next week or so) and maybe some bone meal for a garden. I don’t plan to waste anything.”

The comment about a collection of heads wasn’t lost on the new slave. But he had indeed been properly trained, and it didn’t affect him. He would do his best for his last year of life.

Joey was stunned at first. But as his owner described the process, he realized that it was a very appropriate use of a slave that was now all used up and of limited value. He would do his best to stay alive as long as possible, so his master would get the most enjoyment possible from the festivities.

One of the gang members looked at Joey, and taunted him:

“So, whitey, what do you think of all this? Are you going to be very filling if I buy some of you for my meat course tonight?”

Joey responded appropriately. “I belong to the owner of the bar, and I’m his to do with as he wants. I do appreciate the chance to serve everyone, and I hope this evening is a lot of fun for you. I’ll do my best to stay alive as long as I can, and I hope you’ll enjoy both cutting me up and eating me.”

Joey did survive until the master removed his head, and he was indeed a wonderful meal. His head was preserved at the bar, in part as a reminder that his replacement had a high standard to live up to.

Thrill Kill Live! by Gay Slavemeat–Gsmeat2@gmail.com

The camera began to pan down the inviting flesh of the first participant even before the show’s credits began to roll across the screen. The camera revealed nicely formed shoulders, a smooth back, and fairly muscular arms, which were raised above the head. The hands were shackled to the top of a frame, spread-eagling the participant. Below the shoulders the back was slightly shiny, with a thin layer of perspiration causing a reflection on the exposed flesh. Even from the back it was obvious that the participant had a fit, muscular torso. The obliques were solid, and the deltoids showed the results of dedicated workouts. The camera finished its initial journey with a pause at the buttocks. The cameraman knew that the audience would want to view this very enticing feature of the young male animal, and the meat was firm and extremely well shaped. This was the best feature of this particular animal in the view of the director, and he wanted others to enjoy it as he did. His job was not just to film the action as a passive observer for the benefit of the home audience, but to accentuate the most interesting and entertaining aspects of what was underway. He had won many Emmy awards for great camera work, and he was considered the best in the business.

The camera finished its tour of the young male by revealing that the feet were also shackled, so that the participant was nicely secured and spread within a wooden frame. Whatever was in store for him, he was not in any position to resist, and he was fully available and vulnerable.

As the credits rolled, identifying that this was another broadcast of the hit show “Thrill Kill Live!” on the Fox network, and beginning to list the various people who were involved with the show, the camera now focused on the front of the “participant.” His face was not overly handsome, but not badly formed. He wore a trim haircut above blue eyes and a thin set of lips. He was now moving in the frame, swaying slightly within the constraints that held him, and he was sweating a lot more.

“Please,” he cried. “This is all a mistake. I didn’t agree. I was drunk. Let me go. Don’t let him do this to me.”

The entreaties went on, but no one paid any attention. Even the camera didn’t pause for long, and soon worked its way down the front of its target object, showing a decent set of chest muscles and fairly nice abdominals. Nothing was really awesome, but it was all in nice shape and the animal was very much in his physical prime.

As the camera approached the genitals, its view was somewhat blocked. Another face was in the picture now, using his mouth to arouse the shackled complainer.

And he was having the desired effect. The victim’s cock was now fully aroused, and his complaints were more ambiguous.

“No, I don’t want to cum. I know what will happen. Don’t let him do this to me.”

The participant’s cock put the lie to his protests. As it got more and more attention from the naked young male kneeling in front of it and providing an expert blow job, the cock got more and more hard.

The cameras now split the views into multiple shots. One view focused on the rising cock, with a close-up that included the eager tongue of the kneeling cocksucker and the pre-cum juice that was starting to leak out. Another view was of the cocksucker himself, showing a second well formed young male who was himself both naked and aroused. He was using his free hands to masturbate himself while he used his mouth to arouse his stage companion. Both youth were getting close to orgasm, as revealed by the increase in pre-cum leaking from each hard penis.

A third camera shot was from the back of the victim, between his legs. It got a bit of his balls in the shot, but was mostly focused on the cocksucker, showing his body from the chest down to his cock – sort of an artistic view. And there was even a fourth camera that caught the full scene, including the undulation of the restrained victim as he tried to resist and continued to complain even as he got increasingly aroused.

The credits finished just as the two youth reached climax. The kneeling cocksucker was apparently good at his task, having achieved a nearly simultaneous orgasm. That got a cheer form the studio audience, which up to now had been very still.

But then things got interesting. As the shackled youth shot his load, which traveled a good distance across the stage, his partner struck. He picked up a knife that had not been visible to the audience or the camera, and carefully sliced off the erupting cock. The initial moans of pleasure form the victim instantly turned to creams of agony.

The cocksucker held up his prize for the camera, to the cheers and applause of the audience, and he was clearly pleased with himself. His own cock was finishing its load, which had been aimed effectively at the belly of his victim.

But the cocksucker’s satisfaction didn’t last. Just as his cock stopped shooting cum, a swishing noise was heard along with the subsiding screams of agony, and an arrow appeared as if out of nowhere. It traveled with utter accuracy and entered the ball sack of the cocksucker. The camera shot from between the legs of the emasculated victim caught the flight of the arrow and its entry into the soft flesh with perfect artistry. The cocksucker was clearly astonished, and even more so when another arrow pierced his chest. He now uttered his own screams, of both agony and shock, as he fell to the ground – bleeding and dying like his companion. The cameras caught all the action, and continued to roll as the two animals writhed in deathly pain and ultimately lay still. The show was now ready to begin.

“Good evening viewers!” welcomed a familiar voice. The camera now revealed a truly handsome young male, who was standing to the side of the stage, looking at the remains of the two naked youth. He was dressed in leather clothing, which fit quite tightly and suggested a very muscular frame and a very generous set of genitals. It was obvious that he had a hard-on under the skin-tight leather pants.

“As you know, unless you just arrived on planet Earth, I’m Kevin Strand and I’m your host and the creator of “Thrill Kill Live!” I hope everyone enjoyed our little opening fun?”

The audience cheered, with thunderous applause. The host was extraordinarily popular, and the opening scene had been well received.

“I want to thank our intro staff for that little vignette. So, how about a round of applause for Johnny and the gang?”

The audience applauded yet again.

“Incidentally, I really liked the look of surprise on the second guy’s face when the arrow nailed him in the nuts. Tell me, Johnny, how did you pull that off?”

“Thanks, Kevin. This one was actually kind of fun. The short story is that these two guys were once lovers. But the guy in the frame fell in love with another guy, and the cocksucker wanted revenge. So he got his former lover drunk and tricked him into signing the application to appear on our show. His proposal was that he’d suck off the former lover and then cut off his cock as he shot his last load. He promised that he could get them both off at the same time – which he did. I said that was OK, but he’d have to finish the task before we finished the credits. If not, we could do whatever we felt like to either of them. The idiot agreed. We had done a little background research on each of them, and they were both clear losers. So, we just ran the credits a little faster than usual, he missed his timing, and we got him right in the balls. The chest shot was just to make sure he died quickly enough to not slow down the show. These are decent looking participants, but obviously nothing special in either case. But now they’ve at least provided a little entertainment – a few minutes is all they’re worth – and we’ll get some use out of the bodies. As always, the studio audience is welcome to buy some fresh treats during commercials. And they can cut them off themselves once we get the carcasses strung up, or have our cooks do it for them.”

Johnny’s explanation of the story and the joke on the dead cocksucker got another round of applause, and a little laughter. A couple of audience members ducked out to get the first choice on the fresh treats. Tricking losers into agreeing to be killed on the show was a part of the show’s culture and yet another reason it was so popular. Recycling the dead losers as snacks was part of the show’s commitment to not wasting anything and further enhanced its profits. The treats were not cheap.

“Well done, as always,” complemented Kevin. “But now we have a much better looking loser for us to process. Let’s welcome tonight’s featured solo participant. Here’s Marcus.”

A young male walked onto the stage, and shook hands with Kevin. Kevin led him to a couch and chair that were set up on stage, and they both sat down.
Kevin was in the chair, with Marcus on the couch. Marcus was very neatly dressed, wearing a collared shirt, nice slacks, and dress shoes. He had a thoroughly clean-cut appearance. His face was striking in its beauty. He was at least movie star quality, and the audience approved, anxious to see events develop.

Marcus’ arrival was greeted with a polite round of applause.

“Don’t worry, Marcus,” Kevin explained as they settled in. “That wasn’t much of a welcome, but the audience will get a lot more enthusiastic in a while once we start working you over. But let’s start by getting to know you a little bit.

Why don’t you tell me what you do, how old you are, and why you decided to apply to be on our show in order to get tortured and snuffed in front of all our millions of viewers?”

Marcus was obviously nervous, but he rose to the occasion.

“Well, I’m 19 years old as of today, and I am a sex slave. I flunked out of high school during my first year, and my master was kind enough to let me live in his home. In return, I agreed that he would own me and I’d do whatever he wanted me to do. I have had a few jobs here and there that he arranged, but I’m not really good at much. As I’ve watched your show over the years, I realized I’m one of the losers you process. Since I’m not going anywhere in life, I figured I’d at least provide other people with some entertainment, and maybe finally add a little value. It won’t pay for what was wasted on me trying to get me educated, but at least it’s something.”

“That’s really well said, Marcus. And it’s pretty perceptive. A lot of young guys don’t realize they’re losers until later in life, and then they’re not interesting enough to be on the show. We still process them in our meat factories, but there isn’t much entertainment value. You’re doing this at a nice young age when everyone can enjoy watching you suffer and be humiliated physically and sexually. This should be a lot of fun for everyone. You’re right that you’re still a waste, and we have no doubt of your status as a real loser – we’ve checked – but at least it’s something. If you do a good job being turned into a slab of meat, you can take satisfaction in the fact millions of people will have been entertained and amused.”

“That’s my hope. I will try to do everything you tell me to do. My master agreed that it was time to dispose of me, and I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“That’s very important,” counseled Kevin. “Have you been able to provide him any value at all? It sounds like he’s owned you for about 4 years.”

“He has. I was just 15 when I flunked out and was sent to him by the principal. He is in his early twenties, and likes very young males, so one thing I did was to provide him sexual service. He also rented me to other guys who would use me however they wanted. So I’m sure he made money off me, which is good. And the other guys seemed to enjoy fucking me and using me as a sex toy or a urinal or whatever.

Probably the only real good I did, however, was shortly after I left school. The principal wanted to make an example of me for the other kids, and my master agreed. So I returned to school to tell them what had happened, and how I had become a sex slave and a whore. They made me do it standing naked in front of the class, and everyone laughed at me. As I described some of the things other guys did when they rented me, I am afraid I got aroused and developed an erection. So the class laughed even harder. Then they made me kneel down in front of my former teacher and suck him off. After that, some of the guys on the football team were invited to administer some punishment, and they hit me until I passed out. I think they fucked me while I was unconscious, since I was pretty sore in my ass when I finally woke up. They had just let me lie on the floor passed out for the rest of the class.

So, maybe some other kids worked harder to stay in school. But it actually seemed like a few flunked out on purpose to be able to satisfy their sexual desires, since there were several more in my master’s harem within a few weeks after I was presented to the class. I guess I blew that too.”

“Yeah,” Kevin responded. “Even by the low standards of the kinds of animals we snuff on the show, it sounds like you’d be a loser among losers. But at least you’ll be dead soon and you won’t be a burden any more.

“Do you have all your affairs in order? We don’t want to leave any lose ends, after all.”

“Yeah, it didn’t amount to much. I gave away what little I owned to my master years ago. He’s the one that helped me realize this is the best choice for a guy like me. And I understand you guys take care of disposing of the body. So all I’ve got left are the clothes I’m wearing.”

“Excellent. We do take care of the bodies, and you don’t have to worry. We are very environmentally conscious, and nothing will go to waste. Depending on what happens to your cock and balls during the session, they are sometimes sold as souvenirs. If your skin isn’t damaged too much, we use it to make leather clothing, and we have our own line of designer togs made from the flesh of the guys we snuff, which are very popular. That’s what I’m wearing, for example. Our studio audience gets to choose the best cuts of your meat from what’s left, and we turn the rest of you into hamburger and bone meal for fertilizer. There will be nothing left. And everyone will soon forget you ever existed, which is just as well.

“That sounds good. I especially hope people find me good to eat. Having other guys eat me is a sexual fantasy I’ve developed as I’ve been used over the past few years. My master has kept me very trim, so I should be a nice lean source of protean, for what that’s worth.”

“That’s right,” confirmed Kevin. “It sounds like your master coached you really well. Obviously someone like you couldn’t have figured that out all on your own.”

“Oh, no. I really owe him. He helped me a lot.”

“That sure sounds right to me. But there’s one last question to ask. Have you given some thought to how you think we should kill you? Your opinion is irrelevant of course, but we usually find it amusing and every now and then someone adds an aspect to the torture that we like. So we’re always curious to know.”

“Well, once again my master roommate has helped me on this. I know it’s a question you always ask, so I asked him what he thought. And he told me that I should stress that I don’t deserve a quick death. So things like hangings and strangling don’t seem appropriate. I should suffer for as long a time as you have on the show for this segment, so that I can provide as much amusement to the audience as possible. I’m not vain enough to think I’d deserve something that lasts beyond the show, like a crucifixion, but I shouldn’t be let off too easily or quickly.

Also, my master stressed that I should be humiliated. I know I’ll get sodomized and pissed on, since that’s pretty standard. But he thinks I deserve to be thoroughly debased, making me understand how worthless I am and thereby adding to the humor for the viewers. I’m sure he’s right about all that, and I’ll do my best to cooperate. I really want people to enjoy watching me get what I deserve.”

“Great. He really did train you well. And I have no problem assuring you will be tortured and kept alive and suffering as long as we can, given our time constraints. But you’re hardly special and we do have our limits. It’s important that losers like you don’t get delusions of relevance. I can also assure you you’ll be treated like the piece of shit you truly are.

“Now it sounds like we should finish up your preparations. Do you want to give away what you’re wearing? I think the audience would like to see what you really look like.”

“Sure,” came the response. “What do you want me to do?”

Kevin gestured for Marcus to stand up, and escorted him to a round pedestal that had been brought on stage where the earlier scene had occurred. The two introductory animals had been removed and the stage had been cleaned up while Kevin and Marcus had been chatting.

“Stand here, so people can look at you. And you can hand me your clothes as you take them off. Take your time. We’re not in a hurry, and I think we’ll all enjoy watching you strip.”

Marcus did as instructed. The nice collared shirt came off first, and revealed a very tight undershirt that featured Marcus’ well defined chest. The audience became more interested as they anticipated what would be revealed next. They were also impatient, but they were not disappointed when the undershirt was quickly removed. Marcus had a fantastic body. His shoulders, pecks and abs were astonishingly handsome. The audience now began to cheer loudly, calling to Marcus to finish the strip show.

“Hold on, folks,” interjected Kevin. “I know there’s more to see, and I’m anxious too. But let’s make sure we get these shirts into the right hands first.”

And with that, Kevin invited members of the audience to bid for the two pieces of clothing. They went quickly. He next had Marcus remove his shoes and socks, so that he was standing bare-chested and barefoot on the pedestal. The shoes and socks were sold off as well.

“Now we can finish the task.

“OK, Marcus, time to show the audience all you’ve got.”

Marcus slowly removed his slacks. This time there was no follow-on. He was not wearing any underwear, so his body was quite naked when he stepped out of them.

That got yet another cheer from the audience, and Kevin was quick to dispose of the trousers. All the attention was now on Marcus’ fully exposed masculinity.

Marcus not only had a fantastic upper body, he had a great butt, well formed legs, and a truly impressive set of genitals. He was already rock hard, the prospect of being displayed naked in front of millions of people having turned him on a lot. His cock was huge, but not disproportionate to the rest of his body. It thrust out in front of him, smooth and straight. The balls were also ample, and hung down in a larger than usual scrotum. And, as the pedestal turned, the audience got a good view of Marcus’ back and buttocks. Here too he was a wonderful specimen. Marcus was well beyond handsome. He was beautiful.

“Well, Marcus’ body speaks for itself. I think we can all see why we accepted his application. This should be a very good segment of tonight’s show.

“Marcus, I want you to stay on the pedestal and keep yourself aroused. Is that clear?”

There was a bit more authority in Kevin’s admonition, but it didn’t affect Marcus. At this point he was very excited, and he nodded agreement. His hands went to his cock, caressing it to assure it stayed hard. He had never had so much attention.

“And now, my wonderful viewers, it’s time to introduce my next guest. He’s not a loser. He’s a major winner, and a friend of the show. So please welcome Marcus’ master, Mr. Robert Gray.”

The next person to walk out was almost as beautiful as Marcus. And he was almost as young. However, Robert was more of a muscular stud, like Kevin, than a twink like Marcus. He was both tall and powerful in his appearance.
And he was naked, revealing a massive penis that was fully erect and swaying in front of him as he walked. However, he did wear a pair of leather boots. He walked confidently on stage, and went to the couch where Marcus had sat earlier. As Kevin approached the chair, he gestured to Robert to sit, and Robert did so. He also began to stroke his massive cock, casually playing with himself as if oblivious to the millions of viewers. Clearly, like Marcus, Robert enjoyed the attention. But unlike Marcus, Robert enjoyed being in charge.

“Frankly, it’s an honor to have you here,” said Kevin. “You’ve sent some wonderful meat our way over the past few years, and I’m really glad to have you on the show in person. And you’re obviously quite a stud. I’ve gotten rather rigid looking at you and Marcus, so let me get a little more comfortable.”

With that, Kevin slowly stripped off his leather clothes. He couldn’t resist a little sales pitch for the “Loser Leather” line that he had been wearing and that the show promoted, but he didn’t dally too long. He knew the audience was anxious for things to get physical.

“Well,” started Kevin, now both naked and hard. “You and I have a fun task ahead of us. But why don’t’ you quickly tell us a little about yourself and how you got Marcus to be aware of his best use before we start? I do think the audience would enjoy a quick history. It’s your views that matter, not the meat rotating on the pedestal over there.” Kevin pointed at the beautiful young volunteer, who was still obediently massaging his cock and still quite erect as he slowly rotated on the pedestal to reveal ass aspects of his body.

Marcus took no offense. He knew what he was. Robert had explained it all to him many times.

“To start with, I have a deal with some of the local high school principals to alert me to good looking losers who are not going to make it to graduation. The principals make sure they flunk out early on, usually during their first year, and send them my way. When I get hold of them I offer them an alternative – live with me as slaves and provide sexual and other services to make up for their failures.

One of the many companies I own is a male brothel and escort service, so I turn them into obedient young whores. It takes a little training to get the attitude right sometimes, but they always come around.

“I own guys of various ages, but there’s more profit in the really young ones. Lots of guys like to use them, and it was a problem for our society for quite a while. But this way, they use boy-meat that is of no value or interest to anyone. They satisfy their urges and no one gets hurt who matters. Also, I don’t set any limits, so they can do anything they want to the whores. They just pay a premium if the animal is damaged or killed. I pick up the body, ship it nice and fresh to you guys for processing, and have one of the other whores clean up the mess and continue servicing the customer. So, again, there’s no harm done.

“Marcus is obviously a lot better looking than most kids, so I took him into my house for my personal use and that of my guests. It turns out he’s not only really pretty, but he’s really horny and a natural masochist. So he’s been a lot of fun to train and use. For the record, he’s been used a lot.
That’s no virgin ass we’re looking at, and I’ve enjoyed the training process. I keep him in good shape physically, feed him very healthy dog food, and let the staff play with him whenever they want. I’ve owned him exactly four years, since he arrived on his 15th birthday. He’s gotten so much use it seems time to finish him off, and it seemed more fun to make it his birthday present now that he’s just turned 19. After all, it’s much more fun to snuff these animals while they’re still attractive and their cocks are still functioning well.”

“That’s a wonderful service you provide. Incidentally, what’s Marcus’ best sexual trait?” asked Kevin.

“The little fuck will do absolutely anything you want him to do. He really has no limits and no inhibitions. He wasn’t kidding when he told you he’s turned on by the fact he’ll be eaten – he’d like it to be while he’s still alive, for that matter. My buddies and I had considered snuffing him ourselves at a private party, which is what we do with the other whores when they’re no longer profitable enough, but he seemed too appealing. It would be selfish not to share the fun with your audience.”

“We appreciate your consideration. I think he’s going to be a hit. And he’s gotten even harder as you have described him. His cock is now pointing straight up and there’s a little pre-cum.”

“Yeah, this will be fun. I do think we should take our time, as I instructed him to say during your interview with him. And I think you’ll enjoy how far he can shoot a load of cum. He should do a lot better than that miserable complaining fucker you started the show with. The key is to be sure he’s in serous pain with a dick up his ass when he shoots. It has a nice effect on him.

“I usually use a cattle prod on the balls cranked up to full voltage, but you probably have some even better ideas.”

“We’ll give it our best. As a matter of fact, why don’t we go over to the wheel of torture and pick an ending for him? We’ve removed all the quick deaths like hanging and suffocating, so you can be sure it will be prolonged – like we all want.”

“Great. If we do this right, he should last quite a while. I’m pretty horny and anxious to start the fun,”

Robert concurred.

“Me too,” agreed Kevin. “I’m sure our audience here and at home is as well. So let’s get this show into action.”

With that, Robert and Kevin walked over to Marcus, and led him to the other side of the stage. There was a huge wheel that had been brought out, with various “choices” printed on the spokes. It had been modeled after the old
“Wheel of Fortune” but this was a “Wheel of Deaths.” There were lots of choices, and Kevin reminded the audience of a few of them.

“OK folks, in just a moment Marcus will spin the wheel to determine what kind of torture we’ll inflict for the final part of the snuff. But don’t worry; we’ll get lots of fun out of him before we finish him off. And there are lots of fun choices for the finale. The wheel could land on vivisecting, instructing us to cut him into little pieces while trying to keep him alive as long as possible.

“Or maybe we’ll get to cook him. Here’s a fun one (pointing at the wheel) – we might skin him alive. I might like that one, since I need a new coat.”

With that introduction, Kevin gestured toward the wheel, and Marcus gave it a spin. The wheel was designed to spin for a while to build suspense, and it did so. It eventually slowed down, and finally stopped. The selection was made and Marcus’ fate was sealed. The final torture would be for Marcus to be whipped to death.

“Well,” laughed Kevin. “There goes my coat! His skin won’t be in any shape to use once we’re done. But I really enjoy whipping these worthless pieces of shit like Marcus, so I’ll get over it. He’s got really beautiful skin, so it will be fun to use the whips to cut into him. He’ll be pretty shredded when we’re done – and he’s done.

“But first, my friend,” looking at Robert, “I think we should do a little fucking. Don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” came the reply. Robert had been stroking Marcus as the three were standing on stage. It wasn’t a stroke of caring – it was of pure lust. Robert wanted sex, and Marcus was a great sex object.

The three naked males, all fully aroused and obviously horny, now returned to where the coach had been. That set had been replaced during the spinning of the wheel, and it now contained a huge mattress, a table with lots of “tools” for Robert and Kevin to use, and various devices that they could use to restrain and display Marcus. It was a fully equipped torture chamber.

“Since you were kind enough to send Marcus our way, why don’t you do the first fuck?” Kevin generously offered.

Robert didn’t need a second invitation. He pushed Marcus onto a frame that functioned like a saw-horse, and quickly attached Marcus’ wrists and ankles to restrain him. It wasn’t that he thought Marcus would resist, but it added to his sense of power over the boy. The eager young victim was now nicely positioned to be butt fucked, belly side down, arms and legs extended, with his inviting bubble-butt positioned conveniently for the attack. There even were side poles for Robert to use to get better traction as he thrust his huge cock into the helpless target.

There was no foreplay, and Robert was utterly focused on his sexual needs as he pushed his large penis into Marcus and then commenced an intense fucking session. Meanwhile, Kevin went over to Marcus’ face and thrust his own cock into that opening. Marcus took it enthusiastically, and showed that he was a very talented and experienced cock sucker. He was now being fucked at both ends, and his own cock was near eruption. But Robert had trained Marcus with some success, and Marcus made sure not to erupt himself unless permitted to do so.

The two executioners took their time, and as the studio and home audiences watched they vigorously used Marcus as a sex toy. Yet, amazingly, they didn’t shoot their loads. They were both very disciplined, and they had more fun in mind before giving up heir cum.

After a while, Kevin signaled to Robert and they both withdrew their manhood from Marcus’ body. They released Marcus, and ordered him to stand between them.

Meanwhile, Kevin had grabbed a baseball bat and Robert a studded paddle. When Marcus stood, they began to beat him.

The first blows were to the buttocks and the chest. But there were no parts of Marcus’ exposed body that were off limits. If a blow to the belly caused internal damage, so what? If Marcus was bruised and no longer quite so pretty, that was part of the idea. And it was particularly satisfying to connect with that spongy pouch of man-flesh that was Marcus’ scrotum. Blow after blow hit there, smashing his balls and eliciting animal-like screams of pain.

Marcus collapsed, falling to the ground and writhing in agony from the blows.

But that didn’t get him off the hook. In fact, it got worse. Each of his torturers was wearing metal-tipped boots, and now they added kicks to the other blows. Kevin landed a particularly strong kick right on the suffering ball sack, and Marcus fainted from the pain. The audience applauded loudly.

The two muscular studs looked down on their handiwork. It would be a few minutes before Marcus could be revived to continue the entertainment, so they decided to take a break while the veterinarians worked on getting Marcus back to a conscious state. Robert and Kevin caressed each other, kissed, and began a major love-making scene on the cushioned stage. While Marcus had been the prettiest of the three, Kevin and Robert were more masculine and more muscular.

They used their wonderfully formed and fit bodies to excite each other, sucking in a passionate 69, then turning and embracing. Each allowed the other to enter his backside, but it was done with care and affection, not the way they had simply used Marcus as an object. Each brought the other’s cock to an even higher degree of excitement with careful attention from mouth and tongue. And each shot several loads of thick man-juice over the other’s body. This was a sex scene as good as any porn flick, and the audience was thrilled.

In due course the lovers were alerted that Marcus was once again available. He was now strung up by his hands, feet slightly off the floor, swinging freely.

And, amazingly, he was once again erect. The fucking and beating had actually aroused him even more, and watching the sex show had assured another nice hard-on. But his body showed the bruises from the prior episode, and he was clearly still in pain. So their efforts hadn’t been wasted.

“Shall we masturbate him before we get into the rough stuff?” asked Robert.

“You’re the expert, but I think the audience would enjoy watching him shoot, and he might not be very functional once I get going on his balls – which are my next target.”

“Sure,” responded Kevin. “You said he’s a pretty good shooter, and I know I’d enjoy the performance. I hate to let him have any pleasure, but I suppose there’s no way to avoid it.”

“Yeah, there sort of is. I trained him to respond to pain, and he’ll usually shoot a good load while I apply electricity to his balls. It took a while to train him, but that was a fun task for me. It doesn’t always work, but let’s give it a try. Oh yeah, it also helps if there’s a big dick up his ass. Interested?”

Kevin didn’t need a second invitation. Even though he and Robert had shot several loads, they too were already erect and ready to go again. Kevin stood behind Marcus, and being a bit taller he was able to thrust his large cock straight into the defenseless youth. He wrapped his arms around Marcus’ beautiful chest and started pumping.

Meanwhile, Robert had picked up a nearby cattle prod and turned it to full strength. He didn’t go immediately for the balls, but started with Marcus’ thigh and then his chest. He particularly let it rest on the nipples, which had hardened nicely with Marcus’ sexual excitement and were a tempting target. To the satisfaction of the audience, Robert used the probe to essentially burn each nipple, slowly, into oblivion. Marcus was now not quite so pretty, his beautiful nipples replaced by a small stream of dripping blood. Marcus jerked and screamed, but obviously had no recourse. Kevin pumped even harder.

Now Robert turned to his main prey. He placed the charged end of the cattle prod between the little spongy balls nestled in Marcus’ dangling sack of manhood. Marcus’ scream of pain was barely human. He writhed and jerked in his agony, trying to get away from the source of the pain. But to no avail.

And then Marcus shot his load. Robert had not even touched his cock – Marcus had been set off by the intensity of the pain and the realization of his fate being final that came with having part of his body burned off – the very nipples Robert had always loved to torture. It was a great shot – cum was fired well into the air and across the stage. As the camera recorded the event, several more waves shot from Marcus’ gyrating cock. Kevin too unloaded, placing his seed inside the doomed boy.

“That was a great show, Robert.” Kevin was clearly impressed. “You did a really good job training this guy. He makes a very entertaining circus animal.”

“Thanks. I do think he was one of my better efforts. But now I’m all horny again. Mind if I fuck him?”

And, of course, that was perfectly OK with Kevin and the audience. So Robert took a turn with his own huge cock in Marcus’ backside, shortly adding his seed to Kevin’s. It would be the last time Marcus would be fucked, just as his orgasm would be his last load of cum.

“I think we’re done with his asshole,” mused Kevin. “Shall we close it up?”

The torturers considered their options, and then decided that Kevin would focus on the used-up ass while Robert focused on the balls. Robert was quite anxious to remove them, and Kevin was hardly going to object to such an entertaining idea.

Kevin picked up a thick metal poker from the nearby table. The device had a cord, and he plugged it into an outlet. Turning it on, he explained that it would become red hot after it was thrust into Marcus’ butt hole and that it would not only cause massive pain but it would literally cook his intestines.

Robert, meanwhile, had focused on a metallic bowl shaped to fit around a guy’s scrotum. This, too, was electrified. The idea of this handy toy was to cook the balls while they were still in the sack and attached to the victim’ body.

Robert explained that it was also designed to activate the many nerve endings in the scrotum to send pain signals to the brain.

“The cool thing about this little cooker is that it still causes lots of pain even after the balls are nearly cooked and ready to be removed.”

It didn’t take long for the two torturers to finish their tasks. Kevin thrust the poker up Marcus’ ass and generated a torrent of screams of agony. As he slowly removed the instrument, Marcus’ ass was sealed, with much of his insides nicely cooked.

But Robert’s toy was even more entertaining, since the audience could watch the cooking as it happened. After a while a little light went off and the device let out a “ping” to indicate it was done. As Robert removed it, the two perfectly prepared testicles dropped into his hand. The device had literally cooked away the scrotum, so there was nothing left of it. With his balls removed, Marcus was no longer a functioning male.

“Care for a snack?” offered Robert, holding out one of the trophies. “It’s nice and fresh.”

“Thanks,” replied Kevin, popping the remnant of Marcus’ manhood into his mouth while Marcus looked on in fascination.

After their snack, Robert took the lead in finishing off Marcus’ genitals. There was still the cock itself to deal with, and they had assured it would remain hard even after the balls were destroyed by tying it off. So it still flopped loosely in front of Marcus. Robert’s approach was a bit more dramatic than the electricity they’d used to start the process of turning Marcus from a slave to a serving of meat. He took a small firecracker and stuffed it into the cum slit at the front of the penis. He went slowly so that it would be a bit more dramatic and painful, but he had no trouble getting it in. After all, it hardly mattered if he inflicted permanent damage. He was about to do a lot worse.

Then, with a bit of showmanship, he lit a match and slowly brought it to the fuse of the firecracker. The fuse was somewhat long, so this too took a little time. Marcus continued to watch in horror, understanding what was about to happen.

The firecracker did its job perfectly. There was a loud explosion, and Marcus’ cock literally blew apart. There was nothing left of what had been his most prized possessions – his beautiful cock and his impressive balls.
He was now a eunuch. Kevin used a nearby blowtorch to cauterize the opening so he wouldn’t bleed to death.

But now it was time for Marcus to die. After all, Robert and Kevin had worked hard and were getting a bit tired. They wanted to save some energy for another fuck-fest after the show, and they were turning each other on as they worked over their mutual victim. Besides, Marcus wasn’t nearly as interesting as he had been. He had screamed so much that he really couldn’t make any more sounds. His genitals were gone and his asshole was seared shut.

The bruises from his earlier beating took away a bit of the glamour of his young body, as did the lost of his nipples.

Robert and Kevin each selected a whip and began the final task of their entertainment. The wheel had selected whipping as the finale for Marcus, and they honored the selection. Standing on each side of Marcus they began to flog him. There was no place that was not a target, and the whips were designed to draw blood as they lacerated his delicate flesh. Stroke after stroke found its target, and he gyrated nicely in response to the blows.
Both Kevin and Robert were massively turned on by the exercise, and they were eager to finish in order to satisfy their lust for each other. So the strokes got harder and harder.

And, in fairly short order, Marcus stopped reacting. He was now a piece of meat, ready for the butchers to cut him into steaks, chops, and hamburger. His bones and sinews would be fertilizer. And no one would ever remember him.

As Kevin and Robert admired their handiwork and began to suck each other, the camera focused on the dangling carcass. It showed Marcus’ pretty face dropped down on his bleeding chest. It showed the pecks where he had once had nice hard nipples. And it showed where he had once displayed his proud manhood. But as the credits completed their roll across the screen, Marcus was cut down for dissection and sale, and “Thrill Kill Live!” completed yet another successful show.

Ray’s Final Photo-Shoot by Bartholomeal

Ray was laying there helplessly on the bed staring at me intently. He knew what he was about to get as he watched me pull down my pants and boxers in 1 fellow swoop revealing my thick, hard, oozing cock. When he saw my meat (and how could he not when it was already the thick 9 and a half inches it grows to be every time I’m about to off a hottie,) he quickly began to panic; frantically trying to get out of the cuffs. It wasn’t gonna happen, but that didn’t stop him from frantically thrashing and protesting. The sounds he was muffling from behind the duct tape I’d slapped on him only a couple minutes before were intense whimpers of sheer mania and fear. And with every indistinguishable protest he made my cock throbbed more and more intently. My boner had gotten so massive that I could feel the pressure building up all the way up in my neck.

 

 

 

He knew what was gonna happen, which is why he was struggling so hard to get free. See, I found Ray on an S&M-themed website. He was a young 19 year old stud. He stood about 5’9”, he had short, dark hair, bulging biceps and pecs. Oh the pecs. My cock oozed precum at the thought of his massive muscles and how they were gonna feel later on while they were desperately thrashing against my body as I ended him. He was pale, and had the face of an angel. He had Hollywood charm. The good kind; The real kind. The kind like when you’re looking through Tumblr feed trying to find pictures of hot soldiers getting beheaded and find videos of them instead. That was him. That’s Ray, The Video.

 

 

 

Anyway, back to it: Ray most likely knew what was happening to him, because he was into all that freaky S&M shit. I bet he’d beaten off a million times just thinking about how he was gonna make some chick his little sex slave and force her to give him fellatio only to shoot her in the head with his 9-mil as he busted his nut in her mouth.

 

 

 

He was straight. I love ’em straight. It always makes ’em struggle and fear me even more than it would a gay or a girl, and the pain I’d be inflicting on their hole with my 9 incher makes them wiggle around like a fish out of water. Of course I like the innocent guys better, but when it’s slim pickings, guys like Ray do the job just fine.

 

 

 

I cannot tell you how easy it was to get him to my flat. I took a page out of Dahmer’s book, and told him I’d do a photo shoot for him. See, he was desperate to get a girlfriend -or at least some sex. He and I had chatted a couple times via email so I knew precisely how desperate he was to get a girlfriend. He had sent me various photos of himself, many of them nude, in hopes that I could Photoshop them and pass them off to my various Female friends to score him a girlfriend. His nude pictures were the shit yo. I wacked the hell outta my meat dozens of times a day looking at them, imagining how his cute Hollywood face was gonna look and feel dying in agony on the end of my dick. Such a shame that this boy was about to die a desperate, insecure, unloved loser who had no idea just how hot he was, and that it was only for his good lucks that his life was going to end brutally today. Had he not been so hot he wouldn’t have had such an unfortunate end.

 

 

 

Yeah the only difference between what Dahmer did, and what I did was that Dahmer’s victims were lured to his house under the guise that they’d be paid to let him photograph them, whereas Ray was here to see me because he was desperate to find love; Someone to unload his semen into, and wanted me to photograph him, all but begged me to. Well, although he wasn’t gonna shoot a load, he sure was gonna take one; Maybe even 2 or 3.

 

 

 

So once I heard the soft knock on my front door this afternoon I was already ready to bust a nut, and hadn’t even been touching myself all day long. Yeah, just thinking about what I was going to be doing in the evening made me hard as a rock. It was all I could do to keep from banging my waist against the bed all afternoon as I set up for the “photo-shoot.” I was about to open the door to Hollywood, and my cock was clawing at my tighty-whities, aching to get out of the prison I’d been keeping him in all day, and fuck some Hollywoodie bros. He was ready for some action, and he was about to get it. Of course my perverse mind and all of its odd ramblings wasn’t helping keep the little guy tame. I stood at the door for a few moments looking out at Ray through the peephole, which was irony considering my purpose in standing there a few moments was to wait for my erection to subside a little bit, at least to unnoticeable proportions.

 

 

 

“Okay, it’s as ‘down-boy’ as it’s going to get” I thought to myself as I opened the door. “Show-Time” was the second thing that popped into my head as I pulled back the door and reached out my hand to Ray’s own hand. Our hands would meet, I knew, in one of those weird young punk handshake things. As we both pulled our hands away in one of those finger grip things I felt how callus and manly his veiny hands were. “Shit, I felt a little drippage.” Gosh, I was worse than a voice-cracking high-schooler boy about to get pussy for the first time in his young, pimple-infested life.

 

 

 

“Hey RayRay, come on in. I’ve got the shoot all set up in the living room if ya wanna check it out.” He smiles as he walks past. Only brushing up against me with his massive pecs ever so slightly. But slightly enough that my little mister was beginning to stir. Ray’s smiling face lit up even more so, as he gleefully looked back at me while loosening his gigantic, dark, over-sized, bubbly winter jacket.

 

 

 

“Hey Bro, you got a little Herb?”

 

 

 

“Of course I do,” I say with a smile. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go pull out some of my funny brownies,” to which he nods in approval and sits on the couch, next to the bed I had set up in the living room.

 

 

 

The only thing funny about the brownies I’m going into the kitchen to get him is the fact that last night as I made them knowing what a pothead this guy was, I shot a fat-ass load in the mix just thinking about all the ways I was gonna make this guy beg me for his life. Then I just stirred in my steaming man-juice, dumped the bowl’s contents into a glass pan, and popped it into the oven at 350.

 

 

 

Then, as I’d waited for the brownies to cook I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled ‘em down, and brushed my hands across the nearly empty bowl. The remaining brownie mixture was caked on the side. It felt gooey between my hands, and tasty as I slowly licked one of my fingertips. After which I brought my hand down to give my little-mister some more love and attention. He liked it so much that he spit at me within seconds.

 

 

 

Anyway, point being, no, he wasn’t going to get brownies with weed in them. He was only going to think that he was. And that was the only thing that made the brownies funny. No, I wanted him to be fully aware of everything I’d be saying to him during our photo-shoot. A lot of killers like to inflict as much physical pain as possible onto their vix. But me? I like fucking their minds. Tormenting them with the actual act of physical pain would be nothing if not talked about in depth before or during the encounter. It’s all about the mind and how I make it my playground in the last moments of my hot-ass vix life. Yes, I enjoy their bodies of course, but that’s only the biological part. It’s their fear, their shame, their anger, their laughter; It’s all of those things that really turn me on, and make me cum oh so heavenly.

 

 

 

“Eat one of these” I say with a smile as I enter the living-room holding out my plate of chocolate spermies. “They’re to die for, and it’ll start feeling really good in here before long. You’ll feel things you ain’t ever felt before.”

 

 

 

As he scarfed down the creamy brownies I momentarily found myself deep in thought; in my own little world. I was replaying what I had just said to him. I had to make sure for my own clarity and peace of mind that I hadn’t lied to him just then. And I didn’t, I decided, as if to convince a third me. I’d said IT would be feeling good IN HERE; implying it’d feel good for me. And I said “he’d feel things he ain’t ever felt before”. I didn’t say those things would make him feel good -just that he’d feel them.

 

 

 

I didn’t need to ask him how the brownies were, the moans of delight said all I needed to hear. “Bro, these are seriously. Best. Brownies. Ever.”

 

 

 

“Oh yeah? You like what I can make with my baby-batter do ya? Nice, ‘cause you’re gonna be getting a lot more of that later while you’re dying on my dick.” “Sweet. Glad you like ‘em. Wanna get started?”

 

 

 

“What do ya want me to do?”

 

 

 

“I want you to squirm helplessly below me as I dump my steaming hot load of man juice in your weeping battered face.” “Well I guess we can start with you standing here,” I gesture as I walk in the direction of the camera.

 

 

 

I begin going all out; getting in full director mode. “You’ll wanna keep the shirt on for the first couple poses. Women love muscles, and you obviously got ‘em, but they want some sort of an emotional connection with what they see first. So when Chick A first sees your profile, before seeing the goods, she’s gonna wanna have a look deep into your eyes and see that you have the potential to be The One. And Ray, you’ve got that charm she’s looking for, we’ve just gotta show it to her. She’s gonna wanna feel safe while looking at your picture, so we’re gonna give her that. You’ve got beautiful, gorgeous eyes that would make any chick moist. So let’s start there before we lose the shirt.”

 

 

 

“Okay.” He replies. He’d kept director me’s eyes the entire time I’d spoke. Gosh how I love it when a fa-hottie looks up to me. Makes it all the more sensual and erotic when those pretty little inquisitive eyes turn to sheer horror and confusion later when I’m about to make a mess of him –and in him for that matter. Of course Ray might be a different story since he’s into brutal sex. Who knows, maybe by pleasuring myself tonight I’m actually saving several women the same awful fate I’m gonna be giving to him. And on that subject, I always love to blow loads while watching Dexter. He and I would make quite the team.

 

 

 

I’m about 6 feet from Ray holding the camera up close to my eye. Ray’s looking goofy and smiling sheepishly into the camera. It’s like he’s looking into my eyes, and suddenly my meat begins to spring to life, like a bear awaking from a long winter’s sleep, he’s hungry, and he’s growing hungrier by the minute, I realize, and then move on.

 

 

 

“Okay, these are great. They’re gonna make the chicks so hot and eager to meet you that you won’t be able to beat ‘em off ya with a stick.” He smiles even more than he just had been for the photographs. I wonder if he was thinking about actually beating women with sticks just then. I know I was throwing the third me a little inside joke when I said it.

 

 

 

“You really think so?”

 

 

 

“Oh yeah. You’re definitely gonna get some action soon.” “And so is my dick!”

 

 

 

“Fuck yeah!,” he agrees.

 

 

 

“Okay now take off your shirt and give me your sexiest poses. I wanna see the veins in your muscles pop as you flex.”

 

 

 

“Okay,” he says as he begins removing his shirt, “I didn’t get a chance to go to the gym today, but I did do a couple pushups and crunches this morning when I woke up.”

 

 

 

He starts posing shirtless for me as I continue taking pictures. “Oh don’t worry, they won’t even know. You look like you just stepped out of the gym. You’ve got that little bit of shine going on all over your body.”

 

 

 

“Shine?”

 

 

 

“Yeah, like a slight sweat all over your body, which looks good in these pictures.”

 

 

 

“Oh yeah, I dressed warm because the walk over here was so cold.”

 

 

 

“That so?” This guy was so gullible, though I couldn’t really care any less, and he wouldn’t either if he knew what I know; That in a few moments the temperature outside would be the least of his worries.

 

 

 

“Brutal, man. Just brutal.”

 

 

 

“Give it 2 minutes, Ray, and then say that again.” “Okay, so why don’t you lay down on the bed there, and I’ll reposition the camera.”

 

 

 

“Okay.” He lays back on the bed as suggested. “Yeah I’m gonna really start getting serious about going to the gym every day. My dad and all his friends make fun of me for being so scrawny. I’m like the smallest guy at the house usually. It’s no wonder I’m single. No girl wants me standing next to Tom and Terry.”

 

 

 

Gosh, how sad, I thought as I instinctively nodded as if listening to his small talk. He worries so much about his body, thinking it’s not good enough to score him any. He doesn’t even realize what his beautiful bulky body’s about to get him into. Insecurity. Gotta love it. It’s when you’re draining the life out of them that they realize how much they wanna live, and how silly all of that frivolous worry was. At least, that’s what I assume they’re thinking. I’ve never had the misfortune of being killed so I can’t honestly say that’s what happens.

 

 

 

Okay, now it’s onto the next phase of the plan. The part that’s always so up in the air I never really know how it’s going to turn out. “Okay,” I begin, “time for the cuff pictures.” He looks at me with the anticipated sort of confused look I was expecting, so I offer him my well thought out scripted answer. “Yeah. You wanna get a girl in chains right?”

 

 

 

“Yeah but I want her to wear ‘em, not me.”

 

 

 

He answered how I expected he would, so I continue reading my memorized script’s dialog, “And going back to the trust in the eyes thing, you wanna show her that you’re just as willing to do what you’re asking her to do.” I gets nothing. Almost as if I’m talking to hay. I continue, “you want a girl to get freaky with you, right? You want her in cuffs, you wanna piss on her, you wanna make her your bitch. Right?” “Is that the beginning of a light bulb?” “You do, so you gotta work for it. Work for that pussy. Show her that you’re confident. You’re willing to go to the ends of the earth for her. She’ll think it’s sexy. She’ll love it.”

 

 

 

“You’re right,” he says as he lies back and cuffs his right hand to the bed post. “Hey, you wanna grab the other one?” he asks me.

 

 

 

“All in due time my little sex doll. Oh, right, that’s me.” “Yep,” I say, sitting down the camera. After both of his hands are cuffed securely to the bed posts I know he’s all mine. He doesn’t yet know it but in just a few moments he’s going to be longing for the days he felt small next to his father and all his friends. But it’s almost time for the fun to begin, so I wanna stretch this time out as long as I can, because this for me is better than the sex, and then, when I finally bring my little-mister out of hiding, he’s got a nice slab of boy meat to wake up to.

 

 

 

Back over at the camera I snap a couple photos for show as he looks intently into the camera. He’s unaware, and even I’d forgotten at that point, that there was a separate video camera that had, from the far corner of the room, been filming our entire encounter from the beginning.

 

 

 

I walk over to him and let him know his freaky S&M poses with the cuffs were sexy as hell, and that we needed to cuff his feet too; That it would add to the eroticism that the girls would be feeling. He didn’t object. I can say one thing; his poses were definitely adding to my erection. Ah, the eroticism was intense! My cock was fighting with me so hard internally. He so desperately wanted to get hard and spring to life, but I couldn’t allow him to until I’d securely acted out the vital details of the scene, by staying true to the page.

 

 

 

Back over at the camera taking more for show photos I flashed-back to a conversation we’d had via email a couple days prior to. He’d talked about wanting a girl so bad he was almost willing to let me blow him just so he could finally get off to something other than his own hand. I dunno why I started thinking about it, but it helped me make up my mind on what scenario I wanted to act out. Yeah this was all scripted, but you ever read one of those “Choose Your Own Adventure” things? Yeah, this was like that. Typically, there’s a different version of the script for several possible outcomes. Meaning the vic is improving, while I stay scripted, reading whatever lines his response allows me to.

 

 

 

Walking back over to him, I sit my show camera down at the foot of the bed. I make my way toward the head of the bed, and pass it. Next thing Ray knows is that I’m putting duct tape over his mouth. I hadn’t told him this little detail ahead of time like I’d let him know all of the previous details ahead of time. I wanted to see a look of panic. My cock was hardening just seeing that helpless confused look he suddenly got in his eyes. But it was only temporary, I knew, I wasn’t quite ready to go all Hitler on him just yet.

 

 

 

“It’ll look hot. Nothing sexier than a bitch with no voice, right?” I think he flashed me a smile just then. He was a lot more relaxed than he had been a moment ago.

 

 

 

Back over at the camera I took a couple more for-show photos, and then walked back over to him. This time I sat the camera down on the chair next to the bed and quickly pulled his pants down before he could protest, if he even would have. He looks at me. He appears to be smiling at me from behind that duct tape. I look down at his boxers, which are beginning to protrude. Slowly at first, and faster as one moment turns into the next, and the next, and the next. “Oh god my cock is so hard right now!”

 

 

 

“Why RayRay, looks like you’ve got a little problem going on there in BoxerTown,” I say with a devilish smirk on my face. He appears to be reciprocating. His eyes got narrower as if he was smiling. “Do you want me to give ’em a little love before we take pictures of him?”

 

 

 

Now, although he had tape over his mouth and therefore couldn’t speak, his response was still undeniable. I could clearly hear him say “uh-huh” through the muffles. Well, that and his boxers bounced about 11 inches when I asked him provocatively if he wanted me to show him some love. So I pulled the familiar little guy out of his dog-house. I say little, but in actuality he was easily 11 inches, and he curved down. I had already seen his member in pictures. Mmm, his little guy was tasting so much sweeter than I imagined he would when I acted this scene out earlier on my dog.

 

 

 

Once I tasted the precum I knew he was gonna eventually give me, it was going to be time for me to move on to the next scene of the script: The Releasing of the Devil. It’s a shame he squirted so quick.“Damn RayRay, why’d ya have to wait so long in between blowing your load, man?” Oh well, too late now. It was time. I took center stage. Boy did I feel good as I stood up in front of him.

 

 

 

I looked down at poor helpless Ray with such pity, and with such a hard-on. “So tell me RayRay, did you know when you left your house this afternoon that you were never gonna be back?”

 

 

 

He offered me a muffled, but distinct “huh???”

 

 

 

“Did you know you were gonna die in a puddle of cum at the end of a guy’s ragged dick?”

 

 

 

Ray’s eyes got that familiar “oh shit” look I‘d seen so many, many times before, and he’s rewarded by getting an “oh hell yeah” look back when I pull my monster out of the hole of my boxers. He’s already dripping steadily. When Ray begins frantically shaking his arms, trying to free his wrists from the cuffs, my little monster pulsates so much I can feel it in my head.

 

 

 

He helplessly tries turning away from me, as if not seeing me would mean I’d suddenly be gone. I just stand there slowly stroking my little guy as if trying to calm a hungry, riled up Rottweiler who is staring down a kitten.

 

 

 

To Ray’s dismay I am in fact still there when he turns back around. I’m gazing into his face while rubbing my little mister ever so slightly. Not too hard because I want this feeling to last forever, and one wrong move could send me past the point of no return, and I wouldn’t want that. How else would I be able to observe this poor 19-year-old hunk’s final terrifying moments on earth? As I watched him panic his eyes running from my face, down to my little man, and back up again. He looks right into my eyes ever so briefly as if in disbelief or as if looking for any trace of humanity.  My cock squirts a little as an outcome, but my eyes remain quiet, and offer him nothing.

 

 

 

Then he appears to move onto the next stage; anger. Okay, that just means it’s time for the next scene.“Ou goody, one of my favorites!” I walk over to him, hand on my little mister still, and calmly sit on Ray’s firm thrashing chest. I peer down into his narrow eyes, right hand still on my meat, other hand rubbing his left shoulder.

 

 

 

“I know you’ve dreamed about being the man in this scenario, but too bad for you, you’re gonna be the bitch instead. 2 things are gonna happen to you today RayRay,” I begin to an angry set of eyes, and muffled protests. “One thing is I’m gonna fuck the living shit out of you.” I’m talking slowly now because I want him to understand, and I need him to panic frantically, because I know that’s what gets us to the next scene. I’m gonna blow a load so hard in you it’s gonna feel like Nine Eleven in your guts. And the other thing that’s gonna happen to you today is you’re going to have your throat cut, and die… With this.” Using my left hand, I flash him the butter knife I’d put between the mattress and box-spring earlier in the afternoon. Then, after I got that erotic look of fear I’d been waiting for, I put the knife down and move my hand back to his left pec, and watch and listen as his angry muffles turn to desperate muffled pleas. Which cause my little mister such joy he threw up a glob of goo that shot right into Ray’s tearful eyes.

 

 

 

Mind you, I speak to Ray sympathetically all the while. Almost as if I’m sad for him, and I really think I am. “You’re going to bleed out, Ray. You are going to die today. These are irrefutable facts, Ray. I want you to understand that you are not my first vic. You are one of 100s. There have been many, many hotties who’ve come and gone before you. So you won’t, no matter how hard you try, you will not get out of this alive.” “Hey, that rhymed!

 

 

 

“I’ve seen it a million times, RayRay. There have been many before you who fought their hardest, tried their damnedest to break free, but who inevitably died thrashing and thrusting against my massive boner, looking into my eyes while they took the seed from my loaded wood. You are going to die, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. See the size of my meat? See the size of this bad boy right now? That’s you doin’ that, man. It’s gonna be your responsibility to take care of that for me. Alright? So here’s what you’ve gotta do.”

 

 

 

“You’ve got a choice to make,” I continue melodramatically. “You have 3 options. Option 1; I cut your throat now and fuck you after you’re dead, Option 2; I fuck you, you take my sperm, and then I cut your throat, or option 3; I do both simultaneously. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘I lose in all those scenarios’,” I mimic past vix whimpers.

 

 

 

“But I’m gonna tell ya the pros and cons of your choices. If I fuck you first, yeah it’ll hurt like hell, but at least it’ll give you a few extra minutes to live.” I look down at the head of my dripping cock. “Well, if that. Or If I kill you first, at least  your last memory of life on earth won’t be of yourself being like a little girl getting plowed into by a guy’s slab of juicing meat. Or 3 I do ‘em both at the same time. At least then the pain in your ass will take away from some of the pain you’ll be feeling in your throat.”

 

 

 

He is crying so hard he’s got snot pouring from his nostrils and tears forming puddles in his ear beds. I realize he’s almost out of time before he indirectly causes his own death by drowning in a pool of his own misfortune. My cock is so ready for this, I’m gonna jump to it quickly, whatever option he selects. I leave the comfort of his warm body so that I can stand above him as I continue.

 

 

 

“Now I know you’ve gotten yourself into a situation that prevents you from using your words so I’ve taken the liberty to draw out your choice of fate on these 3 flashcards. Look them all over,” I say as I squat and begin laying out the flashcards on the floor underneath him. I continue “then, after 30 seconds whatever one you want me to do first I want you to keep focused on that flashcard, don’t take your eyes off it, and that’s the one you’ll get, okay? I’ll leave ya to it, bub.”

 

 

 

From the floor I hoist myself up and walk over toward the bed, and to Ray’s shock, lift and rotate the bed so that he’s facing the flashcards on the floor. Oh did I not mention that I built an entire torture bed capable of pretty much anything, up to and including 360-degree rotation? The only thing keeping him from falling to the floor right now are his 4 otherwise helpless limbs, which are still cuffed to the bed posts. His panicked, muffled pleas have increased 10fold by now. I’m sure he’s in a lot of pain given that his limbs are the only points of support for the weight of his entire toned body. He’s losing his sanity, I can tell. The unholy sounds he’s making now are high pitched screeches that I honestly believe would sound exactly the same if I removed the tape from his mouth. “30-seconds on the clock RayRay,” I say as I remove the mattress from the bed. Now there’s nothing between Ray’s ass and my little mister should I get to fuck him first.

 

 

 

30-seconds have passed so I bend down onto Ray to get a glimpse into the mirror I’d placed on the floor in front of him to see what his decision had been. “Oh fuck yeah RayRay.” I say as I thrust my patient little guy up into his tight quivering hole, unlubed. Ray lets out an unholy muffled shriek of pain. “God, I’m gonna love this. Oh fuck dude, you’re so tight. Mmm. It never fails RayRay,” I say as I use his asshole to massage my engorged member.  They always choose the same one, because they think for some reason after I cum I might feel differently and let them go.” He’s crying so hard, and aside from his high-pitched screeches, so manly that my cock spits precum hard into Ray’s quivering hole.

 

 

 

“Told you I’ve seen it all RayRay. Why didn’t you listen? I’m glad you didn’t, because you’re gonna make me cum. Oh fuck! Fuck yeah. Oh I’m gonna cum!” I let go of my cock-gate, and seems like it lasts several heavenly seconds of pure ecstasy in my shaft as my seamen take their time detaching from my body, and speeding away from my body in a swift heavenly rush filled with the heat of a thousand rotting soldier corpses lining a war-zone dugout. I’m in unison with my little mister that by the time I say “cum” I’ve shot my first nut simultaneously into Ray, who retaliates by shoving my little guy with his ass. 

 

 

 

Arching my back in pure pleasure I lay my forehead down on his squirming back as my next nut shoots out with the same pleasurable force. “Milk me, stud!” I hear something snap as my body digs into his angry tight hole. I assume it’s one of his limbs, but I’m busting my nut into him so hard that I couldn’t care less.

 

 

 

Then, sometime after I hear the snap, I swiftly reach over and grab my butter knife and plunge it into his caught-off-guard neck with tumultuous force. Had to be a lot of force, it was a butter knife after all. I love it when the vix get the knife while I’m still in them. It always makes their butt holes grip tightly around my milky shaft. And with every painful, jagged push of my knife Ray’s tight little boy hole grips my ever enormous, milk factory, which was pretty empty by now.

 

 

 

Finally, I know my knife has protruded into his windpipe because his muffled cries reach air in 1 solid burst, his screams of terror and pain have now turn into gargling delight on my dick. Followed by labored grunts. As he struggles to take his last few mortal breaths in pure agony, I remove the duct tape from his mouth. The last of my seed has been implanted into this hot little fucker, and I fall asleep swirling my fingers around the gash in his neck. “Mmm, the pain my fingers must be causing him right now, mmmm.” Unfortunate little shit doesn’t get the girl, lives his whole life feeling less than, gets a massive 9-inch cock slammed into him, a knife to the throat, and now his murderer is making his last few moments of reality excruciating while his captor has one of the best nuts in his life. Those are my last thoughts as I drift off into La La Land with the pleasure of knowing that I’d be jacking off to this video for years and years to come.