Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission.
Danny took a deep breath, struggled with his bonds again, then relaxed and looked down at his naked, taut-muscled body. He sat astride a rough-hewn bench anchored to the South American jungle floor, wrists tied behind his butt, ankles tied under the bench. Danny's rigid prong, instead of curving up sharply as it usually did when hard, jutted out parallel with the bench, the tip lashed to a stick that sloped down to the bench itself.
The blond teen raised his head slowly, his gaze following the bench. His cousin Ellen sat astride the far end, facing him, tied in place the same way, her body as naked as his own. Half- way between Danny and Ellen another bench lay on and at right angles to their bench.
Danny glanced to his left, at a third bench that ran parallel to his and Ellen's. His older brother, Pete, sat astride that bench just an arm's-length away. Like Danny, Pete was bound in place; like Danny, Pete was naked, well-muscled, and stiff- pronged. Rita -- their native guide -- sat astride the far end of Pete's bench, her body also naked and bound. Ellen's father, the youths' Uncle Jim -- also naked, bound, and hard-cocked -- sat astride the left end of the bench that crossed Danny's and Pete's benches. Danny studied his uncle's physique for a moment; more heavily muscled than his nephews', but those muscles less sharply defined than Pete's and Danny's.
Danny's gaze slid along his uncle's bench to its right end, buried in a pile of freshly turned earth. He glanced at Ellen, felt a surge in his prong as he studied her full, firm breasts, then looked down at the pottery cylinder, the size and shape of a bottomless drinking glass, which held wide the lips of her vagina. Rita, he saw, had been fitted with a cylinder just like Ellen's.
Glancing to his left, Danny saw his brother -- blond like Danny himself -- strain against his bonds, then relax with a growl. Danny squirmed too, feeling rough wood between his thighs. He saw that a stick, tied to Pete's glans, sloped down to the bench in front of him; another stick ran from the tip of Uncle Jim's rigid shaft down to his plank. Danny glanced down, comfortably aware that his own shaft was easily an inch longer than either Pete's or Uncle Jim's. Pete, though, had the thickest shaft; Uncle Jim, the biggest balls.
"Now what?" Danny asked.
"We wait," said Rita.
"For . . . ?"
"The ants."
"Ants! Then . . ."
Pete said, "Yeah. Big ants. Like the ones the Ant Priest said took care of Jerry and his three pals.
Said Danny, "Yeah. The Ant Priest told us they weren't tied up while the ants ate them, but . . ."
"Ant Priest told truth," said a new voice.
Danny jerked his head around, saw that the Ant Priest, a native youth, just as muscular and naked as Danny, stood behind Pete. "You want eaten like that? Hands free?"
Pete said, "Yeah, sure. But what if . . ."
"You stir up ants with hands, ants bite all over, not just --" The Ant Priest stroked his own stiffening prong. "You drinked -- drank drank hard-on juice. It make pain not too bad."
"I got it. I promise won't stir 'em up," said Danny. "You can untie my hands."
And the Ant Priest promptly did.
"Mine too," Pete said, while Danny shook the stiffness out of his own arms. The Ant Priest released Pete's hands, then Uncle Jim's and the two women's when they asked to be untied too.
Moments later, Danny heard a rustle off to his right, looked, and saw a thin stream of ants advance toward the left end of Uncle Jim's plank. He started to reach for his outthrust shaft, pulled back, and slid his hands over his bare, sweat-slick chest. And as Danny watched the ants scurry along the plank, heading for Uncle Jim's waiting shaft and balls, he remembered the orgy with the Ant Priest and Priestess:
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Priest and Priestess, both naked and -- ready, had met Danny and the others just outside the natives' village. The Ant Priest had offered the visitors a jar of -- of something at once bitter and sweet. And, within moments of drinking some, Danny's prong stiffened into a powerful hard-on. Uncle Jim, Pete, and Danny glanced at each other, then began to strip, baring three rigid, throbbing prongs. After a moment, Rita and Ellen stripped too.
The Ant Priestess stretched herself out on the ground. Pete eagerly impaled her on his thick prong. Ellen laid down beside the Priestess and invited the Ant Priest to climb on while Uncle Jim mounted Rita.
Danny, feeling left out for a moment, leaned down and patted the Ant Priest's bobbing butt. The Ant Priest slowed his stroke, looked up at Danny, and nodded. Danny knelt astride the Ant Priest's thighs and slid his prong into the Ant Priest's butt, then lowered himself onto the naked Priest's back.
"It's not really incest," Danny said, looking over the Priest's shoulder at Ellen as the Ant Priest's lean hips began to pump again, "since we've got this stud sandwiched between us."
"Yeah -- how is he, anyway?" she asked.
"Nice, hard body, and he's tighter than any of the girls I've humped back in the States -- how's he taking care of you?"
"He goes in deep, and he really knows how to use it."
The Ant Priest chuckled, looked back over his shoulder at Danny, and -- without missing a stroke, said, "You in deep too."
Danny had laughed. "Y' oughta try Pete next; his cock won't go in as deep as mine, but his is thicker."
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The memory faded into present reality as Danny saw Pete, as if reading Danny's mind, turn to the Ant Priest and say, "I never did get to prong your butt."
"Can't have everything," said the Ant Priest, and grinned broadly.
Danny said, "Yeah, but you did get to ride the Ant Priestess -- how was she?"
Pete touched his rigid shaft, then moved his hands to his thighs. "I filled her up okay -- and she was having as much fun as I was -- maybe more."
All six -- the ant priest and his five captives -- fell silent, watching the ants climb the stick to the tip of Uncle Jim's shaft. Once there, the ants milled around for a moment. As Danny and the others stared, an ant bit into Jim's glans. One by one the other ants began eating him alive too. Danny glanced at Pete's bench and saw that streams of ants were also advancing toward Pete and Rita.
Danny broke the silence: "If it weren't for getting -- eaten like this, I would of been able to out-wrestle you within a year."
"Yeah?" said Pete. "And now that we're getting eaten instead -- yeah, the ants'll be working that long cock of yours well after they've finished eating mine and Uncle Jim's."
"That means I get to keep my balls that much longer." Danny turned to Rita, watched the ants march into her pottery cylinder, saw her begin to squirm. A moment later, ants climbed up the stick that led to Pete's rigid shaft. Fascinated, Danny watched the ants explore his brother's exposed organs shaft. Then -- one by one -- they clamped their jaws onto Pete's glans and began devouring him alive. A few moments after that, Danny saw another stream trickle into Ellen's cylinder.
"Have they started -- eating you?" Danny asked when he saw Ellen squirm.
"Sure have," Ellen panted, her hands stroking her nipples. "Your cocks may be bigger than our clits, but I can sure feel the ants biting into mine -- it's almost a turn on -- getting eaten like this -- well, almost." She squirmed again, looked down, and said, "Now it's your turn, Danny -- they're finally going after you."
"Yeah," said Danny, watching the ants climb onto his own shaft, feeling the tickle of their legs and antennae as the ants explored for a moment. His chest muscles tensed under his fingers as he watched -- and felt -- the ants' jaws cut into his glans.
After a moment, Danny glanced at Uncle Jim, who growled, "And while you kids are arguing about how long our prongs'll last, you might start worrying about what the things'll do to our balls -- starting with mine." Danny watched his uncle's shaft wilt as blood poured from the half-eaten glans. More ants converged on Uncle Jim's balls and began to cut them free.
Pete asked, "How -- how is it -- losing your balls like that, I mean?"
"Not -- not too bad, I think they're -- yes, they are cutting my balls off -- but that sure beats what it'd feel like if they ate them, bite by bite, still attached to me."
A couple of moments later, the ants carried Uncle Jim's severed balls, one by one, along the plank. As the little procession passed Danny, he leaned forward and picked up his uncle's balls by their cords -- with ants still attached. Danny turned to Pete. "Want one?"
Pete shook his head, his attention focused on the ants that were devouring his own virility. Danny shrugged his shoulders, popped one ball into his mouth, ants and all, then the other, and began to chew.
"How do I taste?" asked Uncle Jim.
"You're -- okay," Danny said around a mouthful of warm, bloody balls. "You might taste better fried; but this way, I get to crunch up some of the ants too." He chewed the tender organs, tasted blood and a hint of acid, swallowed. "Nice and fresh, and the ants do add a bit of flavor." He looked down at his own shaft: his glans was melting away as more ants climbed aboard and bit in, eating him alive as he watched.
"My balls sure ought to taste fresh," said Uncle Jim. "They're almost as fresh as they possibly could be."
"Almost?" asked Pete, looking up from the ants that had finished off his glans and were now devouring his shaft.
"Almost," said Ellen. As Danny watched, she squirmed, squirmed harder, then slowly relaxed. "The freshest would be if you hot-pronged studlings went after each other, 69-style, and ate your balls while they're still attached to you."
"Yeah?" said Danny, licking his lips slowly. "That would be -- yeah!" He imagined his own balls being crunched between Pete's teeth, imagined biting into Pete's ball-sack. And as he did, pressure down in the roots of Danny's prong built, came to a boil, erupted suddenly as he pumped out a long spurt of semen through his partly-eaten shaft. His ejaculate carried a half- dozen ants away, but more scurried onto his shaft.
Danny heard Pete gasp, turned, and saw Pete pump his load too.
"You kids shooting again -- already?" asked Uncle Jim.
"Hey, our last fuck was more than an hour ago," said Danny, trying to sound indignant.
"And besides, it's what Ellen said that set us off," said Pete. "He glanced at Danny. "Were you thinking --"
"-- about what I was thinking?" Danny let his hands slide down the hard ripple of his abdominal muscles, touched the base of his prong. "Yeah. Me too." He licked his lips, grinned at Pete, who grinned back.
Danny turned to Ellen. "Cousin, you've got a wicked mind."
Ellen, squirming again, but slowly, grinned back. "What do you expect? After getting to see what you and Pete look like, stripped naked and up hard and ready to go, then watching Pete climb onto, and into, the Ant Priestess. And then -- while the ants work on me -- remembering how the Ant Priest took me, and remembering how he got turned on when you pronged his butt -- and then imagining what it'd be like if me and Rita and the Ant Priestess had finished our fuck by rolling you three guys on your backs and then eating your balls."
For a moment, Danny watched the ants feed on his brother's shaft, then looked further to his left and saw the ants were now boring into his uncle's crotch.
"They're inside, now," Uncle Jim reported, "starting to gut me, eating my prostate, and that feels really weird." He squirmed, his muscles tensing, relaxing, then going taut again. "I'm trying to shoot, and I don't have anything left to shoot with, but I'm going to shoot anyway." He gasped aloud, muscles straining, body rigid, then relaxed with a long sigh. "That was really, really weird."
"Then -- you did?" asked Pete.
"I did. Last time I'll do that, but . . ."
Danny chuckled, then said, "And you were complaining about us being horny?"
"Depends."
"On?" asked Danny.
"On whether you shoot again when you two studs are being gutted."
"Well, we're ahead of you there," said Ellen. "The ants started eating us from the inside, and the more they eat, the weirder it feels."
"Hey, Danny," said Pete, "you still hungry?"
Danny glanced down and saw the ants finish severing Pete's left ball. He watched them half-carry, half-drag it along Pete's bench, up onto Uncle Jim's, and across Danny's. He picked up Pete's ball by its cords, looked at Ellen, and asked, "Want to try one?"
Ellen shuddered, then nodded. Danny leaned forward, passed the ball to her. She studied it for a moment, then cautiously bit the bloody sphere in two, passed one half to Rita, and ate the other.
"Well?" asked Danny. He looked down, watched the ants sever Pete's remaining testicle, then glanced at Ellen again.
"It's -- okay," said Ellen, around a mouthful of Pete, "but it'd be more fun if we'd done it like I said -- you know -- still attached."
Pete said, "And I suppose you'd chew it up -- still attached -- instead of biting it off?"
"How 'bout if you and I were eating each other's balls -- that's what you were thinking of just now, weren't you?" asked Danny.
"I dunno." Pete touched his chest with his left hand. "Probably -- if it hurt too much, chewing on them in place, we could always bite 'em off and then finish 'em off that way. And speaking of which . . ." He gestured downwards. ". . . if you're still hungry . . ."
Danny looked down and saw the ants were dragging away Pete's right ball. "Don't you . . . ?"
"Swap you for one of yours."
"Deal." Danny picked up Pete's right ball and ate it while he watched and felt his own shaft being devoured, bite by bite. When the ants attacked his ball-bag; Danny spread his thighs wider to give them more room to work. Dull pain stabbed up into his guts when the ants bit through his ball-cords. The pain began to fade as the ants pulled his balls free. Danny picked up one, said, "I think this is the biggest one," and handed it to Pete. He picked up the other ball, studied it for a moment, then popped it into his mouth.
Danny and Pete watched each other chew for a moment. They grinned at each other. A moment later, they swallowed. Pete asked, "What's it like, eating your own balls?"
"It's -- it's weird, but eating yours -- and Uncle Jim's -- that's pretty weird too. But eating my own -- that's the real turn-on."
Ellen asked, "Better than that three-way fuck with the Ant guy?"
"Not better -- just more intense, somehow. Anyway --" Danny glanced down at the ants that were boring into the base of his just-eaten shaft. "I'm gonna see if I can shoot another load while they gut me."
"You not worry," said the Ant Priest, strolling over to stand between Pete and Danny. "Ants eat guts only part way. Afterwards, we take you to village, cook you there." He put his right hand on Danny's left shoulder.
"Cook -- alive?" asked Pete.
"And eat. You five make big feast."
"Hey," Danny yelped. "Now I am worried."
"Not worry. Hard-on juice keep pain down while you watch."
"Now I am going to shoot," Pete gasped.
"And so am I." Danny felt his muscles tighten, watched Pete's do the same. Inside, Danny felt the partly eaten organs in his crotch release a gush of juices. He thrust with his hips, thrust again, then relaxed. "Wow!"
Ellen asked, "Getting eaten is a turn-on?"
Danny licked his lips. "I dunno if getting eaten alive is
turn-on, but thinking about it is." He looked up at the Ant- Priest. "Do you cook us whole, like we are now, or what?"
"First, fix you stop blooding -- bleeding, so you can watch what happen next. Doctor we caught years ago, he showed us how."
"And then you --" said Pete.
"We take out guts that ants did not eat, yes. We make fire. Then roast you alive, from waist on down. When finish roasting, we have big feast. Some for you too. Then we take out more guts and roast the rest of you. This part best --" He patted his muscle-sheathed chest.
Danny ran his hand across his own chest muscles, looked up at the Ant Priest, and licked his lips. The Ant Priest smiled back. Danny said, "Maybe you could cook one of us like that first, so the rest of us could check that out."
"If is no one from outside when ants come again," said the Ant Priest, "then --"
"-- you and the Ant Priestess are the ones the village will gut and cook and eat. Meanwhile --" Danny raised his right hand, steadied the Ant Priest's rigid prong, and licked its tip. Danny felt the native try to pull away. "Hey, stud; I'm not going to bite." Danny eased that prong into his mouth, closed his lips on the barrel, and began sucking. And as he sucked, he felt the voracious ants keep on eating him alive, even as the Ant Priest started to respond with a long shot of ball-cream, another, then a couple of short squirts. Danny swallowed it all, sucked for more, and finally licked the ant-priest's shaft clean.
"Well?" asked Danny.
"Wow!" sighed the ant priest. "You suck good and hungry. When you suck, I think you maybe eat me with teeth -- how you say -- start chewing. And thinking that --"
"Really turned you on?" asked Danny, licking his lips. "Want me to --"
"Start chewing?" The ant priest shook his head. "Not -- not now. But if you did start then, I think -- maybe -- yes."
"But now," Pete said, "the ants are still busy gutting us. And when they're full --"
Danny said, "We're off to your village for -- for supper."