I really really don't want to start on the Tanglord case, he told himself, but the only way out of that would be to...
He loosened his tie, realized he was taking it off altogether, but kept right on stripping -- easing his broad shoulders and thick arms out of his shirt, sliding his trousers down his narrow hips and solidly muscled legs, shedding underwear and letting his long, thick shaft stand erect, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks. When his splendid physique -- partly good genes, partly hours of workouts at the gym -- was naked, he settled into his chair again and scowled down at his shaft. Already rock-hard, it seemed to be getting even harder, with a pressure down in the roots that would take more than an ejaculation to relieve, as if it were hungry for -- for what?
Lance reached for the intercom. "Alex?"
"Sir?"
"Got a minute?"
"Be right there."
And a few seconds later, Lance saw his 20-year-old assistant step into Lance's cubicle. "Alex," Lance said before his blond assistant could react to Lance's nudity, "Instead of starting on that Tanglord case, I'm quitting early today."
"Sir, it looks like you're quitting -- altogether."
Lance suddenly realized that he was doing exactly that. "Well yes, Alex; I am.
"I've been getting--" Alex patted an obvious bulge in the front of his own trousers. "--kind of -- you know, too."
"Already hard and trying to get harder?"
Alex nodded.
"That's what mine feels like too." Lance licked his lips, then said, "The Tanglord case..."
"We could turn it over to Oscar in Client Services."
Lance shook his head. "It'd serve him right, but he and the twins, Danny and Dave, quit this morning. You could..."
Alex shook his head firmly and began shedding his own clothes. "No way, sir. I don't want to touch that case any more than you do. I'd rather go with you and -- uh -- how do you want to -- you know -- end it, anyway?"
"The building management has a place set up at the freight entrance, out back. How about you?"
"I want to go with you, sir." Alex pulled off the last of his clothes.
Lance studied the body of his now-naked assistant: in contrast to Lance's own powerfully muscled physique, Alex had the build of a young, blond gymnast. "You certainly look ready." They both glanced down at Alex's shaft -- as long and thick as Lance's own, and just as eagerly erect, as if..."
"It's -- I've been ready ever since I got up this morning, and it's stayed this hard all day, even though I took myself off by hand twice. There were a few naked people on the subway, and about a dozen more stripped when they saw the first ones. They could tell I was -- interestd -- and they invited me to join them -- they were heading for one of the termination sites downtown, but--"
"You came in to work anyway." Lance gave his own hard prong a squeeze. "I'm -- I'm really glad you want to join me. So -- let's go." Lance left the cubicle and headed down the aisle with Alex right behind him, their stiff prongs a- jiggle as they strode along. He paused at the water cooler to wet his suddenly dry mouth as a knot of office workers gossiping there glanced enviously at Lance's and Alex's naked bodies.
Martin, the office clown, cupped Lance's balls in one hand, Alex's in the other, and said, "Behold: a matched set, just like the now-departed twins, Dave and Danny."
Lance felt his own face go warm. He glanced at Alex; the blond was blushing, but he was trying to suppress a grin.
Gene patted them both on their butts, then squeezed their prongs. "Rock-hard and ready; you should have come to last week's office party looking just like that."
And suddenly, Lance was out the office door, strolling to the elevator, and waiting with Alex for it to arrive. There were a couple of naked, hard-cocked men already aboard: Bill somebody from the big office on the fourteenth floor and one of his clients. Three more naked men from another firm boarded on the fifth floor. On the way down and then in the building's lobby, they told each other how they planned to be finished off: Bill had accepted an invitation to be cooked and eaten with his client at a new specialty restaurant on Eighth Avenue, while the other three were off to Central Park to check out whatever new and interesting ways to be terminated had been set up there.
"Want to go with them?" Lance asked.
"Rather stick with you."
"Okay, then." Lance led Alex through the lobby's back door and into the maintenance office.
"Ah -- you're just in time, Mr. Rupert," said Patrick, the solidly built maintenance supervisor. He wore nothing but work boots, a tool belt, and a baseball cap -- all of which somehow emphasized his nudity -- and his lusty erection.
"Just -- just call me Lance."
Patrick nodded. "I've seen the youngster with you around but--"
"This is Alex," said Lance, as the two shook hands. "He -- he wants to do whatever I do.
"Well, I've got these three studs all ready t' finish off." Patrick gestured: Lance saw three naked men, Oscar and his twin assistants, sitting on a bench.
"-- and we've not only been castrated," Oscar said, getting a bit shakily to his feet, "but Pete's bored out holes in our crotches so we can be properly fucked. Now that you're here--"
"And Vince gets back with -- ah, there he is," said Patrick as a sturdy youth in his late teens trotted into the room, carrying a big bundle of towels. Lance saw that Vince, like Pete, was naked but for boots and tool belt, and as stiff-cocked as his boss.
Vince unfolded towels onto the floor while Pete explained: "Here's the drill: these three studs are all ready t' git fucked." He waved at Oscar and his two freshly castrated assistants who were lying down on the towels. "And you two--" He waved at Lance and Alex. "--and me, we're all ready t' fuck them. So -- let's climb on and start fucking while Vince gets ready for whoever comes in next."
Lance exchanged glances with Alex. Patrick knelt between the thighs of one the young assistants, probed with his shaft, and eased it into the bleeding opening in the freshly castrated youth's crotch. Oscar spread his thighs invitingly; Lance watched as Alex knelt, probed, and slid himself deep into Oscar.
"You're Dave?" Lance asked as he eased his long shaft into Oscar's other assistant.
"No, I'm Danny."
"Are you okay?" asked Lance, stopping half-way in.
"Yeah. It -- it feels a bit funny, especially with your prong filling up that fresh hole, going deep into me. but -- yeah, I'm okay. This is going to be a real fuck, stud."
Lance pulled back, slid all the way in again, and felt warm liquid gush out of Danny and onto his balls. "You're not--"
"Coming again?" Danny laughed. "Hardly; that's just blood. But I might -- the stud I fucked managed to do something while I was fucking him. Only problem is, I don't have any muscles in that hole, so I can't tighten myself around you the way I'd like to."
"But on the other hand, this is a more comfortable angle going into you than spiking your ass hole would be." Lance fucked for a moment, savoring the feel of a strong, young body squirming under his impaling thrusts. He turned his head to glance at Alex humping Oscar, then looked the other way to watch Patrick eagerly fucking Dave, Oscar's other young assistant. Six naked bodies squirming on the floor; six naked studs, fucking up a storm, Lance told himself, then asked aloud, "Does -- does it hurt, getting fucked like this?"
"Would you stop fucking me if I tell you it does?"
"I -- I don't know. I mean, you look like you're enjoying it, and you're pushing up against me when I go in deep, like -- like you're enjoying it; but -- but mostly I'm wondering--"
"What it'll be like when you're the one getting fucked?" asked Danny.
"Well, yes. Mostly that." Lance kept fucking. "I mean -- Hell, I don't know what I mean. The way I feel now..."
"I know, I know. And yes, it does hurt, but it's the kind of hurt that you want more of, the kind of hurt that is really turning me on, even though I don't have much left to get turned on."
"Yeah!" Lance grinned, tightened his arms around Danny's chest, and accelerated his stroke.
Lance saw Alex look down at Oscar and raise an eyebrow.
Oscar grinned -- a tense grin, but definitely a grin. "Likewise for me. And -- and for you, once--"
"-- somebody starts fucking me like -- like I'm fucking you now?" asked Alex.
"You'll be really lucky if you find a hunk as good- looking and well-hung as you are when it's your turn," said Oscar.
Lance felt the presssure in the roots of his own prong reach a peak, then release a jet of semen, then another. He pulled back, thrust, and pumped more semen into Danny. He got out one more squirt, caught his breath for a moemnt, then -- since his shaft was as hard as ever and aching hungrily for more -- he resumed his fuck, accelerating gradually up to full speed again.
And with every thrust, he pumped more blood out of Danny's naked body. Lance kept on fucking, on and on, now and again shooting ever smaller squirts of his own juices deep into the muscular body under him. Gradually, Danny relaxed. Lance squeezed out a few more drops and squirted them into Danny, was rewarded with a weak grin as Danny's breath slowed, then stopped.
Lance unplugged himself and got to his feet. Patrick was getting up too; Alex was still fucking briskly, but by the time Lance had wiped himself clean of Danny's blood, Alex was climbing off a now-motionless Oscar.
Patrick and Vince picked up Davy; Lance and Alex, Danny. They laid the limp bodies onto a pickup truck parked out back, and then all four carried Oscar there. Back in the maintenance office, Vince picked up a plastic bottle.
"Lighter fluid," he explained. He squirted Alex's pubic hair and balls, then Lance's. "Now--" Vince picked up a matchbox, lit a match, and touched it to Lance's balls.
Flames flared up, reducing Lance's pubic brush and ball hair to ash. Alex leveled his shaft and poked it into the flames; his crotch hair flared up and burned away too.
"And while we're at it..." Vince doused his own crotch with lighter fluid. Then, as Patrick pointed at his own shaft, Vince squirted Patrick's crotch too. A moment later, both were in flames; a moment after that, their crotches and balls were hairless too.
Patrick pointed at a glass-topped box sitting in the middle of a backless bench. A sturdy hose connected the box to a pipe in one corner of the office. "Steam cooker," said Patrick. "Vince came up with the idea, and a couple of his buddies put it together. They were the first to use it, too. Two studs -- you two, f' instance -- go sit at opp'sit ends of that there bench. Stick yer works inside the cooker -- that's it," he said as Lance straddled one end of the bench, hitched himself forward, and eased his rigid prong and then his balls into the box. A moment later, Alex slid his prong and tucked his balls into the other end.
Patrck closed the box and latched it tight. Vince turned a valve. Steam hissed. The inside of the box clouded, then cleared as Lance felt moist heat surround his virile organs.
Vince explained: "The trick's to cook your prongs nice and slow -- otherwise that sheath under the skin of your prongs will come out real tough. This way -- well, you'll see."
Alex asked, "Your buddies...?"
"Came out nice and tender. Roasted cocks -- even when they're roasted while they're still attached to a live body -- they'll come out nowheres near that good. It's just that steaming don't hurt as much as roasting or flaming does."
"Flaming?" asked Alex.
"You paint your cock with pine-pitch, or maybe something like napalm, only a kind that doesn't burn as hot. If you use real napalm, you come out like a cinder."
"Urk," said Alex, looking pale.
"Come on, kid," said Lance. "Here we are, cooking our prong and balls, and you get upset when Vince here is just describing--"
"It's just that..." Alex patted the glass top of the steamer. "I don't know -- it's -- I know what getting steam-cooked feels like, but those other things--"
"But you went and stuck yourself in the steamer just now without--"
"Well, actually, I -- remember Timmy?"
"The kid in the mail room? Real bouncy, always cheerful?"
"That was a bit of an act. Anyway, day before yesterday, he got hit with one of his gloomy spells, and rather'n faking it, like he usually does -- well, did -- anyway, when his cock came up and stayed hard, he asked me to come down here with him during the morning coffee break, just to keep him company, not -- you know -- to go all the way with him. And -- like he said, steaming's a pretty good way to go; it's not over real quick, but it goes on and on and on, and -- and even after shooting my load into Oscar I don't know how many times, this heat -- feeling myself starting to cook--"
"Yeah -- me too!" Lance felt the roots of his prong tighten up, tighten even tenser, then pump out a long shot of cream that splashed Alex's prong just as Alex squirted out a load of his own onto Lance's.
"Anyway," said Alex after catching his breath, "getting cooked like this is a real turn on. I suppose roasting could be too, but you just don't have as much time to enjoy it. As for flaming -- well, that trick with the lighter fluid is as far as I go, and that was over so quick..."
From there, conversation wandered as Lance felt that moist heat sink ever deeper into his shaft and into his balls, felt them gradually go numb as they cooked.
Alex mentioned the theory that the sudden popularity of erotic, painful suicides was just a result of too many people in too small a space, and what happened on the West Side was just an excuse -- almost anything could have set off the ongoing wave of suicides. Patrick blamed too many horror films, especially the porno-snuff ones. Lance wistfully suggested some kind of pollution -- if anyone could prove that, think of the litigation -- and the fees for lawyers who managed to climb aboard that train. And Vince argued that they're just now discovering how good people are to eat, and they've been hearing how much fun suiciding can be...
Eventually, a timer buzzed. Vince opened the steamer. Lance saw a puff of steam, smelled freshly cooked meat with a musky touch, and felt his mouth water.
"Uh -- how...?"
"Well," said Patrick, "you can take a knife and fork and lop off bite-sized pieces. You could just run your works into a meat-grinder, but most studs who go for that route grind their sex-meat when it's raw and still attached to them. Or you can pair up with a buddy and just bite in and start eating -- either taking turns or going at each other at the same time. I had six guys in, couple days ago -- roasted them over a gas grill that we had on hand -- roasted 'em real slow. After they were cooked, they got in a daisy- chain, right here on the floor."
Lance looked at Alex; Alex looked back.
"What's your pleasure, kid?"
Alex frowned down at his freshly cooked prong, then met Lance's gaze. "How -- how about just -- you know -- biting into each other? Taking turns, maybe, so we can watch ourselves being eaten, and then..."
"Fine by me. On the floor?" Lance stretched himself out on the carpet; Alex stretched himself out alongside so that their bodies lay parallel, their heads pointing in opposite directions. "Okay? Then -- help yourself."
Alex twisted his head and shoulders toward Lance's hips. And as Lance watched, Alex lowered his head onto Lance's waiting, still-rigid shaft, took Lance's glans between his teeth, and bit down hard.
A moment later, Lance's prong was an inch shorter, Alex was pulling back, and Lance was clamping his teeth onto Alex's glans, carefully bitng it free. He found Alex's glans tender, juicy, almost spongy; the sheath on the shaft itself, harder chewing; and the erectile tissue under that, comfortably chewable. And there was an odd but familiar taste--
"I just realized," said Lance. "You flavored my prong with your cream, and I flavored yours with mine."
Alex chewed for a moment, then swallowed. "Ah -- that's it. I suppose we could of left our prongs bloody from fucking Oscar and Danny."
"Prongs, up hard, are mostly blood, anyway," said Lance, so..."
Then -- bite by bite, they gradually ate each other down to the mid-points of their prongs.
Alex suggested, "Sixty-nine each other for a couple of bites?"
"Sure." Lance lay on his side, facing Alex. Alex bit into Lance's shaft, severed a chunk while Lance severed a chunk of Alex's. Both lay back, chewing; raised their heads; and -- still chewing -- grinned at each other. They tool another simultaneous bite of each other, chewed, swallowed. And from there, they took turns again until they had eaten each other right down to the balls.
"I coud actually feel you eating me, that last bite," said Alex.
"Me too," said Lance. "If there were just some way that we could tenderize our prongs' sheaths without hurting the nerves, so we could feel ourselves being eaten."
Vince spoke up: "Well, you could of used a meat- grinder -- let it grind up your prongs raw, but--"
"Not the same thing," said Alex. "Maybe eat a guy's balls raw, and then steam his prong?"
"Now you come up with that idea," said Lance, trying to look unhappy, but then breaking into a chuckle. "Okay, then; ready for some steamed balls?"
"Sure. Want to swap? I could bite off yours, sack and all, and then you can bite off mine, and after that--"
"Actually..." Lance felt himself frown.
"You'd rather eat mine?"
"Well, yes. Somehow, the idea of castrating a hunky- looking stud like you with my own teeth..."
"Okay." Alex lay back and spread his thighs. "Help yourself. And then..."
"You'll castrate me while I watch you do it." Lance switched himself around so that he lay between Alex's thighs, then squirmed into position so that he could touch Alex's ball-bag with his tongue. He licked, licked again, then sucked both balls, bag and all, into his mouth and began to chew.
Alex's balls burst before Lance chewed through their bag; the contents of that bag, once breached, were of an entirely different texture and taste than Alex's shaft -- less chewey, and less bloody, too.
"Yes," said Lance, as he swallowed the last of Alex's gonads, "your balls do taste like oysters. Here -- try mine."
They shifted positions; now Alex's torso lay between Lance's thighs; now Alex was looking down at Lance's balls, lowering his head onto them, opening his mouth wide.. .
Lance watched his balls disappear into his naked, blond assistant's mouth, felt a tugging at his crotch where cooked skin met uncooked. He heard a contented "Mmmmmm" from the Alex as he ate Lance's balls, saw Alex's jaw muscles bulge, relax, and bulge again as he chewed. Lance sucked in a deep breath, felt his muscles tighten, put both hands on Alex's blond head. Somehow -- somehow, he was about to shoot more sperm, even though he had but the stump of a shaft to shoot it with -- and then he did, with a shudder and a gasp and a muscular spasm that took him, took him harder, and finally left him panting for breath.
"That really got you going," Alex mumbled around a mouthful of Lance.
"Sure did." Lance watched Alex chew, swallow, chew some more, and finally finish Lance's balls.
Alex caught his breath for a moment, then nibbled on the half-cooked stump of Lance's prong. Then Alex looked up and licked his bloody lips. "I thought so -- you did come again while I was eating your balls."
"Damn right I did," said Lance. "You're a talented cock-eater, kid. I just wish..."
"Yeah? So do I. but..." The blond youth scrambled to hsi feet. "Now what? We get holes bored where our cocks used to be, and then we get fucked?"
"You got it," said Vince, patting a two-foot-high wooden framework with a saddle-shaped top. "Sit here -- that's it, Lance. Tilt your hips forward a bit -- more -- that's it. Now hold that position while..."
Vince slid a electrically powered drill up through the wooden framework. Lance saw the tip of the drill-bit, easily an inch and an half wide -- touch the bleeding remnant of his shaft. "Okay, now," said Vince, "hold still while I--" and the rest of his sentence was lost in the growl of the drill's motor. Fascinated, Lance watched bloody bits of himself erupt from the sides of the drill-bit as it dug into his crotch. Pain, cutting pain, radiated into Lance's guts as the drill bored deeper -- deeper -- until the pain was shoved aside by an erotic surge from something the drill hit inside Lance's body. And a moment later, the motor growled down to a stop and Vince pulled out the drill.
"That really hit something inside me," said Lance when Alex took Lance's place on the saddle-shaped top of the framework.
"Your prostate," said Vince as Patrick got Alex into position. "That's why we're using this jig -- so the drill goes in just right -- don't want to miss your prostate by too far, and sure don't want to dig out the whole thing. This way -- well, you'll see." Vince turned back to Alex, turned on the drill's motor, and started boring a hole where the blond's shaft had recently stood.
A couple of moments later, Alex got to his feet, saying, "I'm glad you went first so I could hear what was going to happen."
"Didn't you and Timmy--?"
"I had to cut out before he got this far; you needed help on that project you turned in today. This time, though..."
"Yeah. Well, right now, I'm getting real horny all over again, like I need fuck -- or get fucked." Lance turned to Patrick. "Uh -- where do you want to -- to take us?"
Vince pointed to the towels -- fresh towels now, Lance noticed -- where Lance, Alex, and Patrick had fucked Danny, Olaf, and Dave. Lance lay down on his back; Alex stretched his naked body alongside. Lance spread his thighs, caught Vince's attention, and said, "Come on, kid; climb on and ram yourself in."
"Here I come," said the sturdy teenager. He knelt, lowered his torso onto Lance's, and deftly speared the bloody opening with his stiff prong. "You okay?"
"Sure am," said Lance. "You go in just right -- like Danny said, when I was fucking him, I can't squeeze down on your cock, but you're hitting things inside just fucking perfect."
Lance turned his head just in time to watch Patrick climb onto -- and slide into -- Alex's naked body. He glanced up and saw that Vince was watching Patrick and Alex too. Vince looked down, reddened, then said, "Yeah, yeah, I know: I'm plugged into a real muscle stud, but I can't help checking out -- you know -- what else is going on."
"I don't blame you -- Alex is a good-looking stud. So is Patrick. And watching them together--"
"-- while I'm plugged into and starting to fuck the real muscle-stud here--"
"-- and I'm getting fucked by a youg stud with a big, long cock, yeah!" Lance locked his legs around Vince's narrow hips, wrapped his arms around the sturdy teenager's chest, locking their naked bodies together as Vince pulled back, drove himself in deep, pulled back ... and on into a powerful, impaling beat. "and -- inside -- inside, you're hitting things just right -- turning me on while you're pumping out my blood, turning me on with--" Lance saw motion off to one side, turned his head. "Gene! What are you doing here?"
"It's that damned Tanglord case," Gene said. He was fully dressed -- coat, tie, brief-case, young assistant, and all.
"The boss just gave you that turkey?"
"Sure did. Now, what I don't understand--"
"You've already noticed that none of that case makes any sense at all?"
"Sir, that's the whole point," said Alex, as he wriggled under Patrick's thrusts. "It doesn't make sense, not one bit. Lance -- Mr. Rupert, that is -- anyway, Lance tried to give the case to me, but I didn't want it either, so we both quit. Now, we're both enjoying a nice, long fuck."
"Then you're both...?" Gene's voice trailed off.
Lance took up the story. "We helped Patrick fuck Oscar and Danny and Dave after they cooked and ate their balls and prongs. Then we steamed ours -- that's really the way to go -- and ate them. Now -- we're getting fucked one last time."
"I can see that," said Gene's assistant. "Every time one of you guys on top rams his prong in, blood squirts out."
"And all that doesn't hurt?" asked Gene.
"It hurts -- sure it hurts," panted Alex, now meeting every thrust of Patrick's shaft with a wiggle of his own, "but the pain is turning me -- turning both of us on. I -- both of us shot our loads while were were being cooked and again when we were eating each other."
Gene turned to his assistant. "Steve?"
"Sir, these guys have the right idea. 'Stead of mucking around with that Tanglord mess--" He paused to shed coat, tie, shirt, and pants. "--let's quit now and find out for ourselves--" Steve finished stripping, revealing lean, well-defined muscles and a rigid shaft. "--if what these cock-eating guys are doing is as much fun as it looks like it is."
Gene stood motionless for a moment, then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to his naked assistant. "Steve, call Martin and tell him we're both quitting." Then Gene began to strip.
Now Lance was dividing his attention among watching Alex being fucked by Patrick, feeling Vince's warm, strong body lying on Lance's own, feeling Vince's shaft thrusting deep into Lance's squirming body, and watching Gene and Steve progress from mutual manual exploration of their naked bodies to oral excitation of their throbbing shafts.
"Sir," panted Alex.
"Yes?"
"I -- I feel like I'm getting turned on all over again, but--"
"Don't sweat it -- Alex, is it?" asked Vince, without slowing his stroke. "As long as you've got a working prostate gland, you can still unload your juices, even if you can't squirt anything out."
"Then -- then I'm not going crazy, because I'm -- almost -- there!" Lance saw his naked assistant thrust his hips up against Patrick's next impaling stroke, lock their muscular bodies together for a long moment, then relax with a blissful sigh. A few more strokes of Vince's shaft brought Lance to the brink, then over that brink as he tried to impale himself even deeper, as he felt the familiar release of hot juices deep inside his body, deep inside where Vince's shaft was sliding in and out, in and out, in and out...
Slowly, very slowly, Lance let his muscles relax, let himself go limp, let his eyes close, let himself slip away...