"Ewan?" called a voice from the waiting room's door.
"That's me -- how did they -- oh." He felt an emptiness in his stomach as one of the Board's messengers, a well-built, naked, hard-cocked young man of twenty or so, handed him a small suitcase.
"Name and address of the next of kin on the label. Strip, put everything -- watches, jewelry, all your clothes -- everything goes in the bag, and take it to the first window down the hall to the left. Then report for Processing at the door just beyond that."
"Then I didn't . . ."
The messenger shook his head. "No, you didn't pass," he said, his voice sympathetic. "Your school grades are what got you Selected for Disposal. Still, there is a chance -- but not a very big one, that you might be assigned to a job like mine, working for the Selection Board or the Surplus Disposal Administration."
"How many . . . ?" asked Ewan as he began to strip and pack his clothes into the bag.
"Like I said, not many -- maybe a little less than one percent."
"Just enough to get my hopes up and keep me in line," Ewan growled.
The messenger smiled. "Well, there is that. And even if you do get assigned to one of those positions, after a few years on the job --"
"How 'bout you?" Ewan asked.
"Oh, I'll eventually go through Disposal too; we all will. But until then --" His smile hinted at mischief as he stroked his rigid prong. Suddenly all business, the naked messenger said, "All stripped and packed and ready to go? First window down the hall -- on the left -- that way." He pointed; Ewan hurried in the direction the messenger pointed, feeling awfully naked as he trotted along the hall.
A naked youth took Ewan's bag and pointed onwards. Inside the door just beyond, Ewan found a bustle of activity: hard-cocked messengers scurrying about, naked clerks consulting computer screens and working on keyboards, other naked, hard-cocked clerks talking with bewildered-looking, limp-pronged teenagers like Ewan himself.
Within a few minutes, Ewan was told to sit, wait, stand there, wait some more, and finally found himself being appraised by still another naked, hard-cocked young man. "No jobs open right now, so --" The young man licked his lips slowly. "Never worked in a chemical plant? Or on a farm that used anything but the right insecticides?"
Ewan shook his head at each of these questions.
"I think have just the right place to use you -- you are from around here? Know the local transit lines?"
Ewan nodded to these two questions.
"Fine. We'll process you and send you out right away -- take this pill -- here's a cup of water -- there."
Ewan obediently swallowed both.
"Out that door --" The young man pointed. "-- the one marked PREP, and we'll have you on your way within the hour."
* * *
The room beyond the door marked PREP was an oasis of calm. One man with the physique of a teen-aged body-builder like Ewan himself -- and naked and hard-cocked like the rest -- slid a hypodermic syringe into the base of Ewan's shaft, which promptly stiffened in a rock-hard erection.
"Uh -- can you tell me what's this for?" He touched his shaft. "I mean --"
"Well, for one thing, it marks us as having been Selected. That, and being naked makes it awfully hard to sneak off. And for the ones on staff here, well, it makes it handy if we have a spare moment to get together for a quickie during break or back in barracks. In your case --"
"Yes, what am I going to be doing?"
"We started up a new service last month: self delivery. Most of the ones who have been Selected report to the meat-packing plant and get processed there. But ones with really good physiques -- like yours -- now deliver themselves to customers who can use a whole stud -- a family gathering, a barbeque, a block party, things like that."
"Just . . ." Ewan gestured at his naked body.
"There's a bit of processing first. Follow me."
* * *
"Processing" involved Ewan's whole body being shaved, arm-pits, pubis, and all, but leaving the hair on his scalp alone. He was then strapped to a sloping table by his arms and legs, whereupon a couple of naked young men, who introduced themselves as Randy and Pedro, carefully opened Ewan's abdomen with a vertical cut from sternum to pubis -- Ewan was relieved to find that the pain was minimal -- then pulled out his intestines, leaving lungs, heart, kidneys, prostate, bladder, and liver in place.
Pedro said, "I've even put on something to catch what you swallow -- just don't drink too much, because it won't do you a bit of good if you do.
"The tricky part," explained Rocky, "is clamping off just the right veins and arteries and leaving others still connected. Now the really interesting part . . ." He closed the gaping wound with a plastic zipper that was scarcely visible. "If the customer decides to roast you whole, the way some of them do, he -- or she -- can open you up, stuff you, and close you up again. On the other hand, she -- or he -- can use a magnet to close the valves we've put just inside your back, and then roast you alive from the hips on down, after which he or she can put you on a buffet table where you serve out slices of your legs and rump."
"Ready to go," said Pedro, releasing Ewan's restraining straps. "Stand up slowly -- you may be a little dizzy at first -- no? -- fine."
"It -- it feels a bit funny, breathing," said Ewan.
"That's because we've taken out most of what was in your abdominal cavity," explained Rocky. "There's less weight in there now."
"Yeah, I -- I look great. gutted like this," said Ewan, looking down and touching his now-concave abdomen. "Now, where am I supposed to go and how do I get there?"
"Take these sandals -- Pedro handed Ewan a pair of rubbed soled ones. -- and look at this map. Take the Number 5 streetcar to Eastern Avenue, and change to the Number 8 to Shadyside. I'll write the name and address of the people who are going to eat you on the inside of your wrist -- the Whitherings, at 1525 Shadyside Way -- there. Wash it off when you get there."
"What about the fare?"
"The SDA has an arrangement with the local transit company; any studling who's naked with a good, hard erection and looks about your age rides free."
"Yeah? I'd think some studs my age might dare each other into trying for some free rides that way."
"Well, the transit company thinks that might be good for business -- you never know when you'll have a chance to have a naked hunk sitting beside you on a streetcar. Besides, if the transit police do catch an impostor, they'll take him down to the car barn, roast him, and feed him to their employees."
"I dunno -- there are studs I know who'd be all the more likely to try it if the knew that's what they're risking."
* * *
The map showed Ewan that delivering himself to the Whitherings would begin with short streetcar ride to the center of town, a long ride to the outskirts of town, and a two-block walk. The first ride was crowded; Ewan's long, hard prong kept poking into people until an elderly gentleman insisted on giving Ewan his seat, whereupon the young woman sitting next to him gave up her seat too, so Ewan found himself sitting beside the elderly gentleman, who said he hadn't seen a prick that hard in he didn't know how many years. He reached for it, hesitated.
"Go ahead, help yourself," Ewan said.
The elderly gentleman squeezed -- gently, then more firmly.
"It won't take much to -- you know -- set me off," Ewan sighed. "Besides, this is my stop."
The second ride was almost empty, but for a half-dozen eighteen-year-olds. Ewan knew two of them from the neighborhood gym where he worked out; the other four worked out at the Y downtown. They peppered him with so many questions about the Selection Board, the procedures after Selection, and especially the erection shot that was keeping his prong so hard that he almost missed his stop. All six followed him on the walk toward his final destination.
"Look, guys," said Ewan, "How about letting me see what you look like, naked and up hard like me?"
Rodney, a teenager who worked out downtown, said, "Well, my folks are out of town, and our house is just across the street, so we could . . ."
* * *
"Look, guys," said Ewan, after Rodney let them into the garage, "Now let's see how the rest of you studs look, naked and with hard-ons like mine."
Rodney was the first to shed his clothes; after a moment's hesitation, the rest stripped and stiffened up too. Comparing their prongs side by side took a few minutes. Ewan's prong was the stiffest, but in length his was second to Rodney's.
"So," said Rodney, "what's the prize for this contest?"
"Winning this contest really ought to be its own reward," said Ewan, "but since I'm probably going to have to perform when I get to the family that bought me for dinner, I need some practice. I can't take off all of you guys -- there isn't time. I'll suck off Rod here, and then I'll work on whoever's willing to suck me off. Rest of you studs -- since you're already naked and -- you know -- ready, you might as well take care of each other. Okay?"
Rodney dropped to the floor and rolled onto his back. The other teenagers glanced at each other warily, then with increasing enthusiasm as they paired off. Ewan lay down on Rodney's thighs, cautiously licked Rodney's shaft for a moment, then went down on a mouthful of hard, throbbing prong.
"You sure you haven't down this before?" asked Rodney as Ewan started sucking.
Ewan sucked for a few strokes more, raised his head, and said, "I didn't say that. I just said I need some practice. Besides --"
"-- you want to get sucked off too," said Bart, a teenager who worked out at the same gym that Ewan did, as he lay down beside Rodney and Ewan. "Soon as he shoots his load, I'll take yours, and then --"
Ewan raised his head, said, "-- I'll suck you off," and went down on Rodney's shaft again.
Rodney climaxed a few strokes later. Ewan swallowed it all, then rolled on his back and watched himself being sucked off. He came quickly, rolled onto Bart's legs, and went to work on his prong.
Afterwards, after a moment to catch his breath, Ewan waved away Rodney's invitation to stay longer -- the rest planned to continue the orgy for a few hours, but uncoupled long enough to present their prongs for Ewan's inspection -- and then Ewan stepped out the door and headed for his buyers' home.
* * *
At his destination, an imposing mansion, Ewan rang the doorbell and was greeted by a large, fluttery woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Whithering, complimented Ewan on his face, his physique and his prong, complained that she had put in an order for delivery tomorrow instead of today, said she'd keep him anyway, and anxiously asked if he knew a good recipe for roasting someone as well-built as he. Ewan thanked her for the compliments and for letting him deliver himself a day early, apologized for arriving before he was supposed to, and explained that he didn't have the remotest idea how to roast himself for tomorrow's dinner.
The woman's three well-built sons -- one had already passed Selection; the twins were due to go before the Board in three months -- came down to meet tomorrow's entree. Mrs. Whithering departed in search of a cookbook for roast person. Upstairs, the Whithering boys stripped, stiffened up, and inspected Ewan's erection.
The twins decided that it wouldn't be incest if they had Ewan sandwiched between them, so they oiled up Ewan's and their own shafts. All three climbed onto a bed where Ewan eased his shaft into one twin's tight butt. The other twin waited a moment, then climbed onto Ewan's back and sank his own shaft.
As soon as Ewan and the twins were all settled, the oldest, Benjy, presented his prong to be sucked while Ewan was fucking and being fucked by the twins. Half-way through that fuck, the twins uncoupled and exchanged places. All four showered together, and the Whithering brothers dressed for dinner.
Mr. Whithering came home from work soon after that. He immediately sent Benjy off to get some intravenous solution and the necessary accessories to keep Ewan going for an extra day.
Ewan helped the twins serve dinner -- soup, salad, and lamb chops -- and joined the family's conversation at the table -- but took his nourishment intravenously after dinner rather than by mouth during it. Later that evening, Mr. Whithering took Ewan to the den, saying he wanted to inspect the next day's entree.
Ewan was startled to discover that Mr. Whithering conducted his inspection in the nude: he promptly stripped, worked up an impressive erection, then said, "I'd like for you to suck me off first, and then fuck me.
"If I have you fuck me first," Mr. Whithering explained when Ewan started sucking, "I'd probably shoot my load then, rather than into your mouth -- and, by the way, you are really turning me on. I'd ask you to stop but it's too late -- I'm just about to -- and here -- I -- go."
And a few moments later, as Ewan slid himself in, Mr. Whithering said, "Young man, you really go in deep; I almost unloaded again just now."
"You've got a good long shaft yourself, sir. Want me to work on it a bit more after we finish this fuck?"
"I would, but it's getting late," said Mr. Whithering, responding with ever-increasing enthusiasm to Ewan's thrusts. "I've got lots to do tomorrow. You do too, come to think of it. Anyway, you'll be sleeping with my sons."
* * *
When they woke next morning, the twins announced they'd like to try some real incest; they settled down for a quick sixty-nine. Benjy and Ewan watched for a few minutes, then decided to fuck each other. When they paused to keep from climaxing too soon, Benjy confessed he'd changed his mother's order so that Ewan would arrive a day early. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not," said Ewan. "Want me to get on top this time?"
* * *
Dinner was formal. The principal entree, Ewan, still buck naked and hard-cocked but now wearing a black bow tie, was introduced to the guests as they arrived, who complimented him on his well-muscled physique. Many stroked his chest and arms; a few ran their fingers over his prong and balls and complimented him on those too. At a signal from the twins, who had taken over the cooking arrangements from their mother, Ewan retired to the kitchen, where he found a run-through microwave oven the twins borrowed from a neighbor.
The Whithering twins did things with a couple of electromagnets pressed against Ewan's back. Then Ewan -- still wearing the borrowed bow tie -- lay down on the oven's wide, heat-proof belt. The twins turned on the power; the belt began creeping slowly through the double-ended oven, drawing Ewan feet-first through the heating elements, both radiant and microwave. He was pleasantly surprised to find that whatever pain-killing medicine he had received while being Processed was still working. While being cooked alive wasn't exactly comfortable, it hurt far less than he thought it would.
Microwave-roasting Ewan's calves and thighs properly, the twins explained, was relatively easy; the tricky part would be getting his hips, shaft, and balls done just right. He suggested that if they didn't cook him right, either one could volunteer to be cooked and eaten instead. They laughed -- a bit uneasily, he thought -- and concentrated on the controls even more closely.
Heat struck deep into his prong, then gripped his balls -- a throbbing heat, which brought his thick semen out in a long, slow eruption, coating his prong from glans to balls. Moments later, the heat died and the belt reversed, drawing Ewan, now roasted alive from his hips to the soles of his feet, back out of the oven.
The twins, with a bit of help from their older brother, Benjy, transferred Ewan to a wheeled table. One tucked pillows under the tables snowy linen until Ewan was sitting up; the other applied an electric knife to his thighs, lower legs, and rump. Finally, they wheeled table, Ewan, and all from the kitchen into the main dining room to general applause.
Ewan and the twins had set up the room buffet-style. Ewan served the guests, then family with his freshly roasted self, each getting a slab of leg or hips. He also offered a slice of his semen-coated prong, which he cut with a paring knife. Some eagerly accepted slices of prong; others declined with a shudder. He gave one ball to each twin, fed half his glans to Benjy, and ate the rest himself.
"I can't eat more than that: there's no place to put it, but I did want to find out how I taste," he explained, as the Whithering boys and several guests in their late teens or early twenties gathered around him chat, mostly about his experience at the Board, with the Surplus Disposal Administration, and being the dinner's main course. "Getting eaten like this isn't as bad as it looks, especially since I got to find out what it's really like to get roasted alive," Ewan said. "Seeing people come back for seconds and thirds was kind of a turn-on, too. And you'd be amazed how easy sex is beforehand if you're running around naked with a real good hard-on. The big problem is what to say if you run into somebody you know when you're going somewhere to be eaten."
"And did you?"
"Well, yes, I did. Luckily, one of the guys I met on the streetcar had an empty house, so we dropped off there and fooled around for a while. Now, of course . . ." He patted the base of his recently eaten prong. "I can still suck, but that's it."
"Do you like sucking cock -- sorry, I mean, sucking guys' prongs?"
Ewan grinned and licked his lips.
"How 'bout we stick around after the party breaks up?" asked another guest. "If your folks don't mind . . ."
"Well, Mom never really notices what's going on," said one of the twins.
"But as for Dad . . ." said the other twin.
"Your Dad's not a problem either," said Ewan. "Trust me on this one."
* * *
The orgy -- in the basement rec room -- began less than a half-hour later. Ewan -- still wearing the borrowed bow tie, his naked body now ending at the hips -- insisted that everyone else strip to their bow ties as well.
Ewan started things off by sucking Benjy off while the twins distributed stay-hard pills to the audience of young studs. Soon, two teenaged hunks settled down on the couch to fuck, and then another pair coupled on the thick shag rug. The twins persuaded one teenaged friend to join them in a three-way fuck, one twin on the top, the other on the bottom, with the young stud in the middle impaled on both their prongs. A chain of prong-suckers, each one working on the next, zig-zagged across the floor.
* * *
Mr. Whithering did show up -- Ewan saw him peek into the room, withdraw, then return a few minutes later wearing nothing but a bow tie and a rock-hard erection, followed by two male guests his age, also stripped to bow ties and lusty erections. Ewan was sucking off one of these older friends, who had introduced himself as "Mr. Donovan, but call me Brad" when four of the younger guests came up to them.
One of them said, "Uh -- hi, Dad."
Another patted Mr. Donovan on the butt and said, "We -- uh -- we never realized that you -- uh -- swing that way too."
"Too?" asked Mr. Donovan. He glanced at the four stiff-pronged youths. "You all do?"
All four nodded.
"Well, you're sure look well equipped for whatever you've been doing. With each other?"
They glanced at each other. One said, "Not really. I mean, I showed Billy how to jack off when he got old enough, and he showed Tim and Eddie -- and after that, we'd get together in the rec room downstairs and see who could come quickest or shoot farthest, but as far as doing each other . . ." His voice trailed off as all four watched their father reach climax, pump a load of ball-juice into Ewan's mouth, and then let Ewan lick his shaft clean.
Another of the Donovan boys said, "you're pretty well equipped yourself, Dad. You must be -- well, Brad Junior has almost eight inches, and Tim and Eddie are almost as long as he is. And you look -- ever measure yourself?"
"I'm only seven and a half," said Mr. Donovan, but --" He paused to study the young man Ewan decided must be Brad Junior and then the one who had spoken. "-- I think I'm thicker -- more like you, Billy."
"Yeah, I've got a seven-and-a-half-inch weapon like yours, Dad. Anyway, Freddie and Pat from across the street -- they're the ones who -- you know -- we did things with, over at their place. But now that you know about -- uh -- things --"
Brad Junior took up the story: "Well, Freddy got Selected, month before last, and when that happened, Pat Volunteerd to be taken too, so we were wondering if we could invite guys over to our place for -- you know -- things like this." He gestured at the ongoing orgy; by now, Ewan saw, about a third were still going at it while others chatted quietly or rested between rounds.
"Sure," said Mr. Donovan, "just so long as we agree on a few ground rules beforehand."
"Like how many, and how young -- stuff like that?" asked Billy.
"Also how often and how late," said one of the younger Donovan brothers.
Mr. Donovan said, "And what you can drink there."
"That's no problem," said Billy. "None of us drink. Hey -- you know what might be a good way to break the ice when we start -- how 'bout some weight lifting -- see who can pick up the biggest weight hanging from a clamp that you tighten 'round the base of your cock, and once everybody's naked, then we can go at it."
"Oh, is that what happened to the prong-gripper I stashed in my den? The trick is to tighten it just as far as you can possibly stand, so it won't slip down and hurt your balls when you lift weights with it, and then loosen it exactly one quarter turn, no more, so you don't cut off all your circulation down there. I bought it at a S and M shop back when I was your age, and my brothers and I used it when we and some of the guys from the gym had this contest, where we . . ." Ewan lost track of what Mr. Donovan was saying as he and his sons ambled off to a quiet corner to sort things out and -- later -- to pair up with a few of the teen-aged guests for some serious fucking.
* * *
Well past midnight, during a lull in the erotic activity, the twins, their older brother Benjy, Mr. Whithering, and a few others were sitting on the rug with Ewan, who was wedged in a chair with a few pillows. One twin asked, "Got any ideas on how we're gonna finish you off? I know what you told Mom, but . . ."
"I still don't know any recipes," said Ewan, "but I do know that some of my best meat's supposed to be here." He patted the layer of muscle that sheathed his chest. "That, and my shoulders and arms are about all that's left -- your guests are a hungry horde -- they kept coming back for more of me."
"Partly, that was the excitement of seeing you serving out slices of your own meat," said one of the fathers, a muscular red-head who Mr. Whithering called "Rusty" but whose real name Ewan never did catch, "That, and knowing you're watching me eating you alive. You did taste good, too."
The other twin said, "I suppose we could -- you know -- start eating, really eating you alive, just biting in without cooking you first."
"I doubt any of us have sharp enough teeth to do that," said Benjy. "And I hate to think what a dentist would charge to sharpen all our teeth."
"And if we did get all of my family's teeth sharpened," said Rusty, "then we'd all have to give up cocksucking. And Greg here already cost me a bundle for his teeth." He tousled the hair of his red-headed son, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against his leg.
"Unless we wore those rubber teeth-protectors that boxers use when we were working on somebody's shaft," said Greg. "Anyway, Dan's teeth cost you almost as much as mine did."
Rusty said, "Still, the real fun would be eating -- I mean really eating somebody's cock -- still raw, and still attached to the stud it belongs to." He studied his own shaft for a moment. "You could start out sucking, and when you've got him warmed up enough to go along with anything that happens, you'd start chewing, eating him alive, and raw too. Just thinking about it is getting me hard again."
"You volunteering to get eaten, Dad, or just eat somebody else?" asked Dan, strolling over to stand by Greg and Rusty.
"Want me to take you off now that you're good and hard again?" asked Ewan.
"I've been hard ever since one of the twins gave me that stay-hard pill. But where are you putting all the juice you've been sucking out of us?" Rusty demanded.
"I'll show you," said Ewan. He reached for the zipper that closed his abdomen, pulled it down. "Reach in there -- that's it." He felt a hand fumble inside his chest. "Found a bag in there? Open the clamp that's holding it in place -- there. Now take it out. See?"
Rusty held up a half-pint-sized plastic bag filled with gray and white swirls of creamy fluid.
Ewan said, "That's the stuff I've been sucking out of you hot-balled studs. There's quite a lot of it, isn't there?"
"There sure the fuck is."
"Want to split it, Dad?" asked Greg. "I'll drink half if you'll drink the rest."
"What about you, Dan?"
"A third for each of us?"
"And then I'll suck all three of you off again," said Ewan, licking his lips, remembering Rusty's long, thick shaft and those of his two lusty sons.
"It's a deal," said Greg and Dan together.
Ewan, Greg, and Dan watched as Rusty took a long sip of the bag's contents, then passed to Dan, who drank half of what was left, then to Greg, who emptied the bag.
"Put it back now?" asked Greg. Ewan nodded. Greg restored the bag to its place, and Ewan zipped himself closed again.
"Now -- who goes first?" asked Dan.
"Age before beauty," said Greg, with a go ahead gesture at his father toward Ewan.
"How about pearls before swine?" asked Rusty with a grin. He tousled Greg's hair again, stood up, and presented his shaft to Ewan, who closed his lips on it and began sucking the mouthful of hard meat.
"Hey, Dan," said Greg. "I just thought of something.
"Yeah?" Ewan saw Dan sit down beside Greg.
"What we just drank -- Ewan here sucked me off -- and you -- and Dad, right?"
"So? He did a good job of it, too."
"So what we just drank . . ."
"Oh, that." Dan paused. "Look, kiddo -- when you jack yourself off -- you've tasted that, haven't you?"
"Sure." said Greg. "Actually --" Ewan, dividing his attention between the two sons' conversation and their father's prong, saw Greg blush. "-- I've kind of gotten to like the taste of the stuff. And of course, it's a neat way to get rid of the evidence."
"So, if it's okay to chow down on your come, what's wrong with doing the same with mine -- or with Dad's?"
"Well, yeah, so long as we're not actually -- you know . . ." Greg turned to the Whithering twins. "Hey, have you studs ever -- you know --"
"-- sucked each other off?" one of the twins replied. "Just once --"
"-- this morning, while Benjy and Ewan were taking turns, fucking each other."
"And . . . ?" Dan asked.
The twins looked at each other and scowled. One said, "Incest is badly over-rated -- it's too much like jacking off in front of a mirror. Going after fresh meat is lots more fun. Hey, Dan, how about sucking me off while Ewan's working on your Dad --"
"-- and Greg, want to take me off while Dan's doing my brother?" asked the other twin.
Rusty eased Ewan off his own prong. "Lemme catch my breath. I want to make this last, too; and then this'll be it for tonight." He glanced at his two sons; Ewan helped him look. Greg was now stretched out on the legs of one of the twins, sucking him off; Dan was doing the same to the other twin.
"Ever get -- you know -- tempted?" asked Ewan.
"Not -- not really, but it's fun to watch them working on somebody else. It's -- well, you heard one of the twins -- it's partly like that, and partly . . ."
"Ever see them going at it before?"
"Oh, sure. The first time was when Dan saw me jacking off. He was curious, so I told him what I was doing -- I kept right on pumping my shaft while we were talking, too, so neither of us got embarrassed about his finding me like that. Afterwards -- well, one or the other might drop in while I was working on my prong, or I might see one of them working on his.
"My wife -- their mother -- had already left by then -- I had three older sons, but they all got Selected, and she said she couldn't stand seeing any more taken, so . . .
"Anyway, when they were a little older, I brought home a good-looking college kid who was hustling on the side, and the two of us showed Dan and Greg how to go about it -- fucking, sucking, the works -- and then they took turns fucking and sucking with the college kid while he and I coached them. And since then, when they brought in one of their hunky schoolmates, I might get invited to strip down and watch them go at it, and when I brought in somebody from the Club, I might invite them to watch. And maybe their pal would take me off too, and maybe my guest would want to service them.
"All in all, we've been real relaxed and easy-going about sex. Dan passed Selection last year, and Greg's due in a few months, but I think he'll do okay too -- his grades are good, and he's in great shape."
"Greg's great at sucking prong, too," said the twin that Greg was working on. "He's really got me going again -- right now, I'm trying to make it last."
The other twin propped his shoulders and upper torso with his elbows, and said, "Dan's great too -- he's got me right on the edge too. This is the first time we've -- you know -- done anything with them, even though they do live just down the block -- which'll make it real convenient, getting together again. And as for us and our Dad --"
The other twin said, "-- this is the first time we've ever seen him naked --"
Mr. Whithering said, "-- and it's the first time I've seen you boys' erections -- and doing things with them, too." He frowned. "It could have been fun, teaching you the ropes the way Rusty did with Greg and Dan, but you three seem to have learned how to do everything on your own."
"Dad," said Benjy, "you're a real well-built, well-hung stud; and it's great, seeing you naked and hard-cocked and everything. And I'm -- hey, all three of us, we're hoping we can be comfortable seeing each like this lots of times in the future. But, like my brother said, incest is over-rated, so . . ."
"I know what you mean, Son; I know what you mean. Watching you three perform tonight is fun, and I'm looking forward to being able to watch you going at it in the future, but . . ."
"Mr. Whithering," said Ewan, "how about finishing off Rusty here while I take Benjy again? I've got him real close; it won't take long."
The two fathers eyed each other warily for a moment. Then Mr. Whithering said, "Stretch out on the floor and I'll spike myself on your shaft. That way, I can watch Ewan take Benjy -- I haven't seen him in action yet."
"I was getting fucked by Hank, and he was taking his time about it," said Benjy. "That's why you missed me when you came in."
Ewan, Benjy, and the twins watched Mr. Whithering carefully impale himself on Rusty's shaft. Ewan reached for Benjy's shaft, guided it to his mouth, took it in deep, and started sucking. Benjy twisted his head and shoulders to one side, looked down, and asked, "How is he, Dad? As big as he looks?"
"Is he ever," replied Mr. Whithering, slowly pumping his own prong as he rode up and down on his red-headed neighbor's. "You can check him out day after tomorrow; he's invited the four of us over for a little get-together then."
"I don't know about you kids," said Rusty, "but it'll take me that long to recharge."
"Hey, great," sighed Benjy. He stroked Ewan's shoulders. "I wish you could come along too, but . . ."
Ewan pulled back, released Benjy's prong, and said, "So do I, but there's three growing boys in the house who want to finish eating me, and you're one of them."
"Maybe a big, hot lunch and then cold left-overs for supper? Of course, we could eat you raw for lunch -- cut off chunks with a sharp knife --" Benjy stroked Ewan's chest, tracing his sharply defined pectorals.
"-- and then eat the chunks raw? Tell you what: you promise not to cut chunks out of me tomorrow, and I'll promise not to bite chunks out of your prong tonight. Okay?"
"I don't know about that," Benjy replied slowly. "Letting you eat my prong raw instead of sucking me off might be kind of neat."
They grinned at each other. Then, as Ewan sucked on the throbbing prong, he felt Benjy stroking his shoulders, felt hands roam over his upper back, then around to the front of his chest to trace the edges of his pectoral muscles. Ewan eased himself back and off Benjy's prong, looked up, licked his lips, and asked, "Checking out what's for lunch?"
"That too. Mostly feeling up the hunky stud who hasn't bitten into my prong while he's sucking me off, but who just might decide to after all. And thinking about that, and checking out your body and your face, and watching my brothers get sucked off and my Dad get fucked -- hey! take me again, quick; I'm just about to shoot."
Ewan was quick; Benjy unloaded into Ewan's re-applied suction just in time. Ewan sucked the spurting prong dry, then watched the twins reach their own climaxes. Dan and Greg were just climbing off the twins when Rusty pointed at Mr. Whithering and cried, "Quick -- somebody take him!"
Dan and Greg were quick too; they took turns, passing Mr. Whithering's spurting prong back and forth as he came -- and came -- and finally pumped himself dry. Ewan sucked off Dan and Greg next, alternating between one and the other, finally sucking on both their glandes when they shot their loads together.
* * *
After that, the guests began to dress. Each thanked Ewan for being the dinner's main course, then thanked the Whitherings -- who, still naked, saw each guest to the front door. Finally, the twins knelt beside Ewan, he put his arms around their shoulders, and they carried him to Benjy's bedroom where all four -- Benjy, the twins, and Ewan -- settled down to sleep.
* * *
With morning came Mr. Whithering -- naked and sporting a morning hard-on -- to report that Mrs. Whithering had departed for the day to visit an elderly aunt in the next town -- and to inject another helping of intravenous solution, which woke Ewan enough to service all four Whitherings while they took turns taking showers and being sucked off.
Mr. Whithering was at first nervous about being watched so intently by his three sons, then invited them to satisfy their curiosity and run their fingers over his balls and stiff prong while he was being sucked off. After that, he visibly relaxed; so did his sons.
Ewan was feeling cold, declined the offer of a fuzzy bathrobe, put his arms around the twins' shoulders again, and everyone -- still naked -- proceeded to the kitchen, where the twins, following the instructions in the borrowed cookbook for people, carefully removed Ewan's kidneys and liver.
"We could have left them in," one of the twins explained, "but they'll taste better if they're cooked separately."
"As for your lungs and your heart . . . ," said the other twin.
"What the fuck," said Ewan, "I might as well find out what getting the rest of me getting roasted alive feels like. Besides, I'm still cold."
"The way you're going on, it almost sounds like you're trying to get us to volunteer for Disposal too," said Benjy.
"Well, guys wouldn't be so worried about being Selected if they knew what being eaten alive is really like," said Ewan as the twins loaded him aboard the run-through oven and turned on the power.
"I suppose if we had roasted you over a bed of coals like a proper barbeque, it would have been a lot more painful than this," one twin said. "We might of had to tie you down to something so you wouldn't get away."
"This way," the other said, "your nerves get burned out before they get a chance to tell you how much you're really hurting. At least, that's what the cookbook says, but whether the author talked to any studs while they were being cooked, I don't know."
"Uh -- where do you want me to put my arms?"
"The book doesn't say, but the picture --" One of the twins opened the cook-book and showed Ewan a photo of a stiff-pronged stud almost as muscular as Ewan himself lying on his back with his arms at his sides.
"Makes sense," said Ewan, letting his arms drop to his own sides. A few moments later, he felt his hands getting warm, then hot. His lower torso warmed, the warmth creeping up towards his rib-cage as the belt drew his truncated body deeper into the oven's heating elements.
He looked up; four naked, hard-pronged studs, eager to eat him as soon as he was done, met his gaze. Ewan grinned; all four licked their lips and grinned back at him.
Now Ewan's upper arms -- his bulging biceps and triceps, the muscles that sheathed his broad chest, his shoulders . . . the oven was bathing them in heat -- radiant heat, beginning to crisp his skin; microwave heat, cooking him from inside, cooking his muscular self, slowly -- ever so slowly -- cooking him alive.