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Copyright (C) 1999 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.
A chapter from HUNGRY PLANET, a work in progress; the setting is a planet whose people have chosen some -- ah -- interesting ways to keep from over-populating their world. A visiting Space Patrol spaceship has landed, and its crew have scattered out on the planet to explore native customs. Here's one of them:
Dan stood just outside the entrance to the wide, brick building, the morning sun comfortably warm against bare skin, waiting for Oscar to catch up. The Space Patrolman -- naked but for boots, belt, and uniform cap -- hooked his thumbs in that belt and glanced down at his shaft -- half-hard already -- then looked up as his shipmate -- also stripped to boots, belt, and cap -- approached.
Oscar nodded to Dan, took three long strides into the long, arch-roofed building, then stopped. Dan squeezed past the blond Hercules to stand alongside; and Dan studied the inside of the building for a moment, eager to find changes since his last visit. He glanced at Oscar, saw his shipmate looking around warily.
"Come on," said Dan, "let's check th' place out."
"Take it easy, kid. The place is supposed to be dangerous, isn't it? I mean, they've even got a place next door where they take you apart afterwards."
"It's supposed t' . . ." Dan put his right arm around Oscar's broad, thick-muscled shoulders. "Relax, big guy; it's perfectly safe to watch other bucks doing themselves in, s' long as you don't try to prove you've got th' balls to do yourself in." Dan glanced down and saw Oscar's prong was slowly hardening.
"Okay, but I'm just looking, right?"
"Up to you. I sorta like to tease machines with my prong. C'mon -- I'll show you what I mean." Dan grabbed Oscar's stiffening prong and squeezed.
"So long as we don't tease 'em with mine -- understand?"
"Sure, sure -- but you look kinda turned on already. Feels like it, too." Dan released the big blond's shaft, then squeezed his own hard meat. "Come to think of it, so do I."
"I'm not -- I mean, thinking about losing my balls doesn't put me into orbit; but watching some other stud working on his, that could be kinda -- interesting. Hey, what'd you mean, `teasing'?"
"It's -- you know how th' local bucks put jellied turpentine on their organs, and then try to ignite each other's prongs, using fencing swords with th' tips on fire?" asked Dan.
"Yeah. I watched a bunch of Space Marines try it. At first, whenever a Marine's prong caught fire, he'd put out the flames after a minute or so. Pretty soon, two Marines dared each other to let themselves go on burning; and they were both crazy enough -- or stubborn enough -- to do it. And when they did, other Marines let their organs get cooked too. Then the ones already burning dared the ones who weren't to set themselves on fire . . ."
". . . and they all roasted themselves together?" Dan felt his own shaft twitch as he imagined a circle of naked Space Marines with shafts and balls wrapped in flames.
"Most of 'em, yeah. Space Marines are all crazy. Even kidded each other 'bout who had the biggest organs while they were cooking; and when they were done, they ate each other, just like the natives do after their contests. They even offered me a few bites." Oscar shook his blond head. "Real crazy."
"Well, th' stuff here, most of it's just you and th' cock- screw, or whatever, and maybe a buddy for company. C'mon; I'll show you."
Oscar followed Dan, grumbling, "Quit saying I'm gonna do any of this stuff. Like I said, looking is as far as I want to go."
"Up to you," Dan said, as they strolled along a row of crotch-high gelding machines along one side of the building.
Dan spotted two men, Pete and Gregg, two electricians from their spaceship, now stripped -- like Dan and Oscar -- to their belts, boots, and caps. The electricians were studying a wall panel at the side of the room.
Dan asked, "Want to go see what those bucks are doing?"
"Yeah. But just watching; okay?"
"Okay, okay. Come on."
Pete looked up as Dan and Oscar approached. "Hi, Oscar. Hi, Dan; you leadin' this big stud astray?"
"He's just -- we're just checking the place out," said Oscar.
"Then check out what we're doing here," said Gregg. "We just finished the count-down and we're ready to blast off."
"What's th' countdown here?" Dan asked as he and Oscar knelt for a closer look at six rubber-covered, finger-thick cables that connected the wall panel to the electricians' genitals. Dan saw that two cables ran to electrodes planted in Pete's and Gregg's glandes; the other four, to electrodes clamped onto the electricians' balls.
"This setup's great," Gregg said, "it's got timers and rheostats and ammeters and everything. Yesterday, one of the guides that work here -- a young stud named Torrey -- told Jim and me about this gear. When we got interested, Torrey wired himself to the panel here to show us how it works. Jim said he wanted to feel it working on his own organs, so Torrey wired Jim up too. Torrey turned on the current and -- with all three of us watching -- the machine started warming up Jim's and Torrey's organs.
"After a few minutes, Jim asked Torrey how far he planned to go. Torrey said, `All the way,' and Jim said he'd go all the way with him; and then -- they did.
"Well, getting cooked alive sure looked interesting; and Jim said it felt interesting; and they let me take a couple of bites, and they -- they tasted interesting. Anyway -- when I got back to the ship, I told Pete about it, and . . ."
". . . and we talked each other into trying it ourselves -- so here we are, wired in and ready to go." Pete gestured at the wall-panel's electrical switches and meters. "When Gregg turns the thing on, it'll run a current from our cock-tips to our balls, starting so low we can hardly feel it, but getting stronger and stronger till it's cooking our prongs -- and balls -- just like it did Jim's and Torrey's. And then we'll find out how we taste, cooked like this."
"And -- afterwards?" asked Oscar.
"That's kind of interesting too," said Gregg. He gestured towards the far end of the building. "There's a kind of vivisection line at the far end of the building. We watched Jim and Torrey help cut up the studs ahead of them into steaks and chops and so on; and then they climbed onto the rack and watched themselves being cut up by next studs in line."
Oscar said, "Then you don't --"
"-- get finished off right away?" Gregg shook his head. "Idea's to keep you alive as long as possible while they vivisect you, so you don't miss anything. . . . Ready, Pete?"
Pete nodded.
Dan sat back on his heels and watched as Gregg turned to the wall and put his right hand on a big, red switch. He glanced back over his shoulder at Pete, then flipped the switch.
Pete studied his own rigid shaft for a couple of minutes, looked up, and said, "Hey, that thing's got a bite to it."
"Sure does," said Gregg. "So far, the only place I feel anything is where the electrodes touch my cock-tip and my balls."
"Same here," Pete reported.
"That's what Jim and Torrey said, right after they started." Greg glanced at the meters on the panel. "But it'll get strong enough to heat up our prongs and our balls --"
"-- and then it'll cook us alive," growled Pete, scowling at Dan and Oscar. "Why I let Gregg talk me into this . . ."
"Me?" snorted Gregg. "You were the one who said I didn't have the balls to do it."
"Yeah? You dared me first --"
"-- but that was just part-way. And you're the one who was asking why I didn't wire up mine when Jim did. I told you I wanted for us to . . ." Gregg paused, took a deep breath, and carefully squeezed the barrel of his shaft with his right thumb and forefinger. "Isn't warm yet; but the current's really working on me."
"More bite than burn so far," said Gregg, studying his own genitals.
"What's that?" Pete asked, pointing at the electrode in his glans.
Dan, still on his knees, leaned forward for a closer look and saw a wisp of smoke rising from Pete's glans; he felt his own shaft stiffen as he watched.
"Thing's not making good contact." Gregg reached for Pete's shaft and adjusted the electrode; Dan saw the smoke thin and disappear. "Better?"
"Well -- yeah." Pete wiggled the electrode himself. "Yeah. It's -- more spread out now. The current keeps getting stronger -- and stronger -- and I can feel it all through my prong now."
"Now mine's starting to smoke -- see?"
"Hey," asked Dan, scrambling to his feet, "how long does it take to cook your meat like this, anyway?"
Pete and Gregg glanced at each other, and then Gregg said, "About an hour so we come out good and tender. If you two don't mind waiting around . . . there's just this one setup, but when we finish cooking, you can . . ."
"Look, we better get going," said Oscar, standing up. "We got our own prongs to work on. Thanks for the demo." He patted Pete's back, squeezed Gregg's shoulder. Dan shook hands with both electricians and then followed the muscular blond.
"You really mean that?" asked Dan, when they were out of earshot. "About working on our prongs?"
Oscar laughed. "That was just to get away from those studs and their squabble over who talked whom into what." He hooked his right arm around Dan's shoulders. "Hey, Dan, I'm just looking. Okay?"
"Okay, okay." Dan touched the big blond's hard shaft. "But something sure turned you on."
"Like I said, watching other studs . . ."
"Okay, okay."
Farther along the main aisle, Dan saw three stiff-pronged men around a waist-high pillar: a native, naked but for a tool- belt, and two men from the ship -- both stripped to caps, belts, and boots: Larry, a solidly-muscled mechanic, and a Space Marine whose name Dan didn't remember.
As Dan and Oscar strode closer, Larry fitted something around the base of the Marine's genitals, while the native turned a screw on the pillar. The Marine looked up, grinned, and said, "Yo, Oscar."
"Hi, Jake. You know Dan?"
"I do now. Y' got here just in time t' see us test this here cock-puller that Larry and Zebro put together -- Zebro works here." The Space Marine patted the native's shoulder with his right hand. "Larry clamped this real tight 'round the base of my spike." With his left hand, Jake touched two steel rings clamped onto his shaft between crotch and balls. "And underneath, there's this little hydraulic cylinder-and-piston thing -- see?" He lifted his balls; Dan saw a steel cylinder attached to the clamps and connected by a hose to the waist-high pillar.
"Hydraulic?" asked Oscar.
"You got it," Larry said, touching a similar pair of clamps that gripped his own hard shaft. "They'll push the clamps apart, stretching my shaft at the base." He pointed at the hose that linked him to the pillar. "And there's where the pressure comes from."
Zebro tucked his screwdriver into his belt. "It's all set now," he reported.
Larry said, "And, of course, the other set of clamps will stretch his cock just as hard."
"Yeah," said Jake. "On account of these hoses, you don't hafta stand with your crotch rammed up against a prong-stretching machine. 'Stead, you can move around while it's workin' on you -- see?"
"I see," said Dan. "It looks neat -- uh -- how many --"
"Right now, we only have enough cylinders to pull out two studs' cocks at a time," said Larry. "But if this test comes out okay, Zebro can add cylinders and run six-man prong-pulling contests easy. Way we got it set up, you can walk up t' the controls and turn up the pressure, and then step back and check out how the other studs are takin' it, right?"
"You could even sit down," Larry said, "and take it easy while somebody else handles the controls."
"Getting tortured in comfort?" Oscar asked.
"Comfort?" snorted Jake. "There's no fuckin' way t' be comfortable when your spike gettin' pulled out by the roots, but . . . it's -- y' know -- gonna be kinda fun, tryin' out somethin' new like this. At least, it'll be inter'stin' -- right, Larry?"
"Then, you're both . . . ?" Dan asked. He imagined those steel clamps gripping the stem of his own organs, beginning to pull, and he felt his prong stiffen again.
". . . going all the way? Yep," said the muscular mechanic. "The high-pressure flex hose is from shipboard stores; the clamps are the standard prong-pullers they use here, and Zebro and I built the rest --" He nodded at the native with the wrench. "-- and while he and I were putting it all together, Jake showed up and volunteered, so . . ."
Jake grinned and touched the base of his shaft, which slowly darkened with trapped blood. "After I wiped out the rest of my squad, weight-liftin', I kinda ran outa studs willin' t' bet their meat 'gainst mine, okay? I heard what Larry was workin' on, and he's hung real good too, maybe even thicker'n me, anyway, here I am."
Larry said, "Jake and I ran a few tests on ourselves -- just part way -- and he made a couple of useful suggestions. I started getting -- you know -- curious -- and then he . . ."
The naked Marine grinned. "All I did was tell him how excitin' it is, bettin' your balls against another stud's, liftin' weights, right? And I told him I been wonderin' just how the fuck much tension it would take t' pull my fuckin' equipment out by the roots, so --"
Larry nodded. "Anyway, we both want to find out what -- what it's like when we -- go."
Zebro turned to Dan and Oscar. "Inventors are all like this," he sighed, and shook his head.
"Yeah, yeah," said Larry, "but you know how everything works, Zebro; and since me and Jake are hot to blast off and try this thing out on ourselves, so . . ."
Zebro said, "A couple of weight-lifters are coming here to test this gear with their organs, but these Space-studs . . ."
The Marine grinned and said, "I offered t' bet mine against Larry's, even as thick as he's hung, but --"
"Look, Jake," said Larry, "How many guys' organs have you eaten already?"
"Come on now; I didn't win that fuckin' many."
"Your whole squad?"
"Hey, that wasn't a winner-take-all deal." Jake shook his head firmly. "My squad was out on a run a while back. We met a bunch of locals who were seein' who could pick up the most fuckin' weight with their prongs, and havin' lots of fun doin' it, even the ones who pullin' their meat out by the fuckin' roots while they were tryin'. After that, they'd toss the organs that got pulled out into a steamer, and the winners ate those organs when they were done -- okay?
"After watchin' a while, I told Glenn: `I got the balls t' try that if you do.'
"He said, `Let's go,' so we borrowed gear from the locals, hooked ourselves up, and went the fuck at it, addin' weights and liftin', addin' and liftin', till Glenn pulled his meat out, tryin' to lift as much as I just did.
"Pedro and David went at it next. Then Brad bet his organs against Sandy's, and Sandy won that match. Luke and Rod -- big Rod, that is -- paired up next; and while I was eatin' Glenn's meat, Kevin and Wes -- anyway, it went on till we'd all paired off and gone at it.
"Afterwards, the eight of us who'd won cooked and ate the balls and prongs of the eight who lost -- okay?
"That afternoon, after the losers went off together to the meat-packing plant, the rest of us paired off and went at it again. Luke and David and Sandy and me won that round. Next mornin', Luke beat David, and I beat Sandy; and the day after that, I beat Luke. But that's just Glenn's, Kevin's, Sandy's, and Luke's sex-meat, plus the Lieutenant's, so --"
Dan asked, "How'd you get the Lieutenant to let you eat his balls?" He felt his shaft rise, glanced at Oscar, saw the blond Hercules's shaft was stiffening too.
Jake grinned. "Well, he asked what the fuck was goin' on, so Luke and me, we showed him. Then, while I was eatin' Luke's meat, the Lieutenant wanted t' know what it was like, and Luke and me, we kinda talked the Lieutenant into tryin' it for himself, so he bet his organs 'gainst mine and we went at it, okay?"
"Okay, okay," said Larry, "but by now, you've eaten five studs' organs, and I haven't had any."
"I still think you'd have more fun if -- okay, okay, then; I got another idea," said Jake, reaching for the controls on the pillar. "With this rig, we'll find the fuck out who's got the stronger cock-stem. And we've already decided that after one of us pulls his meat out, the other stud'll go all the way too, okay? Now, you're hung heavier than me. Thicker prong, bigger balls, right?. So, after we've steamed our organs t'gether, how 'bout the winner -- the stud with the stronger cock-stem -- eats your organs, and the loser eats mine. . . . Okay?"
"Oh . . . all right, then. Go ahead, start the thing going -- but . . . why the bet?"
Jake turned a knob on the pillar. "At least half the fun with these tension matches is checkin' out the other stud's organs and thinkin' how much meat you'd get if he pulls his off before you lose yours." He glanced at Larry's shaft, at his own, then at a pressure gauge on the pillar. "Tension's up t' seventy-five again." He pointed at the steel clamps that gripped the base of his shaft, turned to Oscar, and said, "Th' base o' my prong stretches when the thing pulls harder, see?" Turning to Larry again, Jake asked, "Ready for more?"
"Make that just a little more," said Larry, looking up from his own genitals. "Don't go too fast. Let's take it slow and easy, so we can -- you know --"
"Enjoy it?" asked Dan, feeling his own shaft harden. He glanced at Oscar, saw the big blond's prong was stiff too.
"Well, yeah," said Larry. "It's -- it's different. Interesting, too, feeling the clamps pull on my shaft, and the harder they pull, the tighter they squeeze, so . . ."
"Yeah?" Oscar said.
And maybe -- just maybe, Dan told himself, the big buck's getting th' idea."
"Anyway," said Jake, "Here goes."
Dan knelt at Jake's feet to watch. The naked Marine turned up the pressure still more. Dan saw the stem of Jake's prong stretch. "I can see how it's trying to pull your prong out. How's it feel?"
"It's -- it doesn't feel the way it does when y' pick up a string of weights." Jake reported. "The pull's sort of away from me now, and with weights, it's straight down." He watched silently as Zebro measured the distance Larry's clamps had separated, then said, "Can't feel anythin' comin' the fuck loose -- least not yet."
Then, after Zebro measured how far the clamps had stretched Jake's shaft, Larry stepped up to the pillar and twisted the control knob.
The solidly built mechanic gestured at the pillar; Jake carefully advanced the control knob a little more. Taking turns, the two men increased the tension on their organs -- pausing now and again to let Zebro record how far their shafts had stretched.
Jake said, "See? I told y' it'd be fun t' bet your balls, right?"
"I dunno," said Larry, looking over at Jake's organs, then down at his own, "but something's going to pull loose pretty soon, and I can't tell how much more I can take before it does."
"Well," said Jake with a grin, "this much of a pull castrated everybody in my squad 'cept me and Luke. Some studs -- Sandy told me when his organs were gonna rip, right t' the kilo, while the Lieutenant thought his were gonna come off twenty kilos before they did."
"It depends on what lets go first," Zebro explained. "Studs that stretch a lot -- like you, Jake -- can generally tell when they're going to lose their organs."
Jake frowned. "Well -- I'm gettin' real fuckin' close now -- feelin' myself stretchin' -- Hey! Somethin's th' fuck startin' to give -- there!"
Dan felt Oscar's arm tighten around his shoulders as they watched the Marine's shaft stretch -- and stretch -- and suddenly rupture with a wet slurp and a spurt of blood.
"That was rough," said Jake, breathing hard. He watched Zebro release the clamps from the cylinder: one still gripped the stump where Jake's genitals had been, the other gripped the end of his extracted, still-rigid shaft. "It took more'n I thought -- t' pull 'em the fuck out, I mean." He held up his severed shaft and balls with his right hand, studied them closely for a few seconds, then looked up and grinned. "Fuck, Larry; y' shoulda taken me up on that winner-takes-all bet."
"Maybe so," the muscular mechanic said. "It won't take much more to pull mine out now."
"Still goin' all the way?" asked Jake.
"Yeah. You did, so . . ."
"Five kilos more?" asked Jake.
"I dunno," said Larry. "Maybe half that?"
"Sure," said Jake.
"Okay then. Slow -- that's -- that's okay. Now, lemme turn it up a bit -- aaaah! I think -- yeah; I can feel my prong coming loose, down inside -- there!"
A spurt of blood and a wet thump marked Larry's castration. Zebro jotted down the tension it took to geld the sturdy mechanic, then released Larry's clamps from the hydraulic cylinder. Jake and Larry inspected their severed genitals for a moment before Zebro pointed out a near-by steamer. The two men dropped in their organs. Dan and Oscar shook hands all around, then strode away.
"See? Marines are real crazy," said Oscar, a moment later, as they strolled along the big room's central aisle .
"I see what you mean," said Dan. "Hey, when those Marines cooked theirs and offered to let you take a bite . . ."
"Did I take some?" The big blond licked his lips. "Yeah. Kind of weird, biting into a stud -- eating him -- alive -- with him watching, and asking how I like the way he tastes." He shook his blond head. "Isn't anybody gelding themselves today but studs from th' ship?" Oscar asked. "Those two --"
"-- and Gregg and Pete --"
"-- and the two of us." Oscar scanned the wide room for a few seconds. "Something's going on over there -- locals, too -- want to look?"
"Sure -- come on!"
The naked Space Patrolmen found a couple of sturdy young natives sliding their shafts and tucking their balls into opposite ends of the horizonal plates of a motor-driven vise. One native touched a switch and started the machine. The other explained: "The bottom is a hot plate, and the top's glass, so we can watch. First, we poured in some batter. Then we stuck ourselves in. Now it's crushing and baking us into a meat pie."
While Dan and Oscar watched, the glass-topped vise slowly flattened the youths' genitalia. After a few minutes, one shaft erupted into a smear of bloody pulp; the second shaft burst seconds later. Testicles lasted a moment longer, then ruptured into widening, crimson smears.
The youth who had turned on the machine looked up from his crushed organs and said, "We'll finish cooking in a half-hour, but if you want to cook yours like this, there's another two-man vise just over there, ready to go . . ."
"Thanks," said Dan, "but th' big buck's just looking, and I kinda like to tease the machines on down the line, so . . ."
"These?" asked Oscar. And as he and Dan approached a pair of crotch-high machines, the rollers along their tops began turning. "They just go off and leave stuff like this running?"
"Well, sort of. Soon as somebody gets close, th' things start up, all ready to take you. Stick your cock into that horizontal pair of rollers on th' end; and they'll grab your glans, squeeze it flat, and pass it to th' next set of rollers, and then on to th' ones after that, with each pair crushing and stretching your prong -- and then your balls -- into a nice long string of bloody pulp. Like this: . . ." Dan stepped to the closer machine, guided his hard shaft to the horizontal input rollers, and carefully nudged them with his glans.
"Hey! You're not . . ."
"Nope." Dan pulled back, and his shaft snapped erect again. "Just -- just teasing th' thing. It's exciting, feeling those rollers trying to pull your --"
"-- not mine."
"Okay, okay, trying to pull my prong in, pull it in and stretch and squeeze it -- and eventually pull in my balls and crush them too, if I let it get started." Dan looked at Oscar and shrugged his shoulders. "Either you go for teasing these things with your cock, or . . ."
"I don't." Oscar strolled to the next pair of machines, these equipped with sharp-toothed gears instead of smooth rollers. "How about these?" he asked as the gears began turning.
"Just what they look like: cock-choppers."
Oscar nodded. "Yeah; with all these steel gear-teeth meshing in there, if they just barely touched the end of your prong, wouldn't you . . . ?"
". . . get chopped into hamburger? Not if you know what you're doing." Dan followed Oscar to a cock-chopper. Very carefully, Dan eased his shaft against the slowly turning gears, felt the teeth gently scrape his glans. "Let 'em touch you real light, so they just graze th' tip of your prong and slide on by without catching hold."
"Maybe," said Oscar, frowning doubtfully.
"Dangerous, sure; but this stuff's s'posed to be dangerous. 'Twouldn't be any fun if it weren't." Dan left his glans in the midst of the deadly gears for a minute more before carefully withdrawing. "Remember Stevie?"
"Curly-haired kid -- computer section -- kind of wild?"
"That's him. Well, was. He stuck his prong in a bit too far; and when he felt th' teeth dig in, 'stead of pulling back, he rammed himself in hard and shot his load while th' machine chopped up his prong; and that was th' end of Stevie."
"He really creamed?" Oscar took a closer look at the glittering gears. "You sure?"
"Standing right beside him when he did. His meat came out of th' chopper flavored with ball-cream. He said he shot another load when it took his balls, but it was kinda hard to tell. After th' thing finished cutting up his organs, he invited me to try some chopped Stevie."
"You ate him? Raw?"
"Not raw. There's a frying pan and a hot plate over there, on th' far side of the machines, and I helped him cook what came out of th' chopper. He tasted pretty good, too." Dan licked his lips and grinned.
"And this one?" Oscar pointed the next machine. A shiny steel helix, about two-thirds the diameter of Dan's shaft, jutted horizontally from that machine. "Kind of a power-driven cork- screw -- a cock-screw, like you were talking about a while back?" The big blond stepped closer, and the helix began turning.
"Right." Dan gripped his stiff prong and strode to the machine. "See that thing like a long wood-screw, coming out the end of th' helix, with th' screw and th' helix trning in opposite directions? That's what screws itself into your -- okay, okay, screws itself into my glans. And when the screw goes into my shaft, it'll pull my glans onto th' outer helix, and that'll screw itself into me next. Like -- like this." He took a deep breath, leveled his shaft, stepped close, and impaled the opening at the end of his shaft with the tip of the inner screw.
"What the -- you -- you just let it go into you like that? You didn't really --"
"Nope. Just in th' hole that's already there. Hasn't cut into me -- 'least, not yet." Dan stood for a moment, hands on lean hips, watching his prong quiver, feeling cold steel rotate just inside his glans. "It's -- it gets to me, feeling th' thing turning, kinda like it's real eager to take my prong." He carefully eased his shaft back from the screw. "It -- it kinda sneaks up on you. I almost -- you know --"
"-- let it take you? Just now?"
"Not now, but -- some other time, maybe." Dan shivered, but his prong was still rock-hard. He stepped aside and watched as Oscar strode to the machine and deftly slid the hole in his his own glans onto the rotating screw-tip.
Oscar studied the outer helix for a moment, then -- with his glans still impaled by the inner screw -- he turned his head and grinned at Dan. "It's not all that dangerous, provided you pull back every time it makes a complete turn, so it doesn't screw itself in deeper and deeper till it takes you. Be awful easy for those sharp edges to get a grip, and if they do, you'd be screwed f' sure." He backed a pace, gripping his virile shaft. "Now I'm wondering just what it'd feel like, letting something take me all the way."
Dan looked down at Oscar's prong, then back up to meet the big blond's worried frown. "If you ever did do something with your meat, how would you do it?"
"If . . . ? Probably just go ahead and do it. I don't get much outa this maybe-maybe stuff, so . . ." Oscar shook his head. "How 'bout you, stud?"
"Just doing it -- I dunno. Teasing's more fun. That's why this is my favorite -- that cock-chopper over there is my second choice, 'cause you can watch it try to get your prong, and watch it chew you up if it does. This one, now -- it doesn't -- you know -- look as dangerous as th' cock-chopper, but . . ." Dan carefully thrust his shaft forward so that the inner screw slid into his cock-tube again. ". . . it's sneaky. And if it does get started . . ."
He wrapped his left hand around his glans and squeezed, felt his shaft surge under his fingers, and squeezed harder. "Th' outside edge of the screw's going 'round, trying to get a grip, and --" Dan felt a stab of pain inside his shaft. "Hey! It's -- oh, fuck!" He tried to pull back, but the pain sharpened. He put both hands on his hips and scowled down at his glans, while -- inside -- he felt the screw cut deeper into his flesh.
"What happened, Dan? Did you -- did it -- ?"
"Sure the fuck did. While I was worrying about th' screw- edges cutting my cock-tube, th' fucking screw-tip slid right through the top of th' tube and into me."
"Come on, Dan -- pull back hard -- do it now -- get off quick 'fore you're ruined!"
"And go crying back to th' ship with my prong ripped open? -- sure, sure; I know -- I could get it patched up, but that'd be cheating, and --"
"Cheating?"
"Teasing th' machine's no fun 'less -- unless you're gonna let it take you all th' way if it does catch you -- like -- like it just caught me," said Dan, gesturing at his impaled prong. He held himself rigid as the center screw twisted itself deeper, watched the tip of the outer helix reach his glans and skid over the surface, then felt and saw the tip dig in. Dan squirmed, then -- slowly -- relaxed. "Well, now I know I got the balls to let it take me."
"Then -- then you're just going to let it . . . ?" Oscar asked.
Dan nodded as he watched the machine screw itself into his prong.
"But the other -- the cock-chopper -- that's your favorite?"
Dan nodded.
"Well, at least you can watch me do this," growled Oscar. He pushed his stiff prong down to the horizontal and approached the cock-chopper that stood next to Dan's cock- screw machine.
"Hey!" yelped Dan, looking up from his own doomed shaft. "You're not --"
"Wanta bet?" Oscar stepped closer to the slowly-rotating gears. "What I said was that I don't want to play games with these things. But if just I go ahead and feed myself into these gears -- that's different. Now you can watch the chopper eat my prong while I watch the screw go into yours. And after that . . ."
"After that?" Dan asked.
"Well, you helped Stevie cook his meat, so you know how to cook mine."
Fascinated, Dan saw the blond Hercules ease his rigid shaft into the cock-chopper, saw its teeth brush Oscar's glans, saw them skid over the velvety skin for a moment. Oscar paused, grinned at Dan, then looked down, sucked in his stomach, expanded his muscle-plated chest, and with a slow thrust of his lean hips, fed himself to the chopper's gears.
As Dan felt cold steel bore deeper into his own shaft, he watched sharp teeth scrape, then cut into the tip of Oscar's cock, watched blood spurt, watched the machine slowly eat the big blond's glans. Oscar gradually eased his shaft deeper into the gears, then leaned back and made them pull him in.
"Trying to decide," Oscar explained, as he thrust his shaft into the cock-chopper again, "whether it's more of a turn- on to make it pull me in, or to push myself in, the way I'm doing now. Either way, feeling those gear teeth cutting in, feel them eating me, eating me alive while we watch . . ."
Dan felt Oscar's hand tighten on Dan's shoulder, saw Oscar tense his thick muscles, saw the blond Hercules hold his breath, squirm for a moment, then let out a long sigh as the machine finished chopping Oscar's glans to mincemeat and started biting into the barrel of his shaft.
"Did you shoot?" asked Dan, feeling the cock-screw twist itself ever deeper into his own shaft.
"Yeah. Weird. I actually pumped a load into the thing while I was feeling it eat me. Now I know how Stevie felt when it cut into his prong." Oscar looked up from own castration and met Dan's gaze. "You come yet?"
Dan shook his head. "Almost: it's a real turn-on, watching you feed th' thing with your cock, but you did suck me pretty dry this morning -- but maybe by th' time this thing drills in deeper . . ."
"Yeah?" For a moment, Oscar watched the cock-screw twist itself into Dan's prong. "That thing won't do anything to your balls, though."
"I know." Dan touched his rigid prong, squeezed gently. Under his fingers, he felt the steel helix rotate, boring ever deeper into his own flesh. "I suppose I could cook 'em, 'long with what's left of my cock when this thing finishes screwing itself into me."
"Fry them? Like mine?"
"Yeah, only -- still attached, so I could -- you know --"
"-- feel them cook? I got another idea."
"Better'n mine?" asked Dan.
"Maybe." The blond Hercules gestured at the growing pile of his own chopped genitalia. "Fry my meat first. And after you've eaten my equipment, then I'll eat yours -- prong, balls, and all."
"Just -- raw? Without cutting anything off first? You'll just --"
"-- start eating? Yeah, why not? I'll eat what's left of your spike, and then I'll bite into your balls and eat them." Oscar licked his lips and grinned. "That way, 'stead of just watching, you can feel me chewing on your cock, feel yourself being castrated, feel my teeth dig into balls. How 'bout it, stud?"
"Letting you eat me alive -- like that -- now I am gonna shoot," Dan growled. He licked his lips. "I didn't think talking about it would turn me on, but --" As Dan watched the gears pull Oscar's balls farther into their scissoring grip, he felt the counter-rotating cock-screw twist deeper and deeper into his own shaft, felt pressure build inside, down in the roots of his organs. "-- it does!"
Copyright (C) 1999 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.