Goodwin Prescott
Cotter's Gap Tradition
(A Thanksgiving story)

Part one - "The Tradition"

"Dad," Erik said, "We gotta talk about something pretty serious."

I sat down the newspaper and gave my handsome eighteen year old son my full attention.

"What's so serious? Girl problems?"

He made a wry face,

"As if there enough girls in this town to even create problems! All anyone seems to have around here is sons."

"Yeah," I nodded. "They joke about it even. 'Must be something in the water.' But they do breed out a lot of boys all right."

"Well, in a way, I guess that's what the problem is. Not that there's so many unneeded boys, but what they do with a bunch of them every year."

"Like what? Do they take out a bunch of newborn baby boys and drown them like unwanted kittens?"

He didn't smile at my little attempt at humor. Instead he swallowed real hard.

"You're closer than you think. They wait until they turn eighteen and then have a drawing. Those drawn are then sold at an auction and the money goes into the high school scholarship fund."

"At least it's for a good cause," I frowned. "I suppose the boys become sort of indentured servants for their 'owners?' "

Erik shook his blond head.

"No, dad. They...they butcher them and serve them as Thanksgiving dinner instead of turkey. Almost everyone in town who's lived here for a long time does it."

It took him a while to convince me, but he finally succeeded and then related the whole story. He had gotten close to some of the other jock boys in school and they had spilled the beans when he'd asked if they had plans for after graduation. That, he was told, was not something they could do until after the Thanksgiving lottery. There was a ten percent chance they wouldn't be around.

That was the percentage selected to go on the town's tables for the annual feasting.

Apparantly it had started in the great depression. In the hard-hit mountain community in east Tennessee noone could afford a Thanksgiving turkey, but the town had a glut of useless young men whose existence posed an unwelcome burden on their families.The owner of a remote farm invited everyone to a great feast, asking families to "contribute" unwanted sons. Dozens of unsuspecting boys were delivered to the farm for slaughter. It worked so well that it was repeated the next year with so many families eager to shed their extra mouths that a lottery system had to be adopted.

The disappearance of the youths was chalked up to their "hitting the road" to seek work elsewhere, a common occurence in those days.

At first the feasts were kept secret from the younger sons in the participating families since they would likely provide future

meals and it was feared they would run away if they knew. However, by World War II, after a decade of the unusual feasts, the boys of Cotter's Gap had been raised up with the clear understanding that when they hit eighteen they would go "at risk" one time in the lottery. They just accepted it.

From the first, it was voluntary. No family had to participate, but only a very few families opted out even after economic

conditions improved. Most had developed a fondness for the special meat and were skilled in its preparation. Even those who reverted to turkey honored the conspiracy of silence to keep the dark secret from the outside world. From l94l to l945,

during the war itself, the dining abated as the prospective roasters went off to fight, but Thanksgiving l946 saw the tradition fully honored once more from among that year's juicy crop of fresh eighteeners.

In l952, it turned into an auction. The big, free feast had become too risky and familes started buying the chosen boys to serve up

in the privacy of their homes. The funds raised were dumped into a scholarship fund to assist some of the smarter of the surviving youths to go to college. Since there were never enough boys for all those wishing one, the prices paid by successful bidders rose steadily higher and higher and by l970 the fund had developed into a major endowment providing full-ride scholarships to virtually all qualified graduates of the high school (at least the ones who avoided being eaten).

"That's what's kinda weird, dad," Erik said. "The kids all seem to think that it's worth the risk of the lottery for the good it does

for the rest of us...I mean...them. Most could never go to college without the fund's help."

I nodded.

"I can see their point in a way. Remember too, Erik, they grew up with this and are mentally and emotionally acclimated to the process. If you were reared by Nazis you'd grow up hating Jews and it would be hard to break that mold."

"Yeah," Erik nodded. "And the guys say it's no big deal. If you get chosen, it's no different than maybe a military draft where some guys get sent off to die and others don't. It's just your lot in life."

"Well, one in ten chances aren't all that awful anyway. How many eighteen year old guys are there in town for this year?"

"Probably two hundred at most. Only twenty will wind up as entrees. So what's the big problem, son?"

He gulped.

"The guys are asking me if I'm gonna participate this year. It...uh...sorta determines your social standing and acceptance

in school. If you don't participate in the lottery, you're looked on as either a coward or a real outsider and you get pretty much frozen out of everything."

I sighed.

"Yeah, small towns, especially isolated places like Cotter's Gap, are like that. It's hard to be accepted even for adults, so I can imagine what the kids in school would be like."

I had relocated my tiny family to get a fresh start after a series of disastrous business ventures and the untimely death of my wife. The service station that had come up for sale in "The Gap" seemed a good prospect and I had uprooted Erik and his older brothers Ryan and Mark and brought them here. I knew it was important to establish a good, trusting relationship with the townspeople as fast as possible if my business was to succeed.

"What do you want to do, Erik?"

"I...I'd like to take the chance, dad. It doesn't scare me really. Even if I get drawn, well, hell, I coulda just gotten killed in a car wreck or something. We all die eventually. At least this would be for a good cause. They say the best healthy jock guys bring really high prices for the scholarship fund...way overpriced like the prize calves at a 4-H auction. As big and husky as I am, I bet I'd bring the best price in the auction! That's really a big deal with every guy in the lockerroom bragging about how much his body's worth."

I tried to keep a straight face. It was amazing how young human males can make a competition out of every aspect of their existence!

I told Erik I'd have to think about it and talk it over with his brothers as well. It was only fair they have their say in the discussion. He agreed that was reasonable. As he walked away, he gave me a little grin.

"I know you love me, dad, and that's so great, but remember that eventually a father's gotta let a son make his own decisions in life and that includes taking risks. I hope you'll let me go into the lottery. Remember too that if I don't get chosen, I become eligible

for a full-ride scholarship for college."

I did discuss it with Ryan, who was twenty, and Mark who was twenty-two. Both, like Erik, were husky jocks and dare-devils. They saw no reason why Erik shouldn't take his chances with his new classmates if that was what it took to fit in.

"I don't want my fuckin' little brother having a reputation as a coward or shit like that," Ryan snorted.

Mark agreed with that but I could tell as well that he was turned on at the power trip inherent in the very concept of engaging in cannibalism.

Well, secretly, so was I!

I tossed and turned all night and even became sexually aroused at the thought of butchering and cooking a teenaged hunk. I'd never killed before and the thought excited me a lot. By dawn, the risk of losing Erik, who was, after all, only a third son and therefore pretty expendable, was far outweighed by my strong desire to be accepted in the community...and to be able to participate in the auction. So at breakfast, I informed the boys I was giving Erik permission. Erik, beaming like a cheshire cat, could hardly wait to get to school and tell his buddies the great news. Mark and Ryan made me promise I'd get them a boy for dinner no matter the price.

"We'll contribute to the cost from our new jobs," they offered and I knew that signalled how eager they were for the unusual experience. They didn't make much and were pretty careful how they spent their few bucks.

It was amazing how fast word got out that we were "good people." My business quickly boomed and a delegation of town elders stopped by to be sure they had understood correctly that we were participating in the "tradition." They were clearly unhappy that I'd learned the secret but relieved it had turned out so well.

I had a couple of eighteeners working for me at the station and as the day for the lottery approached I was almost ashamed at how

I found myself staring at those nubile, athletic bodies and imagining how they would taste. Once you got used to the idea of killing and eating a perfectly healthy adolescent boy, behavior encouraged in this town, it was amazing how much appeal it had!

Part Two - "Rodney"

The lottery was to be conducted on the Saturday before Thanksgiving and the auction that Sunday evening in the high school gym. Some of the purchasers had slow cooking processes they employed and wanted to get their boys several days before the feast. If you didn't want yours that soon, you could return him to his family and pick him up whenever you were ready.

Of course, since I was known to be a real novice at all this, I got lots of welcome advice from my customers. There was actually a manual on the various ways to slaughter the kid and clean the carcass, as well as several clandestine cookbooks circulating in the community. I was furnished with all of these and read eagerly, educating myself.

A few days before the lottery, after Clem Biggins paid for his gas he paused to chat, his eighteen year old son Rod standing beside him looking bored. The kid was a fine, strapping youngster, tall, and muscular, obviously a fine athlete. He had an unruly mop of silky black hair, blue eyes and a boyishly cute but tough-looking young face.

"So you're gonna try to buy yourself a boy in the auction?"

"Yes, sir," I nodded. "I figured I'd give it a try."

"You won't be sorry! They make great eating. Lots of left-overs too. A big kid like my Rodney here will provide good meals for weeks after Thanksgiving if someone's lucky enough to get him. Be sure you have room in your freezer."

I glanced at the boy. Now that the discussion concerned him he was no longer looking bored. His blue eyes focused on me with open curiosity.

"I can see your dad's point, Rod. If you don't mind my saying so, you do have some pretty impressive looking meat on your frame and it looks nice and tender."

Rod managed a wry little smile and a shrug.

"I guess. Actually, if I get picked, whoever buys me has a treat coming. My old man's been preparing me just in case."

"Well," Clem smiled, "All I been doin' is keeping him on a diet of fruit, milk, honey and juices for the past couple of weeks. That will really make his meat sweet. Also haven't let him exercise as much as normal to ever so slightly soften him and marble him

with just a tinge of fat. I'd appreciate the dad of a boy I bought being considerate like that. Just seems like the right way to be. You know...neighborly."

"The cookbooks say the best parts of a boy are the pecs, thighs and butt. What do you think makes the best eating, Mr. Biggins?"

"Oh, no question. Those parts are good all right, specially the pecs, but here's the best of all."

He reached down and pulled up Rod's tee shirt to bare the boy's flat, firm belly. The jock hunk cooperatively looped the shirt up around the back of his neck to keep his front upper body exposed for me.

"Run your hand over that. See how, even though its hard, there's a nice springy give to it? In a well built boy, the little fat

gravitates here. All the meat from Rod's belly area will cook up so damned tender it'll melt in your mouth!"

Running my palms firmly over Rod's smooth, warm skin and palpitating the abs, I sensed what Clem was telling me was right. The teen opened his pants so I could check out his gut all the way down into his thick thatch of pubic hair. As finely toned and sculpted as it was, there was still that lucious springy quality from groin to sternum.

"Let me show you something real nice with Rod. Take a look at these calves of his!"

Rod, with a good-natured little grin, shrugged, dropped his pants, and stepped free of one leg, planting his sandalled feet almost obscenely far apart as I knelt down to grope and evaluate the fleshy bulge of the furry calves. It was a little like browsing through meat in a supermarket looking for the nicest cuts.

"A lot of folks will tell you just discard the lower legs and feet. That's ridiculous. Sure it's sinewy, but those muscles make the goddamnedest best jerky you can imagine! And Rod has about the best legs of any boy in this town. Tell you what. If he gets picked and you buy him, you get me the meat from those calves there as well as his arms and back muscles and I'll turn it into jerky for you. Got my own special recipe. We had one of his basketball teammates last year, one of his buddies I'd had an eye on. Rod took his jerky to school for a snack for months afterwards, isn't that right, Rodney?"

"Yeah," Rod nodded eagerly. "That was Paul Edwards. The jerky pa made outa his tougher parts tasted just great. I got real good back muscles for jerky too, so a buyer'd get more than just my big calves for that."

He turned and I admired his broad shoulders and veeing back, checking him out with my hands. I was impressed at how heavy and deep his muscles there were. Indeed Rod would be a lucious prize to win. I'd noticed how he bulged out the pouch in his white cotton briefs and lightly tapped the great curve of one of the outlined balls.

"Looks like your boy's got a nice pair of these. I hadn't thought about eating those but I saw several recipes for them that sound pretty good."

"Oh my yes! I have my own recipe for slow braising them in a lemon-garlic sauce. I'll have Rod drop it off tomorrow after school for you. The bigger they are, of course, the better. Unfortunately you won't find many boys quite as big as Rod."

The teen thumbed out the elastic band of his briefs and let me reach in to roll his huge orbs around with my fingers.

"My God," I gasped. "Those things are just incredible! They're twice as big as my own son's and I thought Erik was big down there."

I thought Clem was was going to burst with pride at my words. He stared at me for a bit then obviously made a decision.

"I'll tell you what, Mr. Martin. I like your attitude and honesty. You're gonna be a fine addition to our little town. You get yourself

a boy...look for good calves and a good back...and I'll do his jerky for you, even if it aint Rodney. You can share some with me if you've a mind to."

I was delighted.

"How kind of you, Mr. Biggins..."

He waived a hand.

"I aint finished. I'll send the recipe for braised balls like I said, but I'll tell you what. If Rodney isn't chosen in the lottery, as a little welcoming gift you can nut Rodney and use them to test out the recipe even before Thanksgiving. The first time you taste balls

you really ought to have the very best and largest available. Rod don't need those damned big things of his anyway. Last thing we need around here's more babies. I got plenty of sons anyhow for that, though I already cut the balls off one of them a few months ago to serve up for his Aunt Maude as a special surprise on her fiftieth birthday."

Rod, not seeming at all upset at his dad's freewheeling generosity with his body parts, chuckled.

"That was pretty funny. Pa nutted Tom long enough before the birthday dinner that he could recover and actually serve up his

own balls to Aunt Maude, all steamy and yummy on a bed of rice with the sauce and juices bubbling all over it. Tom was real big, of course. All us boys are in our family."

I thanked Clem sincerely for his amazing generosity and decided I was going to really like living in Cotter's Gap. Rod gave me a friendly little wave as they drove off. I liked the boy a lot and his dad was sure right about his being one prime meat animal if someone was lucky enough to bag him. Just slaughtering young Rodney would provide a whole lot of fun.

The next afternoon, Rod delivered the recipe and stood looking over my shoulder as I eagerly studied it.

"See there," he pointed out. "You tie the balls off real tight with a rubber band and inject the lemon and spice mixture into each

one while they're still attached so the blood circulates it evenly all through the nut. After a couple of minutes you go ahead and cut them out. You can ice the things down if you need to, but they're best when fresh so you won't wanta nut me until just before you're ready to cook my orbs. If I don't get selected in the lottery, I'll be available anytime from Sunday on."

"Sounds like plan," I beamed at the boy. "If you do get chosen in the lottery, Rod, I don't care what it costs, I'm buying you! I'm not letting anyone else have the pleasure of putting those gorgeous legs of yours to use or enjoying that sweet belly meat you got hiding under your shirt."

"Wow!" he gasped in pleasure. "I sure hope now I get chosen, but even if not, at least you get my my balls. Pa cooked up my buddy Paul's nuts last year just for me. Boy were they great. He let me inject Paul and do the cutting while he was still alive which made it a lot of fun too. He squealed pretty loud though I imagine I'll probably squeal too. I don't think a guy can avoid it when he's nutted."

He pulled down his pants and briefs and fisted his huge gonads, stretching out the ample sac, studying his equipment..

"I've gotten pretty fond of these big things after eighteen years," he sniggered, "But balls like these just sorta scream out to get eaten, huh?"

"They sure do," I agreed, again rolling the massive seeders around in my fingers, practically salivating at the prospect of devouring them.

"It'd be selfish as hell of me not to give them to you, huh?"

"Very, very selfish," I agreed.

I squeezed his nuts in my hand until he gasped and flinched.

"And very disobedient. Your daddy said I could have them."

"Well, I'm not a selfish boy and I sure as hell do whatever my pa wants. Honestly, though, the way you were salivating over those big fuckers yesturday, I was kinda thinkin' maybe I'd sneak down here some afternoon after school and let you nut 'em out even before pa said to do it. I could see how much you'd enjoy eatin' them and that made me just itch to give 'em to you. And I got a little secret to tell you," he almost whispered conspiratorially as he reholstered his sex organs in his briefs and buttoned his pants.

"One of the big drawbacks to eating balls is that as great as they taste, there's not much of them. So I talked last night to my cousin Johnny and my older brother Zeb. They're both twenty and near as big down there as me. Since the idea is to make a Biggins' family welcoming gift to you, I'm trying to talk them into letting you nut them too so you can enjoy a good supper instead of just a snack."

As he left he turned with a grin.

"I was talking to your son Erik today at school in the lockerroom. We were comparin' nuts. He says you started him last night on a diet of just fruit, honey, milk and juices and told him to stop exercising until after the lottery. That's way cool, though he seemed a little pissed."

"Yeah," I nodded, "He's a meat and potatoes type, but he understands that we want to have him tasting as good as we can just in case he's chosen. We wanta be neighborly."

The day before the lottery, Zeb Biggins showed up at the station. I knew who the magnificent jock hunk was before he extended a strong hand to shake. He was the image of little brother Rod fully matured into handsome manhood, with even the same mop of silky dark hair that somehow always looked like he'd just awakened from a restless night, but was sexy as hell. I think they styled it that way on purpose.

"So," he said after a little small talk, "My pa's gonna have you dine on my kid brother's big balls."

I swallowed, idly wondering if that had Zeb pissed off. Judging from those bicepses, the guy could kill with one blow. But I finally nodded.

"Your dad is a very generous man. But I guess he's done this sort of thing before."

"Oh...yeah. That thing with Tom. Yeah that was really something. Maude actually cried she was so happy, hugging Tom and all before settling in and devouring those big, steamy balls of his while he watched with a silly grin just as proud as could be. You ever tasted balls done using my old man's recipe?"

"I haven't had the pleasure yet, but I'm sure as hell looking forward to it."

"You know, Rod's been pestering the shit outa me and my cousin Johnny to let you nut us too. While we were wasted last night, we couldn't think of a single reason not to go along with Rod."

"But after you sobered up, you realized it was a crazy idea?"

"Fuck no!" He laughed. "We still couldn't think of even one reason not to. Can you think of any?"

I smiled. "Certainly not."

"Let's not wait until Thanksgiving. If we have a few days to recover, we can probably still enjoy our own feast, sore though we may be. Sunday night, we're gonna throw a 'balls off'' party for any of our buddies who agree to come and get wasted on pot with us. Any dude still there at ten p.m. is fair game. Here's an extra key to my apartment. You and Rod be there at a minute after ten to harvest the balls of every mother's son you find in the place. No exceptions."

"I'm glad Rod's gonna help. I've never done a castration before."

"It's actually real easy," Zeb allowed, dropping his pants and sliding his briefs to his knees, baring a set of gonads every bit as big as Rod's, maybe bigger.

"You just slit the sac open all down the front, right here."

He used a fingertip as an imaginary knife and ran it down the center front of his bulging, low-slung scrotum. That was just sexy as hell and it didn't hurt that his big cock was jutting out in full erection.

"There's an inner sac you gotta slit open too. Then you can easily haul out first one nut, then the other and clamp off the connectors before snipping off the ball itself. You heat a little piece of wire in a flame and use it to cauterize the connectors before releasing them. My pa will come over at eleven to sew up our sacs and doctor us, he's real good at that."

He tucked those big goose-eggs of his back away and was gone.

Part Three - "The Purchase"

Rodney wasn't selected. I'd had my heart set on slaughtering and eating the boy and I was bitterly disappointed. They read the list of selectees in alphabetical order and when they reached the cees without calling his name he turned from where he was standing, caught my eye and gave a little shrug. I was sure he could read the chargin in my face and he mouthed the words.

"Fuck! I'm sure sorry!"

They reached the letter M and I tensed a bit, but Erik wasn't selected either. There was a sort of hero stature that came with being drawn as you had the chance to display courage on your ensuing trip to the dining room table. I detected Erik was slightly disappointed at being denied the opportunity to prove his manhood. He was a class act and I was very proud of him.

The auction proved just as exciting as I had expected from past accounts. The twenty-three boys up for sale were displayed in the gym all afternoon for examination by prospective bidders. Since there were women present, the boys wore thin cotton g-strings but the tight, bulging pouches left little to the imagination. There was a good mix of body types and size, with some of the smaller kids looking way younger than their age and the brawny, buff jocks older. Each wore a number tag around his neck that signalled the order in which he would be sold.

I browsed them all but promptly narrowed the field to twelve boys who looked to be the best specimens and spent more time scrutinizing the lush curves and slabs of toned, lean flesh gracing their bodies. I had a harder time when I had my field down to four, all really prime jocks, delicious looking animals with lots of good meat. This "shopping" period was really a lot of fun. The crowd was in high spirits and there was a lot of laughter and banter, much of it ribald as the merits of the "goods"on display were openly discussed. The boys showed a lot of spunk too, posturing and flexing for the pleasure of the crowd and urging people to bid on them, telling them how well they'd cook up and what a delicious feast they would provide their buyer.


There was a reason for that competitive attitude among the selected "meaters." The family of the boy bringing top dollar today would get a thousand dollar award for their "excellence in breeding."

I kept coming back to number sixteen. He was just perfect. He was a apparantly a B-ball jock as he sat on his display area toying with a basketball as a stage prop. It was a clever ploy as it somehow emphasized his "all-American" boyishness. I finally decided. Number sixteen was definitely coming to my house for Thanksgiving dinner.

The bidding was spirited, congenial and brisk. Even the smaller, slimmer boys brought good prices, none less than eighteen hundred dollars. I saw my neighbor Hank Barlow, a young construction foreman, successfully get a petite, cute, smaller boy. Hank expressly wanted a smaller kid because he didn't serve his guys up for Thanksgiving but instead slow-smoked the carcass whole for a prolonged period. A smaller boy, he had found, smoked up better than the bulkier young bulls. I went over and congratulated him and took a closer look at what he called his "fawn."

Hank had a good eye. The boy actually was in fine condition with a deceptively good rack of meat on his slim frame. From his muscle tone I had a hunch he was a wrestler. I plumped his firm, flat belly and squeezed his pecs and thighs. Definitely nice texture. I was almost sorry I hadn't bid on the little doll.

"I'll want to get him in the smokehouse pretty quick," Hank told me, an affectionate arm around the teen's smooth shoulders.

"Stop over for a beer tomorrow afternoon about one if you want to watch me slaughter him."

That sounded like great fun and I promptly agreed. I complimented Hank on his excellent choice once again and turned my attention back to the continuing auction.

The bigger slabs of living meat were bringing over three thousand dollars on average. I didn't bother to bid at all. I was waiting for number sixteen.

They were up to number fourteen, a stocky bull with short-buzzed bronze hair, an incredible chest and thickly muscled thighs. As soon as he mounted the foot high wooden block to be sold he started flexing and turning his body to display its superb muscle structure. The curving outline of his nearly erect cock looked like it was about to rip its way right out of the g-string pouch

between his thighs and there was a pronounced wet spot over the head where he'd been drooling pre-cum....a real crowd pleaser.

The auctioneer was good as he prattled his barker's lines.

"Tommy Dillingsworth, ladies and gentlemen, our number fourteen tonight. Dine on royalty! He was this year's homecoming king at Cotter's Gap High School! A hundred eighty pounds of pure, clean jock muscle. If you went to the football games, you saw him in action on the field and know why he made all-state! This beefy boy is a real prize, folks, and I'll tell you a secret. He's got two exceptionally big seeders lurking in that pouch between his legs that's gonna give some lucky buyer a real cullinary treat! Just imagine cooking those things up!"

That brought laughter and ribald comments.

"Pan fry them in wine sauce!"

"No way! Candy them and serve 'em sliced as an appetizer."

"Steam them right in the scrotum!"

Bidding was brisk on handsome Tommy and swiftly rose on the digital display counter behind him. Each person raising the bid got a cute, pleased nod and grin from the boy and he mouthed the word "Thanks!"

Tommy fetched fifty-six hundred dollars when the gavel finally came down, the high so far for a boy this year. The number fifteen boy was another fine hunk but he didn't quite match Tommy's price.

Finally, number sixteen mounted the dais in all his dazzling boyish charm and with that tall, full-muscled body that just screamed EAT ME. The sudden storm of eager signalling hands made it clear he was the prize of the auction. I didn't even join the bidding until it passed the five grand mark, but then I was in for the duration. This was my boy and I was determined to have him.

It took a while for me to outlast the other determined bidders, but finally the gavel slammed down.

"Six thousand, one hundred twenty-five dollars, ladies and gentlemen," the auctioneer jubilantly roared. "I think we just determined this year's best of show!"

The crowd agreed with its energetic applause and cheers.

I was the proud owner of Tim Bergner, captain of the basketball squad from Cotter's Gap High School and last year's junior prom king. There was a little ceremony to award his parents their prize and then they walked their beaming son over to meet me. Tim jutted out a hand.

"Thanks for going that high for me, Mr. Martin. I was really flattered. That's a lot of money. I hope to provide excellent dining pleasure for you to justify it."

I had no doubt he would do exactly that as I eyed his wonderfully sculpted abs and bulging pecs. I noted his thick back muscles and rugged calves too, realizing what a copious supply of jerky Clem Biggins would produce from those. Even the boy's ruggedly pumped bicepses would provide wonderful small roasts rather than just scrap meat as with so many eighteeners. I couldn't help salivating as I ran my eyes over his lucious flesh.

His parents looked very pleased and proud and effusively thanked me for buying their son. Mr. Bergner clamped a a congratulatory hand on Tim's broad shoulder.

"Best of show! I'll be damned, son, I didn't know you had that in you. I'm so proud of you!"

"Yes, sir," Tim beamed, dimples popping across his cheeks. "I wanted to jump up and down and scream with joy as soon as my bids went over Tommy's at the fifty-six hundred dollar mark. I knew I was worth more than him even if he did beat me out for homecoming king."

His smiling photo would replace last year's top earner in the main hallway of the high school.

I told them that they could keep Tim until Wednesday and then I'd pick him up. The Bergners volunteered to save me the trouble by bringing him to me instead. His dad cleared his throat.

"You might have noticed that my son has particularly large, well-formed nipples. You haven't seen it yet but he's also blessed with a really large penis that is beautifully formed. I'm a taxidermist by trade and I wondered if you might like some trophies to help you remember him. I believe he'll be your first Thanksgiving boy?"

I was deeply touched by the man's decency and consideration.

"Yes, he is my first and I'd love to have some trophies. What did you have in mind?"

"I've thought for a long time that Tim's nipples would look great mounted back to back on a small circle of leather to serve as the dangle for a key chain."

We took a closer look together at Tim's chest decorations and I could see Mr. Bergner had hit the nail on the head. I told him the key chain idea was excellent. He traced a little circle around one of his son's big, rubbery tits with a finger.

"Be sure you take a small ring of chest skin all around the corona of each nipple when you cut them off. Tim, take off that silly strap and show Mr.Martin that magnificent penis of yours. In fact, play with it and get it good and hard so he can see how big it really is, especially the way the crown head of the thing flares out.

Tim cooperatively followed his dad's instructions, looking only mildly embarrassed at all this attention to his most private body parts. He really was wonderfully hung.

"Oh wow," I gasped suddenly, tremendously pleased. "He's got such a great low-hanging scrotal bag. I've heard of some buyers' having ones like that tanned into little leather pouches."

Tim fisted his ample nuts and stretched the sac as far out from his crotch as he could so I could admire the thing.

"See how big it really is," he said proudly. "It'd make a great pouch!"

His dad looked real happy.

"As you'd expect, I've tanned quite a few scrotal sacs around here. I think you'll be pleased at what I do with Tim's. When you remove it, though, be sure to get all of it by cutting way up high around the edge of the groin and cockroot where it connects."

"You mentioned doing something with his penis? It is a real beauty. What'd you have in mind for it?"

"A couple of choices. I could create a cute sort of rabbit's foot mirror dangle for your car out of that flared crown head and first inch or so of shaft, or preserve the entire organ in an erect state by inserting soft plastic fill into the blood sacs and encasing it in a plastic matrix to use as a paperweight.

The thought of having Tim's big cock sitting on my desk in perpetual erection really appealed to me and his dad agreed to produce the trophy for me, obviously pleased and proud to have produced such a fine young stud.

With that they left with Tim and I sought out Rodney who was waiting at my car in the parking lot. He glanced at his watch and grinned.

It was 9:37.

"I hope," he said, "That you've built up a good appetite?"

"I'm famished," I assured him truthfully, "And there's only one food in all the world that will satisfy that hunger."

"I just bet I know what that is!" He laughed and gave his crotch a playful little grope. "I can only provide a nice contribution to your supper tonight but I sure as fuck know where we'll find the raw material to complete the meal. It'll be ten by the time we reach Zeb's apartment. Let's go see how many hairy young jock crotches he's scared up for us to harvest!"

Part Four - "Castration Orgy"

At precisely one minute after ten, I turned the key in the lock at Zeb's apartment, a shade nervous but keyed up with excited anticipation.

Marijuana smoke was heavy in the air, which I had expected. I hate drugs personally but in this case the more stoned he and Johnny were, probably the better, considering what I was about to do to them.

Zeb was leaning against the wall in the entry area, naked as the day he was born and looking way too wobbly to support himself. A still smoldering joint lay on the linoleum at his feet, scorching the vinyl. His cock was jutting up in powerful erection and with a start I realized he was getting off on all this as much as I was! Boy was that nice! A silly grin played over his handsome face and he reached down and cupped his balls and thrust them out towards me.

"Bout time," he giggled, "I got something here for you, man. Come get these bad boys. I was scared shitless you'd changed your mind about cuttin' the som-bitches off!"

Zeb's eyes didn't seem to quite be focusing and I guided him to a chair, supporting him in my arms. I was startled at how much I enjoyed the warmth radiating from him, the smoothness of his skin and the hard corded strength of the underlying muscle. This was quite a man. I even enjoyed the musky male aroma of his naked body and it was making my own cock hard as a rock. I'd never had a gay experience but was beginning to wonder if I'd been missing something. I whispered in his ear, even as I reached down and closed my trembling hand around his balls.

"I've never had the pleasure of castrating another man, Zeb. For it to be a stud as hung as you is incredible. I've been looking forward to it so much there's no way in hell I would have changed my mind. These fuckers are definitely coming off of you tonight!"

To my surprise and pleasure, he managed to give me a clumsy little hug back and even a litle peck on the cheek with his moist lips.

"Tha's sooo great, dude. Make it hurt real bad when you do it. It's sooo much fun nuttin' another dude. Pa's let me do it before."

He giggled again,

"I creamed in my fuckin' pants the first time I nutted a dude!"

Rod had grabbed the joint and disposed of it before returning to survey his buff older brother's naked form.

"I been fantasizing about his losing those huge rocks ever since I was a little boy. I can't believe I'm finally going to get to see it happen."

Zeb, stoned and giggly, cooperated gamely as Rod pulled his powerful arms behind his back and secured the wrists with slide-lock nylon-cord manacles. He used a second set of the rope restraints to hobble his brother's thick ankles together.

We found a dark-haired demi-god sprawled on the living room floor about half out of it. He was also naked and sported balls of monstrous size. God did they look delicious! This was clearly Johnny who just dumbly cooperated as we restrained his limbs. It's kind of funny in retrospect that I don't think I heard this boy say a single word that entire evening. He screamed when we castrated his young ass but I don't think that counts.

Rod pulled a thin rubber cord from his pocket and fisted his cousin's huge rocks, forcing them to swell out the bottom of his ample sac.

"I might as well go ahead and put the ligature on him to get him ready to have his nuts injected." He bound the band tightly around the top of the bulging scrotum and tied it off, effectively strangling the gonads. At once

Johnnie's big sex pole filled with blood and stood up at full attention. That was a nice touch.


In the bedroom, a golden blond bull of a kid, about twenty, was on the bed, shirtless and barefooted, the vee of his white cords open and his huge, erect cock jutting from the piss slit of his boxers. The boy had just finished masturbating and his rod was still drooling a thick strand of cum. He looked up with a guilty little grin.

"Oops, busted!" he snickered, "I been bein' a naughty boy."

I sat beside him on the bed and ran an admiring hand over the hunk's broad, smooth chest, pausing to lightly pinch the big nipples.

"What would your name be?"

"Jordan Johnson. My buds call me Jordie. If you wanna be my bud you can call me Jordie."

"I'd love to be your bud, Jordie."

I smiled into the beaming, half-addled face beneath the silky bronze mane spilling about his head,

"But we just have to do something about this problem of you jerking off like this."

"Yeah!" he nodded vigorously. "Say, I got really big, juicy balls. You wanna see 'em?"

He started tugging at his pants but was too impaired. He lay back and giggled again.

"Damn. I can't even get my pants off. Will you help me? Want you to see those big balls I told you I got. Buds don't mind seein' each other's crotches. You can even touch my cock if you want."

I worked his pants and boxers off and he eagerly splayed his muscular legs and thrust up his pelvis to proudly display his hairy man center in all its naked glory. He wasn't lying. He really was well equipped. Not quite on the scale of Clem Biggins' boys, but really respectable. I especially liked the silky soft delicacy of his scrotum as it seemed to just glow in its healthy pinkness, each huge gonad starkly outlined in the thin skin of the nearly transparant sac. What a gorgeous sight!

I gently guided one wrist behind his back and slipped the first noose of the restraints around it. He didn't resist as I finished securing his arms but as I bound his ankles he asked me what I was doing.

"I'm tying you up a little, Jordie."

"Why you wanna do that, bud?"

I caressed his golden head and gave him a little kiss on his forehead, then gazed into the misty half-vacant blue eyes at close quarters.

"Because I'm going to take those big balls of yours off. I'm going to nut you, Jordie."

"Cool, dude! That'll stop my fuckin' ass from jerkin' off and makin' lil' messes all the time! Whatcha gonna do with my big, fuckin' balls. Flush the fuckers down the toilet?"

"I plan to cook them and eat them."

His eyes lit up.

"Oh yeah! I remember now. Tha's why I'm here. You're gonna eat Zeb's too He talked me into lettin' you have mine. That'll take care of that masturbatin' crap, though, huh?"

I laughed. This was so much fun.

"Yeah, Jordie, I just bet it will."

While he watched, still giggling, I looped a ligature tightly around his sex orbs and tied it off. Almost at once the sac began to redden deeply.

"Don't you wander off," I told him, leaning down and lightly rubbing noses with him. "If you just wait here a bit I'll come get you and we'll cut your balls off for you. Is that a deal?"

He giggled and beamed an dazzling little boy smile.

"Tha's a deal, dude! You're silly. I like you."

"Hey," Rod called out. "Looky what I found in the bathroom!"

A slim, blond muscular younger boy was passed out on the floor.

"Hobie Johnson," he said. "He shouldn't be here. He's just a junior in high school."

He returned to the bedroom.

"Jordan, wake up and pay attention to me. What's your little brother doing here?"

Jordie opened his eyes and struggled to comprehend. Rod shook him.

"Hobie's in the bathroom. Why's he here?"

"The lil' fart's still here? Well fuck. I thought he left with the others. Chicken mothers, all of 'em, wantin' to keep their precious fuckin' balls. Well, too fuckin' bad for Hobie. The brat's carrying a pretty big pair in his pants. Maybe you better nut him and eat

his balls too. Next time the brat'll fuckin' do as I tell him."

Although the prospect of castrating the pretty-faced blond sweetheart sprawling on the bathroom floor was pretty exciting, I

knew Rod was right when he responded to that suggestion.

"Can't do it," Rod shook his head, "Much as I'd like to. He's under age. His pa could make big trouble for us."

We looked up the number in the phone book and called Tom Johnson, whom I knew as a customer at the station. He had seemed like a friendly, pleasant man and I hoped he wouldn't go too ballistic about where Hobie was. When he came on the line I explained the deal I had made with Zeb and that I had Jordie over here and planned on castrating him.

"Well, I'll be damned!" Johnson said. "I'm pretty proud of Jordon for this. He hasn't shown much gumption and this gives me some hope. Maybe after you've nutted him, he'll settle down and get a job. I'm tired of feeding his useless face without him trying to help support himself."

"Well, why I really called is that Hobie is over here too, all stoned up. You probably ought to come pick the boy up."

"Why would I want to do that? Didn't you say Clem Biggins is going to clean them up after you've taken off their balls? Castrate both their asses and ask him to drop my two off on his way home. He comes right by here."

"Shit, Tom, I'd love to nut Hobie too, which seems to be okay by you, but there is the legal problem. He is under-age."

He laughed,

"Well, parental consent would probably cover that, but as it happens the stupid little shit turned eighteen last week so he's perfectly legal meat, so to speak. Both of those boys are damn well hung and I've thought those big, lucious balls of theirs would sure make good eating for someone. Go ahead and nut Hobie too. Thanks for calling. I've got to get back to my tv program."


We stripped Hobie and secured his limbs. I tied the ligature around his nice set of seeders just as tight as I could to strangle them and we carted his limp form to the kitchen table for his operation. He really was remarkably big between his golden furred thighs and the attention to his genitals induced a powerfully throbbing erection as he began to wake up.

"Uh, wha's happening, dude, I passed out. Hey, I'm all tied up. What's comin' down....uh."

He spotted the equipment laid out on the table beside him.. His baby blues cleared and widened as comprehension sank in. It didn't take a sober genius to realize the meaning of the burning candle, the piece of cauterizing wire with a jerry-rigged insulated handle, the spring-loaded surgical clamps and the razor-edged knife. He must have then suddenly felt the burning throb between his legs and glanced down at his darkening, strangled balls, heavily outlined in his sac for harvesting. I thought he was going to cry.

"It's after ten isn't it? Fuck! I knew you were gonna cut out Jordie's balls tonight and Johnnie's and Zeb's, but you can't have mine. I was supposed to go home but I just smoked too much and passed out in the john. Let me go. I'm...I'm underaged! You can't cut me legally!"

"Nice try, Hobie," Rod chuckled.

He was waving the driver's license we had shagged from his wallet,

"This and your old man both say you're perfectly legal...five days past the big one eight."

" talked to my dad? Wh...what'd he say?"

"He told me to go ahead and nut your furry young ass, Hobie." I told him.

"Shit! I'm fucked then aren't I?"

He plopped his head down on the table, sighed and finally shrugged.

"What the hell, then. Let's get it on, dudes. Just do it."

And he gamely bent and spread his knees to give unhindered access to his big family jewels.

I took his balls in hand as Rod handed me the syringe he had just filled with the lemon and spice marinade mix and positioned the needle over Hobie's left testicle. He raised his head to watch, flinching as I drove the needle into his ball and injected several cc's

of the liquid. After a moment the beautiful teen gasped like he'd beeen gut punched, then cried out sharply in pain.

"Oh fuck! That stuff hurts! burns something awful!"

I injected the other ball. He cried out again as the lemon juice and spices coursed through it with excrucuating effect. I hadn't expected just the injection to cause such suffering and was delighted. This was even more exciting and satisfying than I had fantasized.

"Hang in there." Rod told the slowly writhing boy on the table. "We only have to let it simmer around for a couple of minutes,

then we can slit open the sac."

If that was meant to reasure Hobie, it failed miserably. He just moaned louder.

I watched as Rod took the refilled syringe and went to Johnnie. The bound boy uttered a strangled little cry of pain as his balls were shot full of the searing mixture. Then he refilled it and went to his hunk brother.

"Shot time, big bro. Damn those big things look good! I wish I was the one getting to eat them. I've watched you in the shower for years imagining how good your big nads would taste using pa's recipe and jerked off night after night imaging that someday I'd get to see you get nutted."

Zeb's reply was purely physical. He parted his thighs widely and thrust out his crotch. Without hesitation Rod jabbed the needle deep into Zeb's right nut and gave it a liberal dose of the basting fluid. After shooting up his brother's other gonad, he refilled the syringe one last time and handed it to me.

"I'll let you have the pleasure of poking Jordie's golden orbs."

I went into the bedroom and displayed the syringe to the blond stud.

"Jordie, bud, would it be okay if I shot some of this stuff into your balls? It's lemon juice and spices and will make them taste a lot nicer when I cook them later. How 'bout it. Can I do that?"

"Sure can!"

He eagerly splayed his legs.

"Fill those fucker's on up with that stuff. Bet it hurts real bad, huh?"

He watched with curious interest as I slid the needle into his first ball, stiffening with the sting. As the heat and pain began to throb out from between his thighs, he writhed and gritted his teeth.

"I heard Hobie squealing out there. I figured this would hurt like a mother. You already nutted my little brother?"

I drove the needle into his other ball and emptied the syringe into it, then rose from his side.

"We're gonna open up his nut sac now. You want to watch?"

"Fuck, yeah! I'd love that. You really are a buddy!"

We carried Jordie out and positioned him so that he could get a good view as Hobie underwent his castration. Zeb and Johnnie were curious too and watching helped take their minds off the tingling pain as the lemon juice saturated their balls, softening and ruining them. Once the needle went in, there was no longer any choice. With the mix injected, the balls had to come off and soon. If that stuff got into their main blood stream it'd kill 'em dead.

I played student as Rod did Hobie. He deftly, confidently slit open the teen's bag right down the centerline then slit the sleek, glistening inner pouch. The boy yelped like a kicked puppy and writhed around. He really squealed when Rod heated the wire and burn-cauterized the bleeding edges of the cut. He then fished inside the opened scrotum and pulled out one of the twin orbs. Using one of the surgical clamps, he sealed the veins and tubes running up into Hobie's groin before the knife flashed again and he raised the severed ball in his fingers for me to admire. After using the glowing wire to sear the ends of the severed connectors, he released the clamp and fished out the second nut. The process was repeated. Rod had taken his time but it still took less than five minutes to relieve Hobie of his balls. I guess I'd always imagined it would somehow be a more complex process. Although the boy had writhed and moaned continuously and tears were streaming over his downy cheeks, he never actually screamed.

Jordan went onto the table next and I felt a tingle of deep thrill run up my spine as I drove in the point of the knife and drew it all down the front of his scrotum. He moaned and his body contracted powerfully.

"Oooh, shit, bud, that hurts like a mother-fucker! But slow down. Drag it out and enjoy it. I know you're gettin' off on this. I sure as fuck would be. It's cool. Make me hurt as much as possible. I can handle it. That's why I got my ass so fuckin' stoned...I wanted to give you a fuckin' good time. I only get to do this once after all."

Christ was the kid talkative but I kinda liked it. He was like a damned cheerleader urging me on! I wondered if he was as likable when he wasn't stoned. I'd have to look him up and do something nice later on to show my appreciation for his neat, plucky performance tonight.

I slowly slit the inner sac, cauterized the bleeding cut, and inserted my fingers into the opening. I was startled at how cozy, moist and warm that felt up inside him. I guided one of the balls on out through the incision and played with it for a while, jerking and tugging at it and watching the way Jordie's buff body squirmed and flexed as he uttered grunting snorts, wheezes and squeals of pain. Then I went ahead and removed it, following the steps I had just learned watching Rod castrate Hobie. Out came the second ball and moments later the older of the Johnson boys had been fully nutted.

I was really enjoying this and Rod had me also do both Johnnie and Zeb, leaning in close over my shoulder to miss nothing as I very slowly cut open his brother's ample ball bag. After I had taken off one of the big orbs, I handed him the knife.

"Unless I am sadly mistaken, there should be one more ball lurking inside his sac. How about getting rid of it for me?"

Rod's face lit up like the fourth of July and I could see how deeply pleased he was. His eyes radiated his gratitude.

"Yes sir, I think I can manage to do that for you!"

There was just something so erotic about watching a guy castrate his own brother. The thought had passed through my mind early on to have Jordie nut young Hobie for us but the older boy was so stoned he probably would have done serious damage to the squirt's crotch structure. Hobie wouldn't have been any more steady if I'd sicced him on Jordie's balls with the knife. Oh well.

After Rod finished nutting Zeb, taking his sweet time and savoring every second, we untied them all and left. Clem Biggins would be by shortly to give them necessary medical care including suturing up their empty sacs. I had told Rod I wanted to remove his balls in private at my house where I could take my time and enjoy it. He had laughed.

"Well, the fresher the balls, the nicer the taste and texture and I guess mine will be about as fresh as they come. Out of my fuckin' scrotum and right into the oven!

Part Five - "Swap and chop"

Leaving the building. we encountered Caleb and he examined our catch of fresh, warm balls with approval.

"You're gonna love these. So you got those Johnson boys too? Good of Zeb to arrange that."

It was easy to spot Zeb's severed orbs as they were the largest and Clem examined them closely with curiosity. Returning them he spoke in a confidential tone.

"Say, Mr. Martin. I wonder if you might consider a proposition. I don't know if you realized it but the bidding for the better boys tonight went so high that I didn't buy one. I won't cook up an inferior kid, but this will be the first time in years we haven't served boy at Thanksgiving and I know the family is going to be really disappointed. It's technically against the rules to serve up a boy who didn't go through the auction, but there's no reason anyone need ever know. If you would think about it, I'd swap you that fine boy you bought for Rodney here. Rod will probably be better tasting and more tender anyway since I took so much trouble to have him perfectly prepared for eating just in case."

"Mr. Biggins, I don't even have to think about it. I've wanted to eat Rod ever since I met him and was really disappointed when he didn't get chosen in the lottery. You've bred out some really spectacular meaters. If Zeb ever became available, my God how I'd love to dine off of him! I know he's a couple of years older than normal and thus supposedly less tender, but I don't buy that for a minute having had a chance to check him out tonight. I suspect he may be carrying the best meat of any boy in town."

I saw Clem's eyes get damp with emotion at my words and he nodded, his voice choked.

"Thanks for saying that. A father loves hearing his boys praised."

"Ahem," Rod cleared his throat. "I think you meant to say the second best meat of any boy in town."

I laughed and nodded.

"Oh, of course! Sorry about that."

"Good. We needed a little attitude adjustment here. After all, I got some say in all this swappin' business, don't I? I don't know I'd want to be eaten by a man who thought I was second best."

I got serious and put an arm around his broad shoulders.

"Kidding aside, it's gotta be your call, Rod. Truthfully, I'd understand if you didn't want to..."

"Now you gotta be kidding!" he interrupted me with unconcealed glee. " This is exactly what I was hoping might happen when pa didn't buy a guy tonight! I won't see my family disappointed for anything and Tim will be perfect for them. I would be deeply honored if you're willing to accept my meat in return."

"Then it's settled!"

Clem was obviously delighted.

"Just bring Tim over to my place quietly after his parents bring him to you Wednesday and Rod will be waiting. Of course, I'm sure you still want to go ahead and nut him tonight..."

"Actually, I don't. I think I'll have him come home with me to help cook up these balls, but for some reason it appeals to me to have him whole when it comes time to slaughter him Wednesday."

The truth was, I liked Rod enough that I didn't want him in pain for the three days he had before I killed him. I think he realized my real motivation and as soon as we were alone he gave me a big bear hug.

My three boys were away at some concert, so we had the place to ourselves as Rod guided me through his dad's recipe in preparing the eight fresh balls. I insisted he join me in dining on the finished product. I put four of the steaming, savory nuts on each plate

on a bed of wild rice garnished with freshly cooked carrots, broccoli and stewed tomatoes and decanted a nice white wine. The little feast proved even more heavenly than I had been lead to expect.

I got a somewhat bizarre satisfaction from watching Rod slowly devour one of his older brother's big orbs, taking tiny little slices and letting them just melt away in his mouth, his face betraying how much he relished it. He caught me watching and I got a big boyish grin as a reward.

When we were done, he wiped his mouth, leaned back in his chair and looked hard at me.

"How soon will your sons be home?"

"Not until the dawn."

"Tell me, Mr. Martin. Would you ever consider accepting some real good head from an eighteen year old boy to get you heated up to butt fuck his ass nice and deep?"

I somehow wasn't even startled. I nodded without hesitation.

"I've never had gay sex. I never thought I'd enjoy it while I was married but with my wife dead...well, the thought has crossed my mind that I might like to try it. I will confess your brother, cousin and the Johnson boys made me pretty hot between my legs tonight."

"That was only a little obvious from the way you were toying around with that dumb shit Jordie. Can I give you a little confession?"

I nodded.

"I've fucked Hobie a few times in the lockerroom at school."

I was startled. Then it dawned on me that Rod had at first pretty actively tried to save the blond pup's crotch from the knife and I felt guilty.

"Christ, Rod! What didn't you say something! If I'd known he meant something to you, I'd never..."

He raised his hands and grinned.

"It's cool. It wasn't any big deal and now I'm glad we did him. Ultimately, pleasing you was a lot more important to me than saving his ass and I really had no idea he'd turned eighteen already. That made a big difference in how I felt. And, yeah, the scene in the apartment made me just hornier than a toad too."

He rose and reached out a hand for mine.

"Let's go find your bed, Mr. Martin. There are things I want to teach you."

And he was a hell of a good instructor. My boys would have been stunned beyond words if thay had walked in on our steamy mating.

With the dawn he went home and we agreed not to see each other again until Wednesday. He suggested I should not let myself get too emotionally attached to him and I knew he was quite right, but I certainly had no regrets about that night. I also knew I would have no difficulty in killing him whenthe time came. In fact, oddly, if anything the prospect was somehow even more exciting and erotic.

I hadn't forgotten Hank Barlow's kind offer to watch him off the small blond boy he had purchased and I was there promptly at one. I had not decided how I was going to put Rod to death Wednesday and was interested in how different familes around town performed the killing. He had the promised beer, ice-cold, and had been plying Kevin Ort, the golden-haired puppy, with booze for a long enough time that the kid was giggly and unable to even stand up. He was sure cute as he sat nude at the kitchen table sloshing beer over his chin as he attempted to drink from the bottle in his hand. He may have been small in body but he was sure hung well and my mouth watered at the size of his big delicious-looking balls outlined in their silken pink sac.

"Always get 'em drunk just before the killing," Hank grinned. "Makes 'em less fidgety and maybe a little happier. I don't do it real fast like some buyers cause I like to see 'em suffer a little longer."

"How do you do it?" I asked.

"Hey, I'll show you! We're ready so lets just go ahead and snuff the little dude right now."

He picked up the naked boy like a doll in his cradled arms and carried him outside to the back yard. The lad was almost comatose from his drinking and lay limp and peaceful in Hank's arms, looking even smaller than he was against the tall bulk of his owner. Hank was a giant of a man. 

There was a sandy pit towards the back fence with a hooked chain dangling from a post. A large metal drum, lined with plastic, stood waiting and a water hose with the nozzle ending in a strange-looking muzzle equipped with straps.

Hank deposited Kevin on the floor of the pit and bound the boy's ankles together and his wrists behind his back. About then a loud shriek echoed from nearby and more of the shrill cries continued to rent the air.

I was startled.

"What the hell?"

Hank laughed,

"Right on schedule. Gabe Andrews butchers his buy early like I do, usually about the same time. He guts his boy alive and just lets him die when he gets around to it as his innards are cleaned out. At least I don't do that."

I shuddered a little. The thought of subjecting Rodney to such an excruciating end almost made me ill. I was glad he hadn't been in the auction and purchased by Gabe! After a while the screams from the Andrews' yard abruptly ceased. In the meantime I watched as Hank strapped the muzzle on the hose around Kevin's mouth and nose.

"The hose nozzle protrudes down into his mouth and the rubber gasket lining the mask sealing his mouth and nostrils leaves no place for the water to go except down his throat. It doesn't really take that long for him to drown, just two or three minutes really, but it's fun to watch and seems like a really unpleasant death. Something else is kinda fun here. A lot of the time you can get the

kid to cum while he'd drowning. If you'd like to give it a try, I'll do him real slow with the water until you see if he'll get off."

It did sound like fun and I reached between Kevin's smooth thighs and took his rod in hand. It was already half hard just from his being tied up. That is so erotic to most guys. Under my gentle urgings it quickly hardened into steely erection.

Hank turned on the faucet and water began moving through the hose, just as a trickle at first, then with increasing strength as he continued to gradually increase the flow.. Kevin seemed to jolt out of his stupor and those blue eyes widened in shock and surprise. A tiny trickle of the water did seep from the edge of the mask where it didn't seal quite right but the bulk was being forced into the boy's belly and lungs.

About the time the water was really gushing into him, he did reach a deeply spurting orgasm into my stroking fist! Wow, Pretty incredible.


The youth flexed and writhed and his muscles corded like steel. He made desperate muffled gurgling noises and tried to gag, his body wracked by convulsions. After a couple of minutes his resistence faltered and he just lay there with little spasms flickering through his relaxing form, his eyes staring ahead in a dull, empty fixed gaze. Hank shut off the hose and waited a short while before checking for a pulse. After he was satisfied the heart indeed had stopped he removed the execution device.

I helped him hang the boy's carcass upside down by his ankles on the hook and watched carefully as he first carved away the genital package, then gutted the body and dumped the entrails into the waiting barrel. As he slit open the distended belly the accumulated water and beer gushed out in a powerfyl stream. He lopped the arms off at the elbows and beheaded and skinned him. He lowered the glistening cleaned corpse onto a plastic tarp before lopping off the feet just above the ankles and I helped him cart it to the smokehouse to hang by a hook to begin the cooking process.

All in all, I had enjoyed seeing Kevin's termination and dressing-out but I think I determined then that Rod would die as quickly as possible when his time came. I guess I was more squeamish than I thought, or maybe just liked Rod enough to want to be merciful.

Wednesday came quickly enough and at mid-morning Tim Bergner was delivered by his smiling, proud parents. His dad gave me a coy grin as he ripped away his son's boxers, his only clothing.

"I've already gotten everything laid out to work on preserving his trophies. I intend to really produce nice pieces for you. I'm really excited about working on my own son and sure can't thank you enough for making that long-time fantasy of mine come true."

They just waived good-bye to Tim and were gone.

As soon as they departed I explained the swap arangement to Tim. Not that it mattered what he thought but he was actually perfectly agreeable to the deal. Within the hour I had him at Clem's place, Rod waiting for me clad just in cotton shorts and sandals. Clem asked if I wanted to stay and watch Tim's killing as it would be carried out at once. Of course I stayed.

They had a thick post embedded in the ground out by the barn with a small gallows arm jutting out close to the top. A noose was already dangling, swaying slightly in the breeze. His arms bound behind him, Tim perched on a small stool so that the noose could be snugged around his throat and then the stool was pulled from under his feet to let him hang by his neck and slowly strangle.


I'd never seen a hanging before and it was fascinating to watch how the boy suffered and kicked and danced for a remarkably long time. His strangulation became arousing to him and he actually had a pretty impressive orgasm before he died! That was enjoyable to witness.

While we stood watching Tim's slow death struggle, Rod asked me if I knew yet how I was going to kill him.

"I'm going to do it just like you do a chicken. I'm going to chop your head off. That seems the fastest, least painful method."

"Hey! We used to do it that way. It was just a coupla years ago we built this little gallows thing. Hang on, we still have the axe. I'll go sharpen it up and you can use it."

It was a handsome axe, the broad-bladed double-headed type used by lumberjacks. Tim was getting pretty close to gone so I had Rod hop into my truck, tossed the axe in back, and we took off for home. Before leaving I gor Clem to promise to trophy Tim's cock, ball sac and nipples for me for his dad to turn into toys and he assured he would.

Once home I took the boy around back where I had positioned a heavy square block of hardwood to use for the chopping. My sons, demonstrating a squeamish disposition that surprised me, had opted not to witness the actual killing though they were willing to clean the carcass for me and butcher it into the various cuts of meat.

Rod stripped off his shorts and I noticed his cock was swollen in nearly full erection.

"You want to pop it off one last time?" I suggested.

"Sure," his eyes brightened. "I'd like that if we have the time?"

"No, we're okay on time. Go ahead and enjoy yourself."

I watched with my own lusts fired to a heady fury as he sat on the edge of the beheading block and slowly stroked his ample equipment. As he got close, he seemed to subconciously reach out and wrap his hand around the handle of the axe leaning against the block and squeezed and stroked it lovingly. It was sensuous as hell when he did that, heavy with suggestion that he was getting off contemplating his imminent beheading! Finally his pulsing organ repeatedly spat its thick dollops of cream far out from his gut.

I wanted him at least hobbled in case of some last minute panic on his part. He kicked off his sandals, lay down by the stump, and calmly watched as I looped the rope around his ankles and tied it off.

I had him then position his head over the chopping block and picked up the axe.

"Snug your chin just over the edge to arch the back of your neck and expose it fully. Yeah, that's great! Just hold that position and be perfectly still."

I raised the axe high over my head, the trajectory carefully aimed. I'd been practicing with my own axe for two days and gotten damned good at accuracy with the blows.

"Rod," I said, "You're a hell of a fine man. It's been a pleasure to have known you."

"Thanks," he said, even as the axe whistled down.


The loud thunk of the steel blade impacting the block echoed in the bright sunlight. With a thick splatter of blood, Rod's severed head tumbled violently forward off the stump. 


  His roasts, chops and steaks cooked up wonderfully and the boys and I agreed that we would never again want turkey for Thanksgiving. I had thought the stock of his meat in the freezer woiuld last longer, but I guess with four healthy male appetites relishing the new taste treat, it wasn't surprising that by mid-December it was pretty well gone.

I might add that Tim Berner's dad brought by the trophies in early December and he had done a marvellous job with them.

How well I remember that unusually mild, sunny Saturday a few days before Christmas. The boys were off somewhere, probably doing something that I wouldn't want to know about, when the doorbell rang. I was truly startled at the gorgeous sight that greeted my eyes, recognizing the blond adonis standing there in cut-offs and sandals before he spoke.

"Hi, Mr. Martin, I'm Karl Biggins, and my pa said I should come meet you. I turned eighteen last week, too late for this year but I'll be in next year's lottery. He figures that you might like to do the same arrangement with him that you did with Rod this year. You buy a boy and swap him for me if I don't get into the auction. If I do, well I guess you both have to just buy what you can."

Karl was one of just two blonds among Clem's original army of ten robust sons , reduced now to nine, and I had admired the golden-haired lad during Tim's hanging. Now, seeing him mostly unclothed, I knew that if he did make the auction I didn't care the price...he would be mine. I told him that and that he should tell his dad the swap was definitely "on" otherwise. That seemed to please Karl.

"Rod told me that you and he...well...kinda did some things together that last Saturday night over here. It'd be cool by me if you wanted to do those things with me. Might even be nicer. Rod was just bi, I'm outright gay, though that's a secret between us. Pa definitely wouldn't approve! Call next time you're gonna be alone overnight. In the meantime, I got this for you from my pa."

I opened the envelope he handed me.

Dear Mr. Martin:

The kindness you showed my family in swapping your prize winning boy for my Rodney enabled us to have a truly wonderful holiday. I also appreciated your decency in sending those checks for $300 each to Zeb and each of the Johnson boys. Like Zeb, Hobie and Jordie recovered well and swiftly from their castrations and Jordie apparantly plans to stop by shortly to show his gratitude in some way that he didn't explain. Then came the startling note from you advising me that I get free gas and car service this entire year! You are indeed going to be a wonderful addition to our big extended "family"here in Cotter's Gap. I cannot allow this generosity on your part to go unanswered. I hope you will accept the token of our thanks that Karl will deliver to you with this note and that it will make Christmas at your house a bit more joyous.


Clement "Clem" Biggins

"Well," I looked at Karl puzzled. "What's this gift he refers to?"

The boy grinned impishly and looked excited.

"C'mon out and I'll show you!"

I followed him out and to my shocked delight there stood Zeb Biggins leaning against his family's truck naked as a jaybird except for the big red ribbon tied around his muscular neck. Karl reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out a shiny new axe identical to the one I had returned to Clem after using it to behead Rod. A ribbon bedecked its handle.

"I know I aint no eighteener," Zeb apologized, "But Pa told me you thought I'd still make good eatin' and that you'd sure like to have my ass. When he was trying to figure out what he could give you as a thank-you gift, I suggested me."

I glanced between his thighs expecting to see a shriveled empty scrotal sac. Instead it bulged as big as before but with the raw, fresh zippered scar running down its centerline. He saw where I was looking and grinned.

"Pa inserted a pair of plastic fake nuts in all four of our bags when he cleaned us up and sewed the slits shut. You can't tell much difference but for the scar. We're taking artificial hormone pills from a cousin who's a medic and I got my first post-nutting erection just a couple of nights ago. Got off pretty good actually...dry of course...although I am still pretty tender down there."

"Uh, Mr. Martin?" Karl swallowed and looked a little embarrassed. "I know it sounds kinda bad but if you're gonna chop my big brother right away, there any chance..."

"Of you staying to watch? Sure. And we might as well do it right now and get it done. My boys'll be home in an hour or two and can get to work cleaning and dressing the carcass."

I swiftly changed to shorts...blood splatters you know...and looped an affectionate arm around his shoulders as I led Zeb to the chopping block out back. He all but rubbed noses with me as he leaned his muzzle close to whisper.

"Pa had a meeting with all the younger boys coming up over the next six years, including the two sets of twins, and they all understand that aint none of them gonna last past eighteen. He figures he has a great, lasting arrangement going with you. The big question I guess is in the years when the twins are up for the lottery, you gonna want both? Pa'll be askin' you that."

"Of course. Wouldn't want to break up matched pairs!" I whispered back.

Zeb was very cooperative and the new axe was razor-honed. Karl tutored me anxiously.

"Zeb's got a real thick, bull-strong neck. You're gonna have to whack him real hard, Mr. Martin!"

"I know, Karl, I know."


Zeb's head came off smooth as silk with one chop. Karl retrieved his brother's head and held it up by the hair to admire it with open curiosity.

He fairly casually tossed it into the trash bin and before he left I couldn't resist pulling open his cut-offs to take a peek. Yep!

Hung just as big as his older brothers! Those wonderful, big-hung Biggins boys were really something!

The next day I had a long talk with my two oldest sons and then we all ganged up on Erik to convince him to do the right thing for the honor of the family. A few hours later, I delivered him to the Biggins place, naked, arms tied behind his back, a red bow about his neck. Clem tried to politely decline the gift as unnecessary but I could see how pleased he was and I insisted he accept him. Erik gamely urged it as well, posturing to show off his fine rack of sweet, tender-looking young meat.

At his invitation, I stayed around and watched as the ribbon around Erik's neck was replaced by the coarse hemp noose of the Biggins' gallows post. Erik reached a fine orgasm as he was hanged and lasted for the longest time as we all stood there enjoying some of the fine jerky that Clem had made from Rod's stringier meat. When Clem openly admired Erik's bulging jock calves and complimented me on his excellent, meaty young body, I felt so proud.

Clem's right. It does feel good for a father to hear nice things said about his son!

Before I left, I whispered to Karl that tonight would be a great time for him to visit my place behind his pa's back.

"Good," he whispered back, groping my crotch. "I'm in the mood to suck cock and I sure as hell am in the mood to get fucked nice and long and hard and deep."

Hmmm...should I really be playing with my food like this?

And on the trip home I was struck by the very nice thought that I still had two fine sons at home...a bit older than "normal" for eating, but still really fine specimens. I'd have to see which of my customers I wanted to curry favor with!