Production Line

Gents Meat Market

A Family Affair

Frosty put a large manila envelope on Bill’s desk. “Sorry, it got into general mail, why it was opened. Personal, addressed to you.”

Looked up at him while he held it… “You seen what’s in it?”

“Oh Yeah….you ain’t NEVER gonna get much mail like this, fact is, this is a first…. probably the last….”

The contents, one black and white, 8 by 10, picture, slid onto the blotter in front of him.

“Jesus.”

“And then some.” The two men looked at each other.

The picture was of five men, naked except for their cowboy boots and hats, sitting on a fence rail, not looking at the camera but each one languidly holding their ball sack. No way you could miss that.

“Uh….”

“Yeah, Uh….guess our writer buddy had a good time.”

“Seems so, told me he was going to go home, tell his Dad about us….course I  kidded him about wanting a complete family set of balls….maybe this is the way I’m going to get ‘em.”

The men looked at the picture. “No airbrushing….”

“Nope, who’d bother? When you’re hung like that….even their cocks….”

Bill laughed, “Ya know, he said as a family it was worth seeing….made good on his word.”

“What about his other word? The one where he had your name inked on his scrotum? Plus the snake coming out of his piss slit, Buzz still has a picture of that on his wall. What did that mean? Come back and give you what you want….if that’s what you want?”

Bill looked down then up…. “I don’t... really…. know. A man comes here for a coupla hours to get material for a story….then stays ten days.”

Frosty looked at him. “You want him back? There’s a promise in ink there, those balls are yours….Look at the picture.”

“Doesn’t mean I want ‘em off him, may just want...him.”

“Yeah, we’ll you’ll never get ‘Property Of” on them..Don’t think that what he thinks, no way, you want him smoothed out, just like the rest of us…’member what you said? ‘Can’t work here an’ have balls…’”

Bill thought about Buzz who while great with ink and a needle, pushed the fact that he was there all the time ….balls and all. It’s the sort of ‘reminder’ you can’t say too often without expecting some sort of reaction, maybe only getting slugged in ‘em every so often, but something that hinted that this was a topic you could bring up too often.

From right to left every man, except Butch, held something that had very few purposes, most of them, only one. The oldest man, the father, Jake was written under him, held a big, long knife, sometimes known as a skinning knife, one of his fingers was going down the blade which was lightly almost sunk in the top of his hard cock. This was THE father, no question, nothing but all stud male from the shag on his taut chest to his strong thighs, abs like a hairy piece of corrugated tin….all male but even that word seems too...weak. He was mostly….. animal, least ways the better parts.

Butch, the man who’d been there, just held his nuts so you could see part of the ink. Next to him, his brother, Bull, the oldest, an elastrator fully opened, a  taut green rubber circle all ready to close. Horse simply had his hand on his chin which was on a burdizzo that rested easily on his thigh. Finally, Colt,  called ‘Pony on occasion, the youngest, somewhat like his brother next to him, one hand balancing the blade of a pair of pruning shears, clearly with very sharp blades.

All four men, the sons, were individually put together in some form of their Dad. Butch had told Bill that none of them had the same mother, he wanted four bastards and in doing so found four women who gave him what he wanted, studs, almost the animal their father was just not quite. Looking at the sons you could see some ethnicity, one, the last, Pony, had Latin all over him. Black hair, eyes, almost a cruciform of  black hair on his olive skin colored chest from juicy hard tipped nipple to juicy hard tipped nipple that led down to a set of cock and balls hidden in a bush of luxuriant, soft, black wool. Easy to see how running your finger down from his sternum into the concealed, waving fur of his crotch to find thick meat below which depended two succulent testes, tightly held up but so big, the sack almost popped open. In the picture he almost had to yank them forward to be seen. He, and his brother, Horse, had been kept back, were the farm hands and, it was apparent, it had been hard work done wearing very little...barely even a slight white shadow of where ever a jock might have been, rarely, worn. Only on Bull, a white cock, clearly something kept in a steel cage until  his father wanted it for himself or had been released here only for the photo.

Horse was the polar opposite. If his Ma hadn’t been pure Viking or Nordic... just no other possibility. His blond hair, in the sun forever, was now silver, kept long, mid back, taut braided with a leather thong finally ending in a metal piece wound through with another staff of metal,  probably a knife. Where Pony almost didn’t have a visible chest due to the fur, Horse had no hair save almost a straight line from his navel to his cock. Again, the reverse of his brother, his nuts hung down, heavily tanned as was his heavily veined stalk. His eyes….some were frightened of them...so lacking in color, the blue so faint they could be mistaken for a man putting a Viking curse on you but unlike his  obviously muscled brother, his muscles conformed to the Viking standard, long extended, hard. He was the tallest, almost as tall as his father.

Bull, the oldest…..was from something wild, a gypsy in a cage, held down by her brothers, having accepted money from the big man with the big cock, so he could rape her. The deal included at least five penetrations, plus she was held, effectively in slavery, until she had the kid. Jake got what he wanted; The result had the same fierceness, wild hair, huge body, instantly seen as a man who worked and then worked some more. Never at peace. As Butch had told Bill, this was the first brother his father  had fucked and, he knew, the one he continued to prefer to fuck. Also the only one who could fuck him but only after he fought him down, almost beat him, got him on the ground then stuck his flesh knife in him harder than a mahogany pole, just bigger. Jake, after it was over, would lay there, reach back, using his fingers, clean the thick, viscous fluid stopping only to let his son have a finger full. After that, man to man, sweat to sweat, they rolled around face to face, mouth to mouth until Bull stood up, pulled his Father after him then stood holding each other, hard cocks still coming out between their legs. Sometimes they stooped and sucked each other, sometimes they just took big, calloused hand then slowly beat each other off. They were almost mated, probably why that was the reason Jake kept him home and made the others go to work. It was also easily possible to guess that Bull didn’t mix well with strangers (or anyone for that...)-the expression about the customer being always right would not have had a place in his mindset. The customer being always beaten…..probably closer to reality. What Bull did do, apart from his father, Butch never mentioned….

“Jesus. I’m guessing this isn’t the sort of family picture you send at Christmas….or any other occasion.”

“Hallmark Never, Ever….”

While he said that, he popped the buttons on his jeans then hauled out his cock. Frosty joined him.  Both men were hard and needed to pause to stroke down their meat. Just to show respect for his boss, Frosty got down to suck him. Heat was too much,  both got up on the desk took the other man’s  burgeoning sausage in their mouth working to get the stream of man milk while pressing on the perineum to carry the message. With a picture like the one before them as encouragement, the Testosterone they used as a replacement for the vanished original source meant nothing; This was what porn tried to be and never could, reality. Real hot reality...and that picture was a lot more than just a memento, it was an invitation. One to be accepted.

It was easy to get to the hot spot under the prostate as neither man had balls. Smooth surfaces, only a very small scar, could have been a paper burn except that wasn’t where anyone got a paper burn, even that was concealed by hair that had grown in over the years since they both had their balls ripped off in prison. Violently in both cases, the sort of deed that leaves a man, well, maybe slightly warped...just enough so he could accept prisoners to his facility, cut open their scrotum then sell their testicles at a very high price to a very select, but eager, group of eaters. Few markets could keep their product in stock and, increasingly, they were getting private orders for significant numbers that almost cut out the more commercial vendors.

An obliging physician, the one who smoothed out their scars, kept them pumped full of Testosterone meaning that even though it looked like some of the basic equipment was missing and they were sterile, everything else was in championship form; The two guys played often and, sometimes, violently. No rule about getting slugged in the nuts as there were none. This fact wasn’t widely known, though it could have  been guessed based on their business, which meant in an unfair fight-which was about all they had, they never lost.

“Christ….I’m still horny.”

“Wanta fuck?.”

Bill rolled over, fast. “All the way, make me scream like my nuts were being cut...”

“Then you?”

“Oh, Yeah….Take you however you want it.”

“Stand that picture up where we can both see it….tell me that isn’t porn...all five of ‘em, they took that picture on purpose….damn nice of ‘em….”

Some while later sweaty, still on the verge of desire for….something they looked at the picture again.

“You gotta write a ‘Thank You’ note…..what’ll you say?”

“Be direct? Say, come on,  we got a space for you in our line up?”

“Nah, for them, if that’s even what they want, has to be special….and no selling those nuts, not even for a thousand each….”

“Ya know, Butch said something about a trophy, all five of ‘em, sacks and all,  course you’d have to put in prosthetics….:”

“Big ones.”

“Oh, absofuckinglutely. Big.” He was lost in thought, taking calipers to each man to get measurements for his new trophy case… Finally shook himself out of his thoughts.

“We’re crazy, that man, that stud, would never give up those balls, never. I know men and he’s no candidate.”

“Maybe give up all his kids nuts? One of ‘em is sorta pledged to you….”

“Yeah well…..” and remembered the young writer who came for a story, got it, but stayed on to be sucked and fucked by almost every man who worked for Bill. Course he did the same to them; It’s not always true that cowboys are horse cocked but he sure was. Like a stallion, almost couldn’t see anything, only items hanging were his nuts….BUT as he got aroused, just like a horse, his cock came down, the wrinkles  on it uncovering until, well, only one way to put it, ‘He was standing at stud.’ His smile when he crawled into bed each night with Bill only said… “What’ve you got for me?”

What he had was a wooden cross, just the size for a man to be tied to. Butch liked that, liked watching his balls, which hung down nicely, while a naked nutless man with a machete….sometimes let it slide across, creating just a line of blood. He would never have admitted it if he didn’t fall in love with the man waiting to whip or punish or put him through pain some way.

He wanted to keep him, somehow...maybe agree to some sort of….he had a thought...he could be this guys….property-seemed only right, owner had balls, property did not. Privately, no collars….well….Bill was lost in consideration……

He could see a scene, him whipped good, on his knees, tendrils of bloods seeping down his ass...Butch holding a solid steel collar….for him...forever. The scene went on….after the collar was secured, Butch, his Master, would sit, only cowboy boots, legs spread out and cut open his own nuts…..making his newly collared slave drink the blood, the fluid flowing from the ball sack, the nuts hanging from their cords...hanging, waiting for a man to lean forward and eat them...

That was enough imagining to send a flood of his own, spermless, brand of cum out his cock no matter where he was, what he was doing. Frosty, who’d heard the fantasy before, would reach down and simulate cutting...something off. Give him a lewd look, one that said…. “Okay, buddy, cut off that cock….see if that kid wants you nullified….”

Thinking about it made him cum, his eyes closed, one hand now holding the sack and the newly castrated balls of his man….Frosty watched, wondered...knew not to ask. He’d heard what his boss had on his mind, heard the fantasy, almost too hot, too unreal but...One thing he remembered, Bill had suggested he was tired of his cock, considered going full nullo….fuck, even though he didn’t like it, some guys out there probably would pay money for a man dick...the longer, the tougher the more they’d pay-stuffed, make a great coat hook. Maybe that’s what he’s thinking about. Got Frosty hot as well.

The last night Butch was visiting the ball factory, a man he hadn’t met came, screwed him then got down to business. First cuffing him then pulling his arms up taut, he got down to what he came to do. “Bill tells me you need some ink? That right? Something to remember your visit here? Guess he’s got something picked out for you.”

Putting on a tight cock ring, forcing the sack to become smooth, he shaved him then got out his tattoo gun…..just underneath….in a solid line, “BILL’S BALLS”. And, just below the ring, “Cut Here”. Bill stood watching as Butch accepted this marking, making him a candidate for gelding, leaving Bill’s name so he’d know who owned what. Butch was getting hot. He saw a brand, wondered.

Bill carefully held what were now almost his, at least he’d staked a claim to them.

“Want more ink? Buzz is the best….”

“Yeah….on the head of my cock, a snake coming out of the piss slit...”

Buzz laughed. “Great idea, my pleasure.” And to Bill. “If you can’t keep this one…..”

Almost axiomatically…. “He’s still got his balls…..you know the rules around here….”

“Guess that doesn’t apply to me either now does it?” He ran a finger over some work he’d done on Bill. “I still got mine…”

Bill looked at the ink artist…. “Yeah, you sure do….for now.”

Looking at Butch as he started what he knew would hurt like sin…. “Black and shaded or colors?”

“You’re artist, you pick the size, the color….”

Buzz gave him a  big smile. “Yes Sir, thanks for the artistic freedom. Now…:” He turned to Bill. “...get the fuck out while my canvas and I get to work.”

After Bill left Buzz put down his needle, looked at the young stud, put a cock  shaped gag in his mouth.

“You know what I want...don’t you.”

Butch blinked his eye.

“I like to torture a man before I ink him, makes him more aware and where you’re getting it, gotta be quite a man...but you are. Yep, I’m going to enjoy this. Get your cock ready.”

That said, he got into his tools and pulled out a long steel wand, known as a sound, stick ‘em down a cock. Butch watched as he took a tube of Icy Hot, greased the sound then slowly started it into his piss slit. Couldn’t take his eyes off the man, the tears, the thrashing. Shit, he knew how much it hurt...did it to himself now and again.

When the tool was completely in he grasped the cock hardened with steel then began to jack him off. Little by little the sound started out, finally falling to the floor followed by semen mixed with the scalding lotion.

“Okay, got you ready for the needle, after that, it’ll be a walk in the park.” Leaving the gag in, he picked up his tattoo gun, dipped in some color and stuck it in the edge of the piss slit to start the snake. As he worked he asked just one question: “You really gonna give ‘em to him?” Got no answer not even a look that gave a hint. The artist laughed. “You’re like me, keep him wanting and looking and hoping but…..uh uh...as they say in Honolulu, “Nevah Hoppen.”

Bill shrugged consoling himself with the idea he would see the finished product...yes he would and real soon, too.”

The morning he left, Bill kept him stripped and got out his camera. Buzz had done an exquisite job, beyond the label, the snake had an insidious quality. Came out of the slit, came down then wrapped itself around the fleshy stem from which depended Butch’s newly inked nuts. What made it unusual was that when you looked at it, you realized it was the head going into his cock, what was wound around was his tail. Buzz had mentioned that…..he could cut into the slit, open it, take the snake with a head, down into it then stitch him back up; Pointed out he’d done it before. Butch thought about  that but finally decided his pain quotient was limit up...however, as a ‘thank you’ to the man with the needle, he offered him his ass for as long as he wanted to keep his cock in it. An offer that was accepted. During all this, Bill sat in his office and wondered what the holy hell were they were doing? He wanted Butch, just as what he still wasn’t sure, the idea of being his property….What he knew was that this young man didn’t play,he’d already effectively given him his balls...if he offered his neck to be collared, that was it, he became property….just how much property, that was the sticking point. He wasn’t sure he could run his kind of business when it would be obvious to all the guys that his circumstance had changed, the man who had him...also still had a pair; That might not go down too good.

Elsewhere Buzz was jerking off to a picture of a man’s cock with a snake winding around it. It was a slow pull and shove, pull and shove while he contemplated the picture and wondered how soon that man would be back. He had some ideas for more work, one or two down right nasty-felt sure Bill would approve; As with every tat artist, he knew nobody got just one. Nobody. Look at Bill, after he had the prison shit covered, he couldn’t resist the pain and pleasure of the needle….Yep, Buzz did have ideas for him, too, ideas that might just involve another snake on another limb going down another hole. Then there was the father…..Buzz saw him as a primo canvas and one, he bet, who’d like whatever got put on him. Jake’s body was something to contemplate.. He smiled as he splattered on the floor….shame he didn’t have anyone trained to lick it up…

Just outside Hooker, Oklahoma Jake sat at his big desk, boots up, snap front shirt mostly undone, jeans their usual nicely bulged cock fully up. He had to tip his hat to Bill, he’d wondered what sort of letter he’d get back, or, slightest chance, he wouldn’t hear from the man but now...the envelope lay on his desk, the two sheets of paper in his hand. He had to admire the guy, it was at once direct while being careful, not in the sense of being evasive, just not quite going as far as he could tell he might have gone.

Paragraph One: Mentioned his son, mentioned what a fine man he was, did a good job, appreciated the story he’d written. Noticed it had  been well received….within a certain readership, as he noted, not the ‘Reader’s Digest” sort. Jake roared with laughter, imagining suburban prudes starting to read a story only to find, “Heaven’s to Betsy” it was about cutting, well, cutting mens… as they threw down the periodical, ashamed to have read that much but…..somehow curious as to what happened next? Jake knew something about human sneakiness so the craving to turn just one more page, get even more outraged….almost irresistible. At least until they finished it, threw it deep in the trash with a scandalized, “    Well, I never” fully intending to...maybe cancel their subscription. What Jake knew, as his son had told him, was that what was left out of the article would have rendered the too outwardly pure of mind dead….or at least on the floor shocked into fainting.

Paragraph two:  He’d notice that Butch had collected some decoration, suggested if he and/or his sons were ever in Kansas City and wanted some   really fine tattooing, he knew the man and the place. As to the sentiment expressed over his meat, it was asked for, not imposed. As a father, he would hope he approved not only of the words and what they meant but the man they memorialized; His son would only give something that sacred to a man he venerated. While Jake might, and did, wonder as to his reasons, that he’d done it was there to be seen.

Paragraph three: Great looking picture, he could certainly see how a man could be proud of his troop. He was direct now. As he was aware, he made his money selling men’s ball meat and if ever there was a quintet he’d like to acquire, he was looking at them, wondered what they be like in real life. While a picture was worth a thousand words, a look and a feel was worth more. His last line was that he knew nothing was for sale but he admired what he couldn’t have, hoped they’d come to town, be his pleasure to show them a good time.

Signed,

Yours Truly….

It would have rolled both guys with laughter on the floor if they’d known just a little bit more about the other. In similar businesses, testicles formed the basis for what each man did, but only one knew the real extent of that; Jake. He knew Bill sold guys gonads, frozen, packaged, here and there were ads for them, if not, to some, the most respectable business, depending on how you viewed it, all legal, profitable, some even said performed a service, if castrating prisoners could be said to be a service. Whatever it was, it was legal and there was a market for the product, mens’ ball meat.

Fine. Outside Hooker, Oklahoma (Their town motto was “It’s a location, not a vocation”) where Jake had his ranch, he, too was more than interested in testicles but he needed his to be attached to be valuable. He was in the business of selling bull semen, very profitable and, in it’s own way, he was even more intensely interested in balls than Bill; He only cut ‘em off and sold them, Jake had a year round preoccupation in whether his meat stayed well, productive, kept the sperm count up...anyone who thought all you needed to make money in the bull semen business was have a bull and someone to occasionally jack it off, put the product in a vial, seal it, chill it and send it off to a buyer had never been in the business. And...if they thought milking a bull was as easy as laying back in their easy chair, a beer in one hand, their cock in another and some game on television….had never so much as touched the cock of a bull who, in general, did not like their private parts fucked with and had painful ways of protesting.

Bull semen was all well and good but better was man semen. He’d read about fertility clinics where men, who met certain standards, could come in, leave a ‘deposit’ of their own which would be frozen. Couples, who found the husband sterile or the carrier of something that made his cum a poor choice for insemination, could come in, pretty much specify what they wanted in term of looks, education etc. then buy some guys jizz which was put in the lady, object, make a baby. At one point he knew he had fertility on the hoof with his own set of guys heavily balled, not to mention his own hanging garden of sperm, but then he read the rules and what it took to be a donor. Right up front you had to be able to provide information about both parents which wasn’t really possible considering all their mothers had  been were  brood mares and who the fuck knew where they were now or, even when he knocked them up, much about them except they were what he wanted to produce his diverse group of sons. To save time, he put down each birthday as the 30th of June-easier to remember also, he was the party who was half of his sons-their mothers? Two had died but he supplied pictures and supplemental data. In all this he took advantage of something a man already selling semen would know; If it looks good on the outside, that’s half the sale. Pictures of his sons completed the transaction. He was a clever man, rather than selling his kids jizz up front, he waited until a certain type was wanted then supplied the needed sealed, frozen bottle of sperm along with a date of donation, spermatozoa count at harvest as well as the signature of the donor with a note hoping the couple who were in need would find his product useful.

Jake enjoyed writing those notes….meant every word of ‘em too.

That was that in so far as the over the counter, correct way of selling man milk. In only one area did legalities concern him; The purity of the bull semen he was selling that had to come with paperwork, stud book registry, in short what was required of every breeder or anyone having to do with the  breeding business.

Jake was on good terms with most of his clients, they’d drop by when they were in the area, have a drink, accept his hospitality for the night which could include, if they wanted it, getting to fuck, or fucked by, one of his sons, their choice. Cowboys were used to, but did not particularly care for, nights out on the range alone with just their hand so Jake and his boys were a welcome diversion-it was made clear there was nothing they couldn’t or wouldn’t do. The question of money? For a guest? Hogwash. No one would have offended him by offering money for their services but….it had been suggested that there were places, names were given, where having one of his boys standing at stud could be….profitable. Just not in his home for a guest. However not a few wives or girlfriends were shocked when their husband or boyfriend brought home a ‘buddy’ from Hooker with the specific object of knocking them up. Jake charged the men who ‘borrowed’ a son the same price as he would for loaning out one of his bulls, even guaranteed the results. Three or four months later? No bun in the oven? Simple; Send the previous visitor back or, buyer’s choice, another one just to make sure.

One guest, more involved with cum than the others, asked if he could maybe milk a son or two a couple of times, take it along for his own uses….Jake was given to understand that cum, half and half , plus Bourbon made a mighty fine drink. You could add ice, run it through a blender, then have yourself a man cum smoothy, just add a sprig of parsley or mint. Your choice. He still took his drink straight with a beer back but, hell, if the guy wanted milk from one of his kids, and the price was right, no problem; In his home it was free but as with all good take out places, there was a charge, no tip needed.

One thing Well, there could be a problem if someone wanted Bull; He knew how hard it was for him, his father, to get him so he could be screwed but a stranger? Wanting to milk him? He wanted that on tape-probably keep him laughing for hours. Particularly since he knew whose milk would finally get jerked from him and it wasn’t Bull. Fact was when his eldest finished ‘playing’ if the guy was still even fertile, or had the zygote filled orbs attached, he’d be lucky; They could ask if Bull was available but the only answer was laughter….

Rotten day. Bill was staggering up his stairs, naked, wet straight from the locker room, holding a file dumped on him by some creep from a prison which needed a signature, still slippery, Frosty was  behind him when he took a flop on a riser. THAT’S when the phone in his office started to ring. One thing, that phone only rang if it was important so Frosty hopped over his swearing buddy/boss on the staircase to grab the receiver before whoever it was hung up. All he could pant out was, “Yeah?”

There was as short laugh. “Bill that you? Guess you almost didn’t make it. This is Jake, I own the kid who has your name inked on his nuts….just called to see how things were, yammer a bit at ya…..”

...which is where Frosty finally found his tongue and hastily explained who he was, Bill was almost there, just hang on, he KNEW he’d want to talk to him.

Bill staggered over, dropping the file to see Frosty, his hand over the receiver and making those motions with his eyes and other hand that this call is REAL important, he knew he’d want to take it. As he accepted the receiver he gave Frosty the curious look.

“Okay, sorry, it’s Bill….who’s this?”

Laughter. The sort that seems like the guy has a good sense of humor. “Well, lets say my son has your name on his balls…..that a hint?”

“Shit, Jake? That you?”

“Nobody else…..I have the feeling I’ve interrupted….”

“Nah, just went ass over tea kettle on the stairs…..Good to have you call, looked forward to, somehow, meeting you. Thanks for the ring.”

He finally got seated; Frosty got him a large towel knowing this call might go on and it was chilly in the room. Also, normal curiosity, he wondered what the call was about? Men like this did NOT  call to get the weather in K. C. Never.

“Hey, my kid wants to drop by, see you….that’d be Butch….”
“I hoped….”

“Right partial to you. Smart kid, if he’s your buddy well, count on me to be another one….” He changed topics. “Glad you got the picture, meet the whole damn tribe, can’t say we held anything back...” that good friendly, rich laugh again. “Thought about having it larger and in color but the guy who took it said….just the way it was, for an introduction as it were, was good enough.”

“Can’t disagree, already got it framed, put in my real private office...”

More laughter. “You hung in your can? That private office?”

Bill chortled, already he was looking forward to meeting this man.

“Nah, just the one where very few people go, just me, Frosty-Butch mention him?-one or two other guys…..that picture is on a ‘need to know’ basis. Can’t have guys standing around with their tongue and dicks hanging out….even if there isn’t carpet, someone has to lick up the mess…..guess you’d agree on that.”

“Yep, that’s how it is here, blow it on the floor, get down there and play like your tongue is a floor waxer.” Bill almost went backwards too far with laughter and dumped himself on the floor.

Frosty could tell these two men were on the cusp of being buddies which led to being friends which led to being real close friends. He thought about Jake’s cock, in the picture, knew Bill would not object to seeing if he could take it all, mouth or ass….

“Guess you might wonder why I’m calling...well, it’s about a trip I gotta make, thought I’d drop in to do the meet an’ greet shit….”

“Be great…..”

“Thought I might bring a son or two...guess you can figure at least one of ‘em….the other? Well…..”

“Bring ‘em all, you know all of you’d be more ‘n welcome, see the facility, take the tour….”

“Be part of the process? Could you throw that in? Always thought that experience was the best teacher….”

Bill was suddenly so hard his cock almost lifted his desk. “Well, a, sure, a….Jake….serious here now….I don’t want to read what you’re saying any other way than you mean it…

“Lets put it this way….I’m in the meat business myself, sell bull semen ‘n I maybe got an old bull needs to be steered. Think you could handle that….”

“Sure…...but...listen buddy, I’m thinking about that picture….if there’s an old bull in it, must be hidden some place cuz….not one set of low hangers in it looks to be in need of removal….”

“Even the pair with your name on ‘em?”

Bill almost laughed. “You think they’re on an old stallion?”

“No, that pair is spoken for….when you want ‘em, well, that’s between you and the meat they hang from. Lets look each other in the eye….we will for sure real soon enough…..you want my kid for more than a few bites of freshly harvested nut meat….if I was you, I’d brand him….explain some of what….kinda avoid saying ‘being your property’ means….if that’s what you had in mind for him...only you and him know that.”

Silence. Both ends.

Bill thought about his fantasy, the one where Butch put a collar on him, became his master….He found himself….got out of it…

“Jake, ah, first thing has to be with Butch is….he’s gotta be here an plan on staying; After that, well….however if I keep him, you know he’ll be well kept...” Then threw something else in. “Even if he’s in chains most of the time, they’d be good lookin’ ones.”

Jake roared. “Yeah, well, for my kid, nutless or not, they better be good chains cuz if they’re not, bet I could find another set…..”

It was clearly the end of the conversation. Jake said he’d let them know a day or two before they hit the road, Bill sent back not to worry about hotels, they were his guests, all the stuff you say to visiting friends.

That laugh again. “Lets just ask a question and, next time, you can answer; How do you like ‘em? Shaved or furry? Have a good ‘un, Bill.”

The dead line was now as suggestive as porn on the cob.

Frosty who’d heard most of what they’d said was sweating just like his boss.

“Do you take that the way he may have thrown it? He wants to come up and get himself…..?”

“That’s a clever man right there, what he did was set the trap, used himself as bait, the kids just along for the ride, he wants to see what goes on here...Told you, if the kid had good ideas, and he did, that old man could probably overhaul this place, add to the bottom line ‘n have a good time doing it. Fuck, Butch said he screwed all his kids… a man who’d do that, and they stuck around so nobody got their feelings or their asses hurt too bad, has more on his mind than seein’ if it’s really true that everything IS up to date in Kansas City.

It was a longer wait than Bill had thought. Based on Jake’s seeming interest, his guess was that he and his kid, his Butch, would show up in a week, maybe ten days but it was more like two months. He’d tried to call to speak to the man carrying his name on his scrotum but...each time, he was out. Always enjoyed talking to Jake, they were quickly getting closer than he’d expected, indeed, Jake made it plain that as he’d never fucked a man without nuts, steers yes, men, no, he thought it would be an interesting experience. Caught off guard, all Bill could say was fucking was fucking, didn’t matter what was dangling below the pile driver. Yeah, said, Jake, but he was just used to squeezing himself out a goodly slurp...fresh from the pump. With that, he added he and Butch would pull in sometime Friday...looked forward to meeting him.

Kansas City can and does produce some cold weather which was what that Friday proved to be. Under their cowman’s hats, both Jake and Butch had scarves wound around just to keep their ears warm; On the long drive up, they’d made a number of stops to look at calves which various stock men believed had potential to become breeding material...Whatever else he planned after they arrived, this part of the drive was all business which was translating into cold barns, corrals, standing around dickering….while Kansas wind alternately almost blew their hats off or shellacked them with sleet. Both men were glad to drive into the little known opening beside the barbershop next to Bill’s factory where you could enter without running through the permanent protesters about cutting of men’s nuts and selling them as a delicacy.

Hard to know who he was gladder to see, his promised man Butch or Butch’s dad, Jake. One thing, soon as they peeled off their cold weather gear, the bar was immediately open, something their visitors appreciated. Jake poured himself a good stiff one, Bill and Frosty joined him while Butch, now not sure of his status, sorta promised to Bill as his, stood aside.

“Come on, you’re a man, you drink, you’re cold, git over here, let me feel what you got… and I may be getting.”

His father laughed. “I checked ‘em myself before we left, may have grown some fur but….no doubt as to their ownership. Take off your pants, son, let the man see what he wants.”

A little ashamed, Butch pulled off his boots, got out of his Levi’s then pulled off his briefs...revealing a surprise; He had a steel chastity cage over his genitals, good sturdy one.

“Thought you might wanta know he didn’t do anything you wouldn’t like...cept I fucked him a time or two...” He fumbled in his pocket. “Want me to open him up?”

Bill nodded.

Jake produced a key ring with several keys, hunted for half a sec, found one… “C’mere son, bet you’ll be glad to get rid  of that thing.”

With two turns of the key the whole piece fell on the floor revealing a cock that had been clearly restrained, got shriveled up, plus the nut sac, pulled up but you could still read some of “Bill’s Balls” on it. Clearly this wasn’t something his Dad put on just before they set off on the drive to KC.

Jake pulled the fleshy bag down. “Well, Sir, there they are,  snack before dinner tonight if you want ‘em. That ink will puff up pretty quick, fine job, the kid tells me the man who did that is a friend, might make a house call for visitors...that right?”

The idea that he’d be eaten...or part of him...Butch Blushed. His father noticed, laughed, slapped on his bare ass.

“Whattya think was gonna happen to ‘em? Sell ‘em? Those are eatin’ balls, son, just like back home when we cut the calves, Prairie Oysters, makes me smack  my lips just thinkin’ how a good plate full of deep fried balls would taste...Bill? Bet you’re thinkin’ about the same.” His dad hefted his bag, still compacted from the cage. “Hell, I done enough cuttin’ be proud to do my own kid for ya, kinda father’s privilege to turn his son from a man to a, well, hell  Bill, what do you call yourself? Gelding? Steer?...”

Bill and Frosty looked a little stunned. Truth was, for all the balls they’d trimmed then sold, they’d never even thought about reserving some for a feed not to mention the concept of Jake doing the cutting.…..Sure they’d had the Oysters Jake mentioned but...as calf fries from calves not….what he seemed to be suggesting for his kid.

Butch came out of his surprise… “Well, hell, if that’s what you want, I gave ‘em to you….can’t get a full meal but...”

“No, uh, not tonight….didn’t plan on taking them right away, sides...that’s between him and me, more like in private.” Bill was having trouble thinking of ways to step around what was clearly being proposed.

“Good enough...but...this here’s KC, steak capital of the world, I’ll take all of you out for a good strip or sirloin….my treat, hell, Bill, bet you know the best place in town...you bein’ in the ‘meat’ business an’ all.” Everyone laughed...sort of.

They were back on firm ground. “Well, hell yes I do, and you’re looking at it, Frosty over there, don’t even haveta go out...just tell him how much meat you think you can eat, how you want it cooked an’ dinner is served!! We got more’n balls in the ‘frigerator...we eat meat ourselves.”

Predictably it turned into what, with lesser men, might have been an old fashioned drunk, but Bill and Jake….enjoyed their liquor, knew what it did to them and didn’t quite let it happen. Last thing Bill said as the two of them staggered down a hallway…. “Shit, you really did mean it about fucking a man with no balls didn’t cha?”

Jake just laughed, reached down, gave him a good grope… “Oh yeah, I did truly mean it an’ you’re the steer I plan on fucking….”

The door to a bedroom slammed shut.

Frosty and Butch just stood there...finally shifted into action, cleaning up, looking each other over….. “You like your Pa? Ever wanted to screw a man without nuts?”

“Yeah, I did, until I fucked Bill...’n some of the other guys... but wouldn’t turn down another time...hell, I may not be able to get it up...tomorrow….if Bill...”

“Yeah...it’ll be an interesting day...just don’t plan on starting too early. Come on, lets us try and do what they’re doin’...I guess you figure I’m a bottom...same as you’ll be before long...” Bill felt what was still a full house behind his zipper. “Guess you’re right…. I better learn to take it….”

Frosty put his arm around the steer to be. “Aw, son, don’t worry none, don’t hurt that bad, least ways, not like Bill or I had ‘em taken.”

“Frosty….how do you think he’ll take ‘em?”

 As they went into his room he suddenly thought….How the fuck was Bill going to denut this stallion? He knew lots a ways to do it, but….that meant jack shit when it came to Bill and how what he’d do about this situation. Whatever, it would be interesting. Having thought that, he looked at a tasty ass getting ready to hop up on the bed….must have been an equine moment, something about never looking a gift horse in the mouth...or elsewhere.

The visitors were surprized at how noisy Saturday morning was in a place that, supposedly, wasn’t doing any  business. Only slightly hungover, not to the point where action wasn’t possible, the four men were drinking coffee casually dressed in what they’d slept in, T’s, boxers or briefs and some socks. Half the guys bulged, half….displayed a sausage; No one noticed the difference.

“Sorry about the crap and corruption, this is the day we have to virtually sterilize the place to conform to all the fucking gov’ment health standards….Fuck, we’re cleaner than a slaughter house where they cut up the whole animal, here we only slice off one small bit, not enough blood for a transfusion for a mouse...best stick around up here until they finish, the last part….well, we open the windows, the liquid cleanser they use...clean your nose, your brain….probably throw some on your nuts, they’d drop off, sure as hell peel off your fur.”

Frosty said they usually hit a breakfast place, hung out there ‘til coming back wasn’t a sentence to lose your senses; Once a month, which this wasn’t, he didn’t know what they used, but as they were going out, the cleaners were coming in wearing full coverage Hazmat suits including air tanks.

‘C’mon, men, lets shove off...” He looked at Butch then down at his well filled crotch. “Might have some fun talkin’ about how you plan on de-balling my boy….”

From the looks on the three other faces, he was the only one who thought that conversation would be interesting.

Walking in the side entrance several hours later-Bill knew how long the cleaning took therefore how long to stay...elsewhere-Jake and his kid understood exactly why they’d stayed away; Fuck, he thought, the smell of his place makes a hospital seem like a sewage treatment plant.

During the extended breakfast Jake had mentioned Buzz, who’d done the inking on his kid’s dick….wondered if he was around. One call told them he’d meet them at the plant when they got back. Jake smiled, liked the work the man had done….figured if he didn’t bring ‘em, it was a quick step to get his needles…..for a piece of custom work.

Bill pulled some papers from a board, didn’t really look them over… “Okay, I’ve been inspected, guess I passed, there’s no sign plastered across the door..” Then threw the sheaf in a trash can. “Okay, gents, what’s your pleasure? Upstairs for a little sauce to cover whatever we overdid last night?”

Jake had an agenda. “Well, hell, since we’re here, part of why I came was to see how this place works….” He laughed. “We know it’s clean. How about a tour?”

Bill wasn’t too sure exactly what he had in mind but caught a break when he heard a hammering at the employee entrance; Figured it was Buzz...he was right.

Introductions, Jake complimented Buzz on the work on his kid, said they were about to ‘take the tour’, join ‘em. Prob’ly seen it before but after that...he had some ideas...fuck, he didn’t come all the way to figure out to take off a man’s nuts, he knew that before he left Oklahoma.

“So, what’s first up?”

“Well, course they get delivered, all that damn paper work, course they’re cuffed, each prison chains their men together so’s we know what goes with who...Depending on how good, or bad, the idiots back at the big house did their work, can take a little or a lot of time. Biggest part is matching the mug shots to the man, get ‘em in a line, start ‘em toward the next station. Like your kid can tell you, if it wasn’t loud enough before that, here it comes.”

“Yeah, well, a man figures he’s about to get his balls whacked off, be down right abnormal if he didn’t holler….I shore would.”

The door to the area where their clothes were removed only worked one way, in. Only one man at a time went through, a slit on the floor let the chain follow the correct group.

“Okay, here’s where it really starts, least ways as far as the ‘life stock’, sorry shouldn’t say that….”

Jake laughed, “Fuck, why not? That’s what they are, anything you’re gonna turn into meat for sale is live stock...So...you strip ‘em?”

“Yeah but…..their clothes gotta match their paper work...and their picture which we take before an’ after they get stripped, ‘bout the only time that chain at the bottom is released, so they can pull off their shoes and britches, there’s guards by each man as that happens...add the spreader bar, standard thirty inches, while that’s going on, their cuffs are raised, attached to the chain that’s moving above ‘em.”

Jake had a technical question… “How do you adjust for height...here...let me show you….aw fuck…..” He pulled off his clothes.

“Okay, slap that bar down there and cuff me…….” In a fog Bill and Frosty did while Butch and Buzz stood there...not sure what they were seeing.

“See? I’m a tall man...stick me on that chain up there….you got slack in the chain between the wrist cuffs and point where I’m put on.” He thought.

“Hell, grab them two”….he pointed at Butch and Buzz…. “Put them up like me….show you what I mean.”

Neither Buzz nor Butch were sure but...Jake had the voice of authority so they found themselves peeling down to their skin, then moving toward the big man, already hanging from the wide holed chain.

“Now, ya see? My kid isn’t that much shorter ‘n me but he’s got less play where as I can move my wrists and hands, then your tat guy, he’s almost hanging, no play, no danger from him but lets say the man next to me and I are in cahoots, might be we could grab a guard or one of your guys...what then?”

Bill, forgetting his guests were now naked as well as hanging from a chain with their legs pushed apart, saw the technical thing Jake meant. As he’d figured before he met the man, he did have ideas, comments and suggestions that could be helpful. He remembered something.

“Would be true….if that chain weren’t moving, whether they go easy or get dragged, that slack gets used up….Frosty, show that man, turn on the machine...get it moving.”

Two minutes later there was a solid jerk which would have knocked the three men down if they hadn’t been held up….took a moment but slowly, they started to move. Jake was laughing like hell….

“Okay, now I’m headed for the slaughter house….what’s next?”

Butch knew but….it was where the steel circles were put through the tongues and lips to cut down on the noise….he looked at Bill who was wholly involved in what was going on. “Holy shit...he thought, he’ll do it, stick that thing in our mouths...”

“Well, Jake, if you was headed for the last round up, or your balls were, you’d be hollerin’ so we got a device...your kid left it out of his article...that kinda cuts down on the hoorah and corruption.”

He pulled one, wrapped for sterility, from a station, “This is how we shut ‘em up….stick it through the tongue, on around, sometimes through the lip but...if they look like that won’t work much, fuck, pull it on down through their chin, snap it, that shuts ‘em up double quick.”

“Do it  to me, goddam it, I’m a hollerin’ sonofabitch, I need to be shut up….stick it all the way...hey, if I’m gonna not be a man really soon, then, fuck, I’ll scream bloody murder. I gotta guess the guys, don’t care what they did to get here, they’re men, they do NOT want this to happen….fuck, even with calves that we’re gonna steer, we get ‘em in that line to brand and steer ‘em, they ain’t happy. Only difference”..he laughed…. “these guys can’t kick up shit, take a piss on you…”

“Frosty, stop the line….Jake, you’re loco….You don’t want this...Happy to show you the whole thing, answer anything but...this just ain’t something I could to, well, a man who’s probably gonna be a friend...cuz you and I sure enjoyed talkin’ an’ all.”

Jake looked right at him…. “Okay, what you’re saying, ‘preciate it but...buddy, when my kid came back to me….he’s got your name plastered on his ball bag, says you’re gonna slice ‘em off, he’s gonna be yours. That’s between him ‘n you but, guess you forgot, over time, you ‘n me have talked about the operation here….offered me the tour ‘n buddy, this is part of the tour now get that hoop thing in my jaw...oh, and do these two along with me, and we’ll see what happens.”

Bill and Frosty went into a sort of catatonic state. Minutes passed...what Bill realized was...he was getting turned on at the thought of taking Jake, just the other two because they were there, it was all he could do to stop the heavy breathing, the way a body reacts when really aroused.

Jake grinned. “I see what you’re goin’ through, look down, see that cow poker stickin’ out in front of me? You got me real turned on...guess every man wonders what it would be like to lose ‘em...well, I’m set to maybe have that happen, ain’t no playing around here, I bet once a man goes through that opening down there, that’s it, he’s about to be a steer an’ right now...get over here….let me suck you off, your buddy can let my kid do him…..Then, motherfucker, you’re gonna get down on your knees and eat every bit of cum in all three of us...don’t care if it takes a hour...an’ for that whole time I’m gonna sit here, hot as hell, wonderin’ if I want ‘em ripped off...yeah, Butch told me, all the men here didn’t lose ‘em in some legal way, you lost ‘em in prison, coulda  died when they was torn off….Right?”

Bill remembered and felt a sort of bizarre kinship with what this man was saying. Yeah, his were ripped off, so were Frosty’s so what Jake was sayin’ was….I cannot go through what you did, but, fuck, I’m a man , I can first wonder then see the ax dropped… that was part of the ‘tour’, the experience he talked about.

He was on his knees taking Jake’s animal sized cock, determined to get it down his throat. He knew his cum had to be the best ever...get it now.

One thing, Bill sure as thunder knew how to suck a man, probably one of those talents you learned in prison cuz if you didn’t, well just getting your stones whacked, was a lot better with some of the other damage leading up to and including death.

He came out of it in his head while keeping Jake’s faucet turned on….Buzz always said he was the only one who came around who still had ‘em….well….this might be the day when their hanging there moved to the past tense. Liked Buzz well enough but, fuck, cawing about what you’ve got and another man hasn’t, after a while, just pisses a man off and, right then, Bill was pissed off. ‘Nother good thing about Buzz, he’d inked his, that’d make the first pair with color he had….

Jake, Butch and Buzz were now ‘silenced’. How they’d taken being pierced to shut them up...varied. Jake was laughing, still was in a mumbling sort of way after the steel circle went in through his tongue, out his lip then clipped shut. Butch….just took it but Buzz fought...by then he didn’t just wonder, he pretty much knew Bill wasn’t going to stop until they’d made the turn, into the cutting room and, well, he knew what he’d lose there. He’d teared up which Bill noticed, came over… “Hell, buddy, you always said you was the only man here who still had ‘em and left with ‘em….”. Didn’t say anything more but his smile told him everything. Dirty Sonofabitch, if it hadn’t been this rodeo, he realized Bill was gonna get  ‘em….shit. He looked to his right...remembered what came next and he didn’t like that any better.

“Well gents, just two more stops until…..” He didn’t finish the sentence, he didn’t need to.

Frosty stood beside one of the permanent fixtures stuck to the floor-from it ran a series of electrical cords that led to the sort of clippers called, “Balding”. As Bill had observed, and written, the idea wasn’t to get a smooth surface, just get most of the hair removed; The guys who usually did it, like intake barbers for the Marines, could just about scalp the crotch in a minute-guys with hanging balls took a little more time and, when it came to a set such as Jake’s, both cock and nuts, that required extra time, not only due to the size but out of respect for what was a truly magnificent set that could have come from an animal.

Silence. Hair was on the floor, the strips of plastic that marked the entrance to where the cutting was done swayed slightly, stabbing drifts of cold air came out, curled around naked bodies….held a promise of what happened...and where….

Bill took Jake’s meat, shucked it then pulled a condom over it making sure the reservoir was extra large. Smiled at the man as he did it, Jake winked back; This was a one time thing, however it ended, hell, after all the steers he’d created, seemed almost fair to him that he get turned into one himself. Least it would be done professionally, not rolling around in piss and shit in some field trying to avoid being castrated by an animal not real happy to get its balls sliced off. If he could have, he would have laughed.

Bill paused the line, had his ‘livestock’ perch on their little seats, admired three pair of testicles, all nicely shaved, cocks out of the way, tried to think...under certain other circumstances, what he’d make on this deal? A ‘course with a set like Jake’s, almost take bids in advance. Probably get some inquiries as to what his cock might go for? Matter of fact, as Bill had thought when he was looking at the picture, properly stuffed, what could be a more appropriate hat hanger for a ten gallon Stetson?

He engaged the gears and, one at a time, the men rounded the corner, through the strips until they were where the action took place. No one had noticed but...Bill had separated the guys so only one at a time was facing the cutting area. First up was….Buzz.

“Well, gents, here’s where we separate the men from the steers….gotta think how many guys, right here, no matter what they know is comin’ think, well, shit, if I could just get one hand  down there, get a fist full of me….feel those jewels roll around….any of you wanta have a last grope...of yourself?” The only one who probably, well, definitely would was Buzz who was openly bawling. He couldn’t say it but….clearly what he would have said would be, “Oh, please, please, don’t do this, don’t cut ‘em off…..please...” But one look at Bill told him...not to bother, his sperm factories were about to be removed. Permanently.

He’d staggered the guys so given the curve, no one could see what was going on with the man next to him. Jake tried to turn his head but...the distance was just long enough that even his peripheral vision showed him ….nothing. However, his hearing was perfect….he could imagine Bill standing in front of the tattoo artist who too often had bragged he was the only man who left with his nuts still where a man kept ‘em. He forgot that every person who worked there had his removed in not very pleasant ways so, whether they liked, and patronized, his work, his claim to continuing possession….pissed them off.

What Jake couldn’t see he could clearly hear. Bill in a real calm voice told Buzz he, and all the guys who worked there, were sick of hearing him say how he was the only man who walked out as a full man….while he certainly admired his ink work, appreciated what he’d done for all the men, himself included, his mouth had set a price to pay and now he was about give the cost his mouth had set.

There would have been been a silence if it hadn’t been for Buzz’s trying to plead, to beg, to….but then it all stopped.

“Feel my hand on your bag? Remember that…..after this stick….well, you know what comes after that.” Jake remembered, from Butch’s story, that all the ‘livestock’ were shot up with anesthetic so there would be no pain….other than each man felt in his own mind.

There was silence. Jake didn’t need a picture to understand what was happening, what had happened, what the result was. He heard Bill say, “I’ll see that they’re in a jar with preservative…..get you sewed up. Might want to slice off the bag….looks better, give you the name of a doc who does most of our guys.” More silence.

“Get the doc to start you on testosterone….also you’re now our official tattoo artist….” He laughed. “First thing, I thought up an O-fficial tat for this place, pair ‘a circles with a line threw ‘em….I’ll get mine first thing when you get over bein’ pissed off.”

Jake wondered how pleased the newly steered man would be? One thing he did know….soon as Bill finished with Buzz, he was next up. Hard not to wonder what….?

There was a jerk as the chain started moving again. Finished taking Jake around the circle to the spot where Bill stood.

“Guess you gotta wonder what happens now….?” He paused, looked at the man in front of him, knew he was a friend so maybe….just maybe what he had in mind, what he’d thought about doing, remembered the picture laying on his desk and what he’d wanted to do….But now….Jake saw his smile as he picked up a syringe, filled it with anesthetic then pointed it at his scrotum. Well, he thought, at least I’ll be one of the men who can leave here….and as best he could, he laughed, he’d kinda thought this might be the end.

Bill pulled back the needle, stuck it three other places….. “Give it a couple of minutes….don’t want to hurt my…...new partner?”

Jake winked at him, couldn’t quite smile but Bill got the message….he realized here was a man who’d wondered what it was like to be nutted...now he’d know. Yes indeed, he would almost know, almost.

Reaching behind him he picked up a sterile sealed package.

“If you wondered, and I kinda doubt you did, sure am gonna cut ‘em off but...” He held out the almost opaque bag. “You ‘n me is gonna have a secret; I’m gonna put in a new set of artificial balls, bigger ‘n what you got….matter of fact, damn shame when mine went couldn’t get somethin’ like this.”

He sat down on a stool, took a scalpel from a sealed package, put the point against the flesh.

“Right or left first?”

Jake just shrugged, looked down, saw the blade go into the skin and finally knew what he’d always wondered: What was it like to be castrated? In a sense, he was almost sorry there was no feeling, that would have fulfilled what it was truly like, one minute a man, ten seconds of searing pain and then...that was it, your balls were in the hands of another man, cords pulled out, cut, that was it. Jake being Jake tried to laugh.

Bill was an expert; Ten minutes later some large testes were floating in a jar but an even larger set of artificial male testicles were installed, almost stretching the sack that was their new home.

“Fuck, I truly wanted to use steel but….they just don’t work, always wanted to know a man who could truly say his clanked. Better if your partner’s did.” Jake shrugged his shoulders suggesting, “So what…”.

They both sat there, Jake strung up to the chain, Bill staring at what any man would be proud to have suspended….they looked at each other and smiled. Bill reached over and took out the ring that prevented the man with new bull balls from speaking.

“You sonofabitch, how’d you know I’d want them off?”

“Guess cuz we’re alike, knew when you started talking about coming here, taking the tour, finding out all you could, well, hell, there was only one thing you wondered, what it’s like to get deballed, become a steer….”

Jake worked his jaw a bit. “Smarts..can you hit the spot where you stuck that thing in with some of what you used on my nuts?”

Bill obliged. “Guess I should take you down, no need for the chains...”

“Fuck, leave ‘em….part of the experience...never been chained up before, never will be again….” He waggled his jaw a bit more.

“You got one left out there….the one with your name on his balls….what you fixin’ to do to him?”

Bill sat back on his stool and just grinned. “Well, tell you what...remember when you first got here? Said if I wanted to cut him right then, there’d be almost enough for a snack?”

Jake got a subtle sneaky smile on his lips…..

“All these years, you were right, I been sellin’ a product an’ never knew why the ding dong hell anyone wanted ‘em unless they tasted good….guess with my new Partner, we could at least sample the product…..whattya say?”

Jake just stuck his tongue out and licked his lips while Bill started the chain moving to bring Butch in…..