Each one lugging a case, they came striding toward the house as the powered gate slowly closed across the driveway entrance, and bounced up the steps, smiling.

“Mr. Morrow?” asked the one in the lead.

“Alec,” I said, automatically. “And this is Cameron.” I jerked my head sideways to indicate my partner who was standing behind me.

“Joel, sir, BoysRUs,” the first one said. “Jerry,” said the other.

“I’ll be your cook,” said Joel. He looked to be around 20 or 21, slim, tanned and sexy, with neatly trimmed brown hair and earnest grey eyes.

“And I have the entree for your dinner, sir,” said Jerry, who looked a couple of years younger. He was about 5-6, an inch or two shorter than Joel. Like his partner, he was slender and narrow hipped, but he had red hair, blue eyes and a freckled snub nose. The lower front of his jump suit was tented out from his stomach.

Noticing my glance, he did something to the suit and it opened to release a rigidly erect penis that looked way too big for the rest of him. It was standing almost straight up, with the tip of the crisp, light purple cap reaching to his navel. It had to be a good eight inches and thick accordingly. Despite the erection, his big, bulky testicles hung down slightly. He had no hint of pubic hair.

He pushed the penis down level with his thumb on the base. “I hope this is suitable, sir.” He gave me a wide boyish grin. “It’s guaranteed fresh.”

I felt my own dick shove against the leg of my shorts and Cam let out a low whistle. “Uh, yeah,” I managed to get out, glancing reflexively around for neighbors who might see despite the fact that our house was on top of a small hill with trees all around except for the hazy view out over the San Fernando Valley. “Come in, come in.”

Jesus, I was thinking, how can he just be walking around with that? I hadn’t seen him touch it since he got out of the van. I guessed he was on Viagra, or one of those newer things.

Both of them continued to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary as they walked into our marble-floored entry and looked around. Without a by-your-leave, both Joel and Jerry pulled open Velcro seams on their jump suits and casually stripped them off, leaving them naked except for low white boots. My attention immediately leaped from Jerry to Joel. He had nothing in his crotch, only smooth, taut, hairless skin where a dick and balls might once have been. As I stared, I could just make out a faint vertical scar. I suppose technically he wasn’t a male anymore, but nothing about him looked feminine. The nude body was lean, tanned and well defined. Prominent pink nipples stood out from hard, muscular pecs. He carried himself with a confident, assertive air. I figured he had to be on some sort of testosterone maintenance regime.

Under my admiring stare, he smiled and rubbed his hand lightly over his smooth, flat crotch. “Nice, huh?”

I smiled back, flustered. And found myself wondering what it would be like to fuck him. “Uh, yeah.”

“I love it,” he said.

“Would you gentlemen care to inspect the entree?” Jerry asked, reclaiming my attention.

The entree . . . I was momentarily thrown until I registered what he meant. “I, uh . . .” The two young men waited, expectant.

“You can handle it, sir, do whatever you like,” Joel finally said. Cam laughed, nervously, and gestured me to go first.

The skin of Jerry’s penis was smooth, pale and soft over a slightly ridged hard core, the light purple glans velvety to the touch. The rest of his body was also pale and hairless, his belly taut and slightly concave like a younger boy’s. His nipples weren’t as prominent as Joel’s but they were definitely erect. I massaged the glans tentatively with my finger tips. Jerry responded with a slight thrusting of his hips and I felt a hint of pre-cum emerge from the tip, but nothing else happened. I grasped the testicles and rolled them in my hand. The sac was silky and slightly cool, the balls inside plump and meaty. I found the sperm cords and rolled them hard between my fingertips. He stiffened but didn’t protest, so I pinched them harder. He responded with a tight smile and a more pronounced forward thrust of his hips. So, it’s all real, I thought inanely.

“Uh, it all seems satisfactory,” I managed, moving aside for Cam, who was practically licking his lips. He grasped the penis and squeezed.

“Nice and solid. How do you keep it erect like this? Viagra or something?”

“No, sir,” said Joel. “It’s a special process. Trade secret.”

“Permanently erect?”

“Yes, sir.” He grinned. “Until it gets used,” Jerry added with a laugh.

“If I keep doing this . . . ” Cam moved his hand up and down the cockshaft, “will it shoot?”

“No, sir.” Jerry looked faintly regretful.

“Not even if I want it to?”

“Well . . .” Jerry didn’t seem to know what to say. Joel rescued him. “The urethra has already been cut and the lower part reconnected to his anus. That’s to satisfy Health Department rules that the penis be completely urine free when it’s cooked.”

“Health Department rules?” I repeated, incredulous.

“Yes, sir. BoysRUs is required to meet strict health standards.”

“Wow,” said Cam. “Who’d have thought?”

I laughed. I could still hardly believe this.

“If you’ll show us the kitchen, we’ll get set up,” Joel said.

Cam led the way and the young men followed him, which allowed me to admire their tight asses as I brought up the rear. Jerry had a bubble butt which bobbed enticingly as he moved. I caught myself wondering idly if rump roast was on the BoysRUs menu, and was shocked by my own thought. But hell, we were about to eat other parts of the kid, weren’t we? Still feeling vaguely guilty, I told myself it wouldn’t do any harm to check into it.

We have this big, fancy kitchen decorated with rather garish Mexican tile, with a breakfast bar and a butcher block table. But neither I nor Cam do much cooking and the kitchen is pretty much the domain of our houseman, Jimmy, who’d been given the day off. So Cam and I would been fumbling around trying to find stuff. But with the contents of the cases they’d brought in, I think the boys could have made do almost anywhere. Opened, they revealed what amounted to a self-contained kitchen, plus the rest of the dinner in insulated containers. Jerry took up a position beside the table, feet planted wide apart and genitals thrust forward, hands clasped loosely behind his butt. As we talked, he kept pushing up slightly on his toes.

“We offer a choice of preparation methods,” Joel said. “Most of our customers prefer cooking the meat in place and carving it at the table. Or we can remove it first and serve it whole or shish-ka-bob style, or ground and made into patties.”

“Hamburger? You’re kidding. For what this dinner is costing us?” Cam said.

I glanced at Jerry, who just smiled back at me. Perversely, something about the idea of making that rampant cock and balls into nice, juicy hamburger patties kind of appealed to me. But no, it was the cooking in place that had especially intrigued me when Norm and Carl had told us about their experience with BoysRUs.

“In place,” I said. Both young men seemed pleased by my choice.

“Good. Why don’t you gentlemen get comfortable,” Joel suggested. “A BoysRUs dinner is best enjoyed in the nude.”

Cam, who tends to be a bit shy, hesitated, but I stripped off immediately, exposing my own erection, and Cam followed suit after a moment. Jerry glanced from one cock to the other and said, “Nice,” with apparent sincerity. I smiled back.

“If either of you gentlemen would like to contribute ‘sauce’ for the meat . . .” Joel held out, of all things, condoms.

Cam blushed and I felt my own face redden. But I was game. I took a condom and slipped it over the head of my erection.

“Too bad the boy can’t provide his own,” Cam said, a trifle sourly. I knew he was covering his embarrassment.

“How long has it been since your last, uh, ejaculation?” I asked Jerry.

“Two weeks, sir. Just before the piss tube was rerouted. The buildup of sperm in the balls is supposed to make them tastier.”

“I bet you wish you could cum one last time,” Cam said–a little meanly, I thought.

“No sir,” Jerry said firmly. But he didn’t sound entirely sincere.

Joel got out something that looked like an outsized pair of pliers with a small reel on one side. He grasped Jerry’s genitals–from the side, so Cam and I could see–pulled them forward, and pressed the jaws hard into Jerry’s crotch around the base of the penis.

“Ready, sport?”

“Go,” said Jerry.

Joel squeezed the handles together. The tool made a whirring, snapping noise and Jerry grimaced. When Joel took the tool away, there was a silvery white ring that looked like some sort of plastic sunk deep in the flesh around the base of the penis behind the balls. The whole works immediately began to darken.

“Any time for the ‘sauce’,” Joel reminded us as he pulled on latex gloves.

Feeling intensely self-conscious, I perched on a stool from the breakfast bar and began pumping. Cam hesitated, but after a moment, he slipped on one of the condoms and started twisting and pulling his balls, the way he liked me to do. I came almost immediately, my cream ballooning the condom.

“Great,” said Joel. He took the condom, squeezed the contents into a small bowl and added a couple of spoonsful from a steak sauce bottle. Cam handed over his contribution a moment later. Joel stirred the mixture with a small glass rod.

“Okay, we’ll let that sit a moment. You guys want the meat spicy or mild?”

I glanced at Cam. He shrugged. “The way you usually do it,” I suggested.

“Right.” Joel stirred more ingredients into the ‘sauce’, then selected an implement like an outsized hypodermic from a rack in one of the cases, fitted on a needle and sucked up about half of the ‘sauce’ with it. He pulled out Jerry’s testicles, inserted the needle into the scrotum, and pushed in the plunger. Then he rolled the balls around, squeezing and kneading. Jerry watched all this alertly, staring down at himself, but otherwise barely reacted.

“Do you give him any thing for pain?” Cam asked.

“Mild nerve block in the crotch. We can’t use anything that leaves a significant chemical residue in the meat.”

“Health Department?”

Joel nodded. Cam rolled his eyes.

Joel selected a smaller syringe and injected a little of the sauce into the head of Jerry’s penis and then about a half inch apart along the length of Jerry’s purpling shaft. This time the boy did react by sucking in his breath and gritting his teeth with each injection, but he kept his cock thrust forward.

The injections done, Joel mopped up the remaining few drops of the ‘sauce’ with his fingertips and rubbed them into the skin of Jerry’s genitals. Then he uncapped a plastic tube, took out a yellow-brown stick about two inches long and an eighth of an inch thick and inserted it into the tip of the penis.

“Spice stick,” he explained. “Cheese base.”

He pushed the stick all the way in, followed it with two more and half of a third, and stripped off the gloves.

“Okay, while the meat absorbs the flavoring I’ll set up the rest of the dinner.”

Cam showed Joel into the dining room, where he made two place settings using bone china, crystal wine glasses and real silver, all produced from the catering cases, then set out the rest of the menu we’d ordered–Caesar salad, wild rice and snow peas. (I know, I know, nouvelle Midwestern, but it suited us.) He drew a bottle of cold champagne from an insulated sheathe and showed the label to Cam for his approval.

Jerry was left standing quietly in the kitchen, hands behind his back, watching the activity. His clamped off penis had turned purple and sagged from upright to just above horizontal. It looked enormous. The scrotum had relaxed and the balls hung loose and heavy. I no longer wondered if one boy could provide enough meat for both Cam and I. Where did BoysRUs find these kids?

I returned from checking out what was going on in the dining room to catch the boy entertaining himself by swiveling his hips to make his jutting cock swing heavily from side to side.

“Playing with our dinner?” I asked teasingly.

He froze and actually blushed. “Sorry sir.”

Joel spoke up behind me.

“Okay, I think we’re ready to cook ‘em. Right, Jerry?”

“Right!”

Joel took from one of the cases a rectangular stainless steel box about a foot long and 4 or 5 inches on a side, open on one of the ends, with straps and a power cord. There was a timer and a switch on one side. He took out a panel apparently designed to fit the open end of the box. This had an opening in the middle. He pulled the two halves open, fitted it around the silvery clamp at the base of Jerry’s penis and snapped it shut. Jerry pushed his fingers in behind it and stretched it forward. Joel slipped the box over the penis and testicles and shoved it against the panel, rotating it back and forth until the panel clicked in place. Jerry took hold of the box and held it against him as Joel tightened the straps around his body.

“This is a microwave cooker,” Joel explained, plugging it in above one of our wall counters. “The metalized clamp around the base of the organs acts both to stop the waves from penetrating further into Jerry’s crotch and to make sure the meat is cooked all the way down. It’ll take about 15 minutes. Ready, sport?”

“Ready.” For the first time, Jerry’s face betrayed apprehension. He took a deep breath, swallowed hard and pressed the switch on the cooker himself. I was a little surprised that he was the one to start it.

There was a hum from the cooker. Some 10 seconds went by and Jerry relaxed slightly. Then he stiffened again, his face went red, he gritted his teeth and began to squirm. Cords stood out in his neck and he squeezed his eyes shut. Sweat popped out on his forehead and he made a staccato groaning noise which rose steadily in pitch. All the while, he held the cooker tight against his body.

Joel stood with his hands on his hips, watching calmly.

Suddenly, Jerry began making frantic fucking motions, flung his head back and let out a long, “AAAAHHHHH!” which could have been agony or ecstacy. From where I stood watching, I saw a dribble of white fluid–semen?–down the inside of one leg. His body remained rigid for long seconds before he slowly relaxed. Then he gave Joel a guilty look, still holding on to the cooker.

“Took me by surprise.”

“That’s okay, sport. It happened to me, too.” Both of them were looking embarrassed.

“I thought you said he couldn’t cum,” Cam said.

“We’re not supposed to,” Joel answered. “But sometimes the donor gets an orgasm during the cooking process. Sorry about the mess, but it really won't affect the flavor of the balls because everything’s clamped off.”

“So you served your own, uh, meat, too?”

“Yes, sir. All our cooks do.”

“That’s okay, then,” I said. I was actually a bit tickled by their embarrassment.

Jerry managed a shame-faced smile. “Thank you, sir. At least that’s the end of that.”

All this time, the aroma of meat cooking had been growing stronger. Jerry apparently had been feeling no pain since his illicit orgasm. Now, crisis passed, he pressed the cooker harder against his groin, a dreamy expression came over his face and he closed his eyes. My own dick had gone rigid again.

The boy’s genitals came out of the cooker a rich golden brown, testicles and all, and smelling for all the world like roast pork.

“Ready to serve,” Joel announced.

We all went into the dining room. Joel suggested that Cam and I drape a napkin over our hard cocks, which I went along with though I thought it was a pointless nicety. Joel had placed a carving board at the head of the table, on a heavy white towel to soak up any juices. Jerry took his place with his cooked organs projecting out over the board. Joel served the salad, ladled rice and peas on two plates, then handed Jerry a serving knife and fork and stepped back. Jerry promptly speared his penis with the fork, pressed it down on the board and carefully sliced off the head.

“This is supposed to be the best piece,” he said, cutting it in two and depositing the halves on a small platter which Joel presented to Cam and I in turn. “Use your fingers,” he suggested.

I popped my half in my mouth and rolled it around on my tongue before biting into it. It did indeed, taste like roast pork, slightly gamy under the spices, but tender. It hit me that I was actually eating the head of a young guy’s penis and my own dick shot off untouched. I just let the ejaculation take its course and the napkin take the gism. Cam’s red-faced grin across the table told me the same thing had happened to him. Suddenly the napkins made sense.

I became aware that Jerry had been watching with a trace of anxiety.

“Good?” He asked.

“First rate,” said Cam, and I smiled and nodded. Jerry’s face lit up.

He proceeded to slice his penis up in one-inch chunks as Cam and I watched, fascinated. He didn’t just whack off one piece after another, he made a production of it, spearing each piece with the fork and inspecting it, then using the knife blade to nudge it off the tines of the fork onto the platter. When he got down to within about three-fourths of an inch of the plastic clamp, he took the last piece off with the testicles attached. There was no blood, though the surprisingly small area inside the plastic band was an angry red. Jerry sliced open the scrotum, teased out the balls with the fork one by one and trimmed off the sperm cords, which he deposited in a small bowl along with the sac. Then the testicles themselves went on the platter. The last chunk of penis also went into what was evidently the discard bowl.

I acknowledged the performance by clapping softly. Jerry looked startled and I realized he had been completely absorbed in what he was doing. He gave me a pleased, if slightly embarrassed smile.

“If you’re wondering about that last piece of penis,” Joel put in, “we discard it because it sometimes doesn’t get fully cooked.”

“That’s okay,” Cam said magnanimously.

Jerry stepped back and Joel took the platter and divided the meat between the plates, then set one in front of Cam and I. Meanwhile, Jerry sprayed the wound where his genitals had been with something that coated it with a pale pink film, then poured the champagne, and they both stood at attention at the head of the table, every bit like liveried servants at a formal dinner party except they were nude.

Thinking back on it, I don’t think the meat itself was really all that great. But knowing what I was eating somehow made it delicious, especially the testicles, knowing that Jerry hadn’t been allowed to cum for a couple of weeks just to give them more flavor, which had to have been a challenge for a young man his age. I glanced up at him from time to time, wondering what he was feeling as we consumed his male organs, but his expression was serene.

“The meat’s great,” I said when he refilled my wine glass. “Thank you sir,” he said with a big smile, and then joked, “I grew it just for you guys.” I laughed. I guess I half expected him to be surly and resentful, and here the kid seemed to be in high good humor after serving up his male parts for two guys’ dinner. Later, as they cleaned up, he kept chattering away with Joel and I realized that he was not so much feeling good as what they call hyper and probably headed for a crash later, but by that time I was too mellow to care.

After they’d left, Cam looked at me and said, as if he were delivering some great revelation, “Y’know, that boy really wanted to feed himself to us.”

Cam can seem really obtuse, and then come up with some off-the-wall observation. But this time, I immediately flashed on Jerry’s creamy white buns bouncing along ahead of me to the kitchen just after they’d arrived.

“I wonder,” I said.

I knew that we’d be ordering another BoysRUs dinner. And checking out what else might be on the menu.