Delivery Boy

I got to my car, tossed the pizza box in the passenger seat, and pulled off my sweat soaked work shirt. I had a black t-shirt in my car, so pulled that on and lit up the roach. It was a hot evening and the AC in my car had gone out about a week before. Carrying around hot pizzas didn't help much either.

I'd been to this house before - it was a huge old place, with a ten foot brick wall all around the perimeter. Usually they ordered something like ten or fifteen pizzas at a time, but they were weird about it - I'd buzz them at the house and they'd tell me to leave them on the step, with an envelope in the mailbox that had the cash in it. They always tipped really well so I didn't worry much.

This time when I buzzed the voice told me to come on in. I was met at the door by a youngish looking blonde guy with his shirt off. "Hey, what's up?" he greeted me.

"Hey. This'll be six bucks." I stole little peeks inside the place. The floor was polished marble and an enourmous silver chandelier hung from the ceiling.

"Just come on in, the guy paying's taking a piss." He turned around and walked into a side room. We weren't supposed to ever go in, even if invited, but I was a little stoned by that point and wanted to see what the inside of this place looked like, so I followed him in with the pizza.

I followed him into a parlor room with lots of couches, paintings on the wall of dead people, old mahogany furniture, and the reek of opium and pot. There was a joint smouldering in an ashtray on the table in front of the couch. The guy sat down, picked it up, and took a long drag. "You want some?" he asked me.

"Uh..." Hell with it. I was technically off duty, right? "Yeah, why not?" I sat down on the couch next to him and took a big pull off it. This was good shit - of course, with a house like this it better be. Midway through my second toke another guy came in. This guy looked like an athlete, slender, taut muscles, short dark hair, wearing a t-shirt and long shorts.

"Oh, hey, dude..." his eyes were really bloodshot. He dug a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to me. "Here ya go."

"Uhhh...thanks, man."

The blonde guy spoke up. "I'm Toby, by the way." He offered his hand. I shook it.

"Zack."

"Wes." The other guy shook my hand too. "You off duty?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, I was on my way home."

"Have a smoke with us then."

"I really shouldn't..."

Toby spoke up. "No way, man. You started this joint, you gotta help us finish it!"

It didn't take much convincing. "Ahh...okay." I sat back down and we passed around a bit. We smoked up and talked for awhile about music and shit. These guys seemed pretty cool. "So what's the deal with this place?" I asked them. "This your parents' or something?"

"It was my dad's," Wes said. "He died a few years ago, left me everything."

"Oh...that both sucks and rocks simultaneously."

"Not really. Never liked him much anyway." There was an awkward pause. "Shit, it's hot in here..." Wes pulled off his shirt. I tried not to stare too much.

Toby interrupted me. "You want a drink, man?"

"Yeah, sure."

Toby stood up and walked over to the bar in the corner. He handed us all drinks, and I just started downing it - it was rum or something. I was feeling pretty good at this point so didn't really care much. Wes turned on some old Beavis and Butthead episodes he had on tape and we watched them for a bit.

"So how long you been working at the pizza joint?" Wes asked, smiling at his own bad pun.

"'bout a week. Manager said he has a real hard time keeping guys for some reason."

"Yeah, we get pizza from you guys all the time but we never get the same guy."

After the first episode or two I started feeling really funny - really hot. I started shifting around on the couch some. Toby noticed and said, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just kinda warm."

"You can get comfy if you want to dude, it's cool."

"Yeah, sure..." I peeled my shirt off and lay back, still warm but now feeling a little prickly. Something was definitely funny - this didn't feel like pot much. Wes walked by me to piss and I started to get a boner.

I glanced over at Toby to see if he noticed, hoping I could shift around to hide it, but he was staring straight at my crotch with a clear tent in his pants. "Uhh...sorry," I said, and shifted my legs some.

"Nah, it's okay. I got one too."

There was another awkward pause and Toby stood up. "Fuck it," he muttered, and dropped his pants. "I'm really fucking horny, and I'm guessing you are too," he said to me, turning around. He had a nice cock - about average size but uncut, maybe a little thick. He put his knees on either side of my hips while I scooted down a little into the couch. I knew what to do here.

His cock tasted really weird. It was like wherever it was touching me I got all tingly. My head was swimming a little bit. I went at it with singleminded determination, and every time he moaned a little it was like I was waking up.

I felt somebody undoing my pants but didn' t look to see who. They slipped them down and off my legs, and I raised my ass up a little to help out. A hand grabbed my dick - must have been Wes - and jacked it a little before I felt his bulb pressing its way into my ass.

It was incredible. Wes gave it to me good, and I raced to get Toby off before Wes came in me or I spurted all over the place. He kept the pace fast or slow, enough to tease me but never let me get off. I thought to myself that he must have had lots of practice...

Finally, Toby came right up in me. I coughed a little of it, but tried to swallow. Right as I was about to cum, Wes pulled out and spurted all up on my chest.

I was so horny I could barely move as the two of them cleaned me off and pulled me off the couch and up onto the kitchen table. Wes pulled these stirrup things down from the ceiling and put my feet up in them, spreading them far apart. They strapped my ass to the end of the table so my ass was right at the end of it, and then strapped my chest and arms down too. I felt so euphoric I didn't even want to stop them.

My balls felt all tingly...Toby had gloves on and was wiping them down. Then some pinpricks, and my whole package went numb. Wes went and got the pizza box...they never did eat it, I realized...and put it in the oven, then came to watch.

"He's got a lot more there than the last guy," Wes commented, looking at my groin.

"Yeah. I'm glad we ordered a large this time," Toby smiled, glancing over at him. "Hand me the tray, here's the first one." Toby passed a silver medical tray over and Toby dumped a little bloody thing into it.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm!" Wes mmm'd. "Black olives, sausage, and two meatballs. My favorite pizza."

"Italian sausage this time, by the look of him," Toby joked. Oh, now I got it. Sausage and meatballs. It was my sausage, so it was Italian...I giggled a little. "See, even he thinks it's funny," Toby joked.

"Maybe this one likes the thought of having his cock and balls made into pizza toppings for two hungry studs like us, yah?" Wes flexed his arms, hamming it up.

"Looks like he sure does to me," Toby answered, motioning for the tray again. Second testicle gone. I started to feel sleepy...

...and came back to see Wes and Toby standing over me, eating their pizza. I felt very...numb. "Hey, he's back," Wes commented.

"Hey there, Zack. Thanks for giving us our favorite toppings," Toby said to me.

"Yeah, totally," Wes chimed in.

"Uhhh...yeah, sure..." I muttered.

"Now, look here," he pulled my head up a little, his mouth full of pizza, and drew my attention to my groin, now an angry looking stitched wound with a plastic tube sticking out. "You'll need to use this for a few weeks to piss..."

I moaned as he showed me how to use it, more in physical pain than any mental anguish, and then they mercifully let me sleep. I woke up in my car back at work just as the sun was coming up, still a little fried from whatever drugs they gave me, but feeling like crap.

I drove home slowly and climbed into bed, not taking my pants off, afraid of what I'd see. That couldn't have just been some freakish dream, not considering what it felt like was in my shorts.

I lay in bed all the next day, finally shimmying out of my shorts around 3 and looking at myself. My whole midsection was all bruised up, and under the now-grimy taped on bandages, stitches held my groin together, with a small plastic tube where my dick used to be.

I just lay there, brain in shock. I got up that night a few times to piss, and finally ate something. I called into work the next day, and the next, and then just quit. No wonder they had such trouble keeping delivery boys.