Chapter Text
After the initial rush of young boys volunteering to be snuffed, the volume of boymeat had died down a little, and the selection lottery was reinstated. There were three monthly categories: a random list of individual boys from the general population, the top 10 longest-serving male juvenile delinquents from every correctional facility, and a class chosen from one random school.
This month, the lottery chose Dale Bradford Elementary School for Boys, situated on the edge of a sprawling suburb. The fourth grade filled up, and the teacher took attendance.
Billy noticed the man in the corner first as he came in and sat down, and his little cock hardened instantly. He'd wanted to be snuffed for as long as he could remember. His many near misses (and some not so near) with kitchen knives, power outlets and the contents of the laundry room firmly established him as a promising meatboy, and after a few false starts he was finally getting ready to apply to the Boymeat Center. It looked like that wouldn't be needed anymore.
Leon also noticed, but was less enthusiastic. With a resigned sigh, he dumped his bag and slumped in the chair. It was disappointing he couldn't get one last goodbye with his parents. Yes, he knew what an honor and a pleasure it was to become a meatboy and so on and so forth, so it wasn't as if he was trying to get out of it, but he did at least want to finish elementary school first.
Once all the boys filed in and their presence confirmed, Mr Brown, their teacher for the first period, stood up in front of the whiteboard.
"Now, I have some important news to share with you all. This class has been selected in the boymeat lottery. That means that right now, every one of you is legally dead and property of the state. We've told your parents, so all that's left to do is introduce you to Ian, who is looking after you today."
Ian got up from his chair and replaced Mr Brown, who sat at his desk, shuffling around papers.
"Hello everyone!" Ian smiled. "I'm glad to see such a well behaved class today. We see thousands of boys just like you every day, and we like to make sure they have a good time."
He looked across the room. The boys weren't so much well-behaved as frozen in shock and surprise. Nothing he hadn't seen before, though.
"Now, before we make our way to the Center, we do have something to ask you," he continued.
Mr Brown stood up, taking a pile of papers with him. He weaved around the desks, depositing a piece on each table.
"On those forms is a series of choices. Each choice is a way of being executed. We want you to tick the boxes on the ones you most want to have. Make sure you write your name and age at the top, so we can keep track. The one with the most votes is how the entire class will go out."
Leon looked down at the sheet. None of them appealed at all, but he did have to pick at least one. From the description, a simple cattle-style culling looked like the quickest way out, so he picked that.
Billy, however, had thought about all the ways he could be killed for a long time. He'd ticked a lot of boxes on the paper, though he hoped his favorite would come out on top.
"You can talk among yourselves for a while," Mr Brown spoke up. "Bring your paper to the front when you've made your choice."
The low level of whispered conversation rose immediately into a loud chatter. Some of the boys got up and wandered over to their friends, others sat and stared at their desks. Billy was in a small group, all of whom were into snuffing like he was. All of them were half-consciously grabbing their cocks through their school shorts as they discussed the choices.
Eventually, all of the ballots made their way to the front. Mr Brown and Ian looked over them carefully, counting and taking notes.
Mr Brown stood up, and the class fell silent.
"Now, your social studies class will have told you all about how you get to the Center," the teacher spoke to the room. The door opened, and a man wheeled in a pallet full of boy crates.
"I'm going to call names off the list. When you're called, take your clothes off and put them in this trash can here, along with everything in your pockets." Mr Brown pulled a large trash can over from his desk. "Then we'll get you strapped into the boy crate and you'll be on your way to the Center."
A boy in the back of the room put his hand up.
"Yes, Samuel?"
Samuel stood up, cleared his throat and fidgeted in place. "Are you gonna tell us what is gonna happen? From the paper, I mean."
Mr Brown glanced to Ian, who spoke up. "We thought that considering the results, you're better off knowing once you get to the Center."
"Oh," Samuel fidgeted, pinching the tent in his school shorts. "I hope it's a good one."
Mr Brown called the first name. The boy, a slim, extroverted brown-skinned kid, bounced over, threw his clothes off and jumped into the crate to get strapped down. His flapping boner was locked away in the chastity belt, and the firm plastic circle that was the open butt plug was eased into his ass. Then he was efficiently folded into the crate with the straps, and a ball gag was strapped around his mouth. The man took the first crate away.
The process continued, one by one, and the state of their 9 or 10 year old erections told the story of how much they loved the reality of becoming boymeat, despite their initial shock. Even Leon, who was not the most enthusiastic piece of meat to be sent for processing, was hard as a rock when he was packed away.
The class dwindled away to nothing. Ian shook Mr Brown's hand and stepped out of the classroom.
Outside the school a large truck idled outside, the engine humming. The logo of the Boymeat Center was emblazoned on the side for all to see. The school windows were filled with curious children looking out - and at least one young couple making out at the sight of a whole class of boys being sent to slaughter.
Ian swung his way up to the cab, said something to the driver, and the rig pulled away.
The truck itself was filled with the grunts and whines of horny little boys. It was warm inside, and Billy was sweating away. He shivered and popped another youthful cum, which spewed around his cock, straining against the chastity device.
The vehicle bumped and shifted, and so did the boy crates. Hard lefts, sharp rights, winding around streets and highways, and at every turn there was a chorus of moans when the toys inside the boys shifted and resonated with the truck.
In the end, the truck shuddered to a halt. The rear doors opened, and the boy crates were unloaded and placed into the delivery chutes.
Leon ached all over from the rough transportation, but there was no respite for him. He caught a glimpse of the open sky before he was delivered to Standard Processing. That would be the last sky he would ever see.
The mechanism that Leon was folded over began to open up, and he was blasted with water and soap, cleaned inside and out, and dried rapidly. He proceeded to the standard video, which he barely paid attention to. All it was doing was prolonging the inevitable. He hoped it would be quick.
Eventually he found his way into a small, brightly-lit room, with two attendants in the back extracting the prepared boys from their transport harnesses. The room steadily filled until there were 41 naked little boys, most with the hardest cocks they'd ever had in their lives.
Once all the boys were present and accounted for, the attendants took the last of the harnesses out of the room, along with themselves, closing the door behind them.
A voice clicked on the PA.
"Dale Bradford Elementary School for Boys, Grade 4. Your fertilizer will feed thousands of crops, and thousands of hungry people. Thank you, each and every one of you, for doing your part for humanity."
From under their feet, the metal doors opened below the glass floor, giving the boys a preview of what was to come.
The room shifted and every child suddenly lost their footing, turning an orderly room full of standing kids into a sweaty pile of horny meatboys, moaning and grinding against each other.
Underneath them, the giant machine picked up speed. The huge spinning blades swept around and around under them.
Then the transparent floor began to slide away an inch at a time. The vulnerable position that the fourth grade boys were in meant that any attempts at extricating themselves from the writhing mass of bodies was of limited use.
The first boys slipped away and fell into the meat grinder. With a cry, they were obliterated into a fountain of blood, bone chips and a small spurt of boycum.
Billy was in heaven. He lay within the crushingly heavy pile of boys, some he knew, some he kind of knew. His cock was wedged awkwardly between an arm and a thigh, hard as a rock and gushing precum.
Samuel had reached the edge of the floor. He furiously jerked his cock, his face pressed to the glass. The increasing quantity of boys falling into the pit had begun to have an effect on the powerful meat grinder, and the rate had slowed, the pile on the diminishing floor steadily transferring to the mouth of the machine.
He fell, but the lack of distance between him and the top of the pile meant that he landed softly. A shy boy from the back of the class was moaning and writhing nearby, his fingers in his ass and around his little dick. Another boy squirmed underneath him.
The tempo and volume of the whirring went up and down. Boys at the bottom of the pile were churned into gory soup, and the results washed up through the natural gaps in the backed-up heap.
From the far end of the pile, it dawned on Leon that there were more kids here than just the 41 in his class. Faces passed by that he'd never seen before in his life. None of them were in any state to talk.
The room was roasting hot from the heat of the bodies and of the machine. The floor had fully slid away, and all that was left was a dwindling pile of boys being ground into fertilizer.
Samuel had reached the bottom of the pile. His arms were pulled behind him, and the blades ate into his back. With a yelp, his cock bounced and shot his last load, and blood ran from his eyes, nose and mouth. His last expression was a smile.
The blades pushed out of his face, and then it was pulled apart into chunks of skin and bone by the motion of the grinder. The brain matter emptied out of the back of his head in a pinkish-grey stew. His eyes and teeth churned and rolled around in the mix.
On his torso, large shards of his ribcage crunched around his broken chest. His heart was sliced in two with a gush of dark red blood, and his intestines burst from him, tangling around the spinning knives like spaghetti.
In moments, he joined the red mush that was the remains of the ground boys.
Leon angled himself downwards in the pile, head first. He had had enough of the wait, and just wanted it to be over for him quickly. However, his semi-hard cock betrayed his latent desire. He couldn't ever admit it to himself, but he really did find the idea of getting snuffed arousing.
When he reached the jaws of the grinder, his right arm went first, caught up in the mechanism as he was scratching his nose. His cock sprang into full hardness, and total pleasure overwrote the last of his reluctance.
The blades ate into him crossways, from his arm to his upper torso, and then into his head. He grunted and groaned, but never reached a final orgasm before the grinder minced his brain into paste. The machine worked its way up the rest of his torso. His now permanently engorged cock joined the rest of him in becoming rich nutrient-filled goop, and his legs and feet were the last to go.
Billy was in a state of total ecstasy. He'd shot multiple loads at the sound of moaning boys being turned to fertilizer. The roar of the grinder crept closer, and he shook in anticipation.
A surge of blood and guts washed up and around Billy, coating him in a deep red. (A little got in his mouth, and he swallowed it down immediately.) His fingers were plunging in and out of his 9 year old ass, digging into his prostate.
The chorus of moans grew in intensity. Letting go of himself for a moment, Billy wriggled away within the sweaty pile of boys, easing into a position where his feet faced downwards into the boymeat grinder.
He braced, squeezing his cock tightly, pinching off the orgasm.
The giant spiky circular saws ate into Billy's soles a few moments later, shredding away the flesh and shattering the bones within his feet. Billy yelled in sheer overwhelmed happiness, but kept his fingers on the head of his cock, holding back just a little longer.
The grinder sucked in the meatboy's ankles and quickly started working its way up the legs. It crushed his skinned and scab-filled knees into dust, and began to pull chunks out of his calves.
Billy finally let go and added long lines of white to the endless pool of deep red slurry, before his cock and balls disappeared into the endlessly hungry machine. It dug into his stomach and guts, which flowed freely into the pit, spooling out from his broken body.
The boy slipped away forever when the meat grinder reached his chest. His eyes remained open, looking at nothing, and the spinning blades reached his neck and closed over his head with a snap.
The unrefined boy fertilizer flowed away from the giant grinder, through an intricate network of pipes, and out into a row of tanker trucks idling in the shipping hangar. The remains of over a hundred boys slopped into the tankers. When they became full, the trucks drove away to the factories in the outer regions for refinement.
Many more boys from many places made their way into the meat grinder that day. The screams of pleasure, the whirring of the blades and the wet crunch of boys becoming nutrient-rich slurry continued into the late evening, until the Center closed for the night.