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The Weird Photoshoot

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David was a highly regarded professional photographer in the field of advertising photography. He specialized in street photography and sold his photo shoots for famous product brands or published and resold them on specialized internet sites.

He was in the process of preparing the equipment for a special job. A new client had asked him, through his web page, to find and photograph a new model for an advertising campaign. The client from MC Guy, a company that David wasn’t familiar with, wanted to find a male model that wouldn’t be one of the usual, famous professionals who posed in those false, smiling postures. Rather, they wanted a simple, normal-appearing boy, off the street: a student or a young laborer, preferably straight or that seemed to be. All of the physical requirements were listed on a long form attached to the email from Mc Guy.

It was all rendered more complicated by the fact that the client wasn’t requesting the creation of a book, as usually happened, but required the photos he shot to be instantaneously transmitted to the internet cloud, so they could be viewed immediately. David didn’t want to make a bad impression with this new client, so he had geared up with a set for immediate transmission of the shots via 4G. He would shoot the photos and they’d be in the cloud in a few seconds, where they could be viewed. Afterwards, the client would immediately inform the photographer if the model was to his liking. David made a note of this innovative procedure. He’d be able to make use of it and suggest it to other clients.

Since, among other things, the client was explicitly asking for photos of boys in which the entire physique was visible, the only doable solution was to go to the nearby beach in Fort Lauderdale. And that’s what he did.

He began a long, hot, work-day of photo shots. On the weekend, the beach was full of boys and girls who were swimming, sunning themselves or exercising along the areas set up for sports. Many were bothered by the photographer’s presence, realizing that he was shooting photos of them. Nevertheless, David was standing at a distance with the telephoto lense, trying not to be noticed.

In the case where he liked a photo and planned on selling it, he would have the subject of the portrait sign a special release. All in all, he was doing everything professionally and according to the rules, which made him credible. In short, he wasn’t the usual voyeur taking photos of boys and girls for his own personal enjoyment. And the client well knew this in entrusting him with that task.

After several hours and hundreds of shots, David was wondering if the system of photo transmission was working. He had already taken photos of boys that, in his opinion, corresponded to the model requested by the client.

The system was working perfectly.

Some men were gathered in a small, smoky meeting room, seated around a table, all of them turned to look at a large screen on which various photographs were continuously appearing. The table didn’t have the usual corporate appearance, but was furnished with liquors, beers, cigarettes, cigars and snacks. Many were sipping on their drinks while others were smoking. There were some who were nervously chewing some nuts and others were visibly massaging their private parts. It was a heterogenous group. Some men were fat, others thin. Some were elegant, while others were in overalls. They were of various races, but with one particularity that united them. They all appeared to be rich. They displayed pricey wristwatches on their wrists and thick, gold rings on their fingers.

In the meantime, David was continuing his work on the beach, taking a photo of a boy who was about to dive from a small pier, watching the target with a smile. The boy dived backwards and disappeared from view.

The photo appeared on the monitor in the hall and an increasingly insistent murmuring arose. The general atmosphere grew more heated. Everyone turned toward an elegant, rather elderly, man, who took his cell phone and wrote a brief message: “We want him.”

The ringing on David’s phone informed him that a message had arrived. He took the cellphone, read the message and let out a sigh of relief, drying the sweat from his forehead. “Finally,” he thought. Maybe his work was finished, but there was still a delicate task awaiting him: he needed to convince the boy.

Manwhile, everyone in the meeting hall was staring at the photo on the screen. They were impatiently waiting for confirmation.

David went to meet the boy who, getting out of the water, stopped on the shore, waiting for the heat of the sun to dry his skin. The boy saw David approaching and heading straight for him. Originally, on the pier, he had smiled at him, thinking he was just being portrayed in some landscape photo, but realized now that he was probably the main subject of the photo.

David approched in an amiable manner. “Hi, kid. I’m David, a professional photographer.”

Although suspicious, the boy replied politely, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Kody.”

David continued, “Pleased to meet you, Kody. I’m here to look for and photograph new models for a publicity campaign and I think that you’ll do quite well”, not mentioning that the boy’s photo had already been transmitted and the client had already chosen the subject.

Kody looked at David suspiciously. He saw a man in his forties, slightly overweight, with an unshaven beard. He was dressed like a typical photographer: with a vest, two cameras and a shoulder bag. He was wearing long pants and sneakers.

Noticing the boy’s confusion, David pulled out his agency’s business card, handed it over and pointed at a billboard. “You see that advertisement up there? The one with the ice cream and the smiling boy? Well, that’s mine.” Kody looked at the business card, then the billboard, then the business card again. He thought, “Then this is serious.” He gave a hint of a smile.

David continued, “What are you doing in life?”

Kody replied: “I’m doing some chores to pay for my studies. Tonight I’m working in a pub.”

Taking advantage of the boy’s obvious need for money, David advanced, “And wouldn’t it agree with you to also do some modelling, to round out it out a little?”

Kody gave him a perplexed look. “Me, a model? I’m certainly not as muscular or good-looking as the guys in the billboards and magazines.”

“Beauty and physique are relative,” David replied. “It depends on the requirements of the client, the product and the publicity campaign. Marketing is a complex thing.”

Kody nodded and said: “And what would I have to do and how much would I earn?”

Not knowing exactly what the client wanted, David answered, “You’ll need to make some photos in completely natural poses, in a studio or in the open. The client will give you $5000 in compensation.”

When he heard the figure, Kody gave a broad smile that was too spontaneous to disguise his own joy at that offer and, without thinking about it, said “I accept!”

Relieved at having found the model, David asked: “Meanwhile can I shoot some other photos to complete the book and show it to the client?”

The boy nodded. “What should I do?” The photographer said “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you the various poses to strike while I’m shooting.”

In the meeting room, photos of the boy began to follow one another. From close up it was even better than the first shot from a distance. He wasn’t the classic, muscular gym rat, but he was unbelievably well defined, with a smooth torso with abs and a flat stomach that appeared to be sketched, ending in a V in the skimpy swimsuit. The attractive, muscular legs ended in two fine feet with wide soles. He had large pecs connected to a swimmer’s shoulders and arms, with visible veins. He had a young, innocent face with a cute smile and his head was covered with short hair. On the photos showing the back, the whole zone of muscules was visible that, starting from the neck, ended in a nice central groove between the round, firm butt cheeks.

The atmosphere in the hall was getting more nervous and agitated, but no one was talking. Some poured themselves another glass of liquor, some stuck an entire handful of peanuts in their mouths to chew. Some were smoking a cigar, others had begun to masturbate, sticking their hands in their pants.

David took thirty shots, know how to exploit the model’s characteristics, even if he preferred photographing female models.

At the end of the shoots, while Kody was about to reach for his backpack, which had been left on the sand with the towel, and return home, David texted a message to the client. “He accepted!”

On the other side, the reply came after a few seconds. “You may proceed. We need him today. Thanks, great job. We’ll transfer your compensation this evening.” The elderly man in the meeting hall placed the cellphone on the table and picked up his cigar again, simply saying “Gourmet”, which generated a palpable general euphoria while the photos of the boy were continuing to run in a loop on the screen.

David joined the boy, who was putting on shorts over the swimsuit and said, “The client wants to meet you”. Surprised, Kody replied, “What, today?” “Right”, David answered. “But what will I do about my job?” the boy protested. Awkwardly, David said, “How would I know? Tell them you’re sick. Dammit, they’re giving you 5000 dollars!” Kody thought about it and said “When and where?”

“They’ll call you. Give me your cell phone number.” Kody gave it to David, who sent it to his contact at MC Guy, with the boy’s name.

“Well, this peculiar job is done”, David thought, considering that they were paying both him and boy well. Originally, David had asked to also personally shoot the photos for the publicity campaign, but the client insisted that, for that job, they had an in-house photographer.

David took his leave of the boy. “Good luck, Kody. Do your best!”. With a smile on his lips, Kody replied “Thanks for everything”.

Kody was walking towards his bicycle and wondering why the client was in such a hurry, even though he hadn’t seen the photos yet. Maybe David’s word was enough and the client was acting on faith. Suddenly, the cellphone rang, from an unknown number. The boy answered, “Hello.” From the other side there was a mature, calm voice. “I’m Benson, the administrator of MC Guy. Are you Kody?” “Yes”, the boy answered. “Excuse the rush, Kody, but, you know, business doesn’t know any breaks. I wanted you to immediately meet me and my collaborators for the first, test shoot”. The boy replied, “Yes, David had mentioned that, but I’m heading home for a shower and to get ready.” Benson replied, “Don’t bother about that. We’ve reserved a room for you where you can shower and get ready.”

Kody hesitated. He sensed there was something odd. Everything was happening in such a rush. From a dive in the water, in less than an hour he was already an aspiring model. “Tell me, Mr. Benson, what does it mean that you have a room?” “Oh, excuse me, Kody. I hadn’t told you. The photoshoot will take place here, at the Golf Club Sea Resort, during a special event.” Kody knew the place, luxurious, very famous and exclusive, only frequented by rich people coming from all over the world. All the boy’s uncertainties vanished.

“But I'm not presentable at the moment. I only have a pair of shorts on, and no shirt”, looking at his torso, covered with sea salt and feeling inadequate. “Don’t bother about that, Kody. Show up at the service entrance and an employee will take you directly to the room, without ceremony.” After a pause, Mr. Benson asked, “When can you be here?”
Kody looked at his bicycle and said “About 20 minutes.” On the other side, Mr. Benson concluded “Good. Hurry. We’ll be waiting for you then.” The the communication was broken.

Kody jumped on the bicycle and began rapidly pedalling on the highway, heading north. The resort was located in an isolated area, several miles north, but he didn’t have any other means of transport. He absolutely didn’t want to be late. Mr. Benson seemed like a serious person and they were offering him a unique opportunity.

He arrived a few minutes early, as the sun was setting, completely sweaty and exhausted from the pedalling. He headed toward the loading zone of the structure behind the resort. He put the bicycle away and walked toward the service entrance.

As soon as he’d entered, he was stopped by a guard. “What are you doing here, boy?” Kody replied hesitantly, “Mr. Benson invited me.” The guard examined him from head to foot and said, “So it’s you. They alerted me. Please give me your backpack. I’ll keep it here and you can take it back when you leave.” Kody unwillingly handed it over. Inside it were his cellphone, his wallet with his papers, and the housekeys. The guard took his wireless and called someone.

After a few minutes, a tall, fat man in a cook’s uniform arrived though a side door and looked down at the young man with a strange smile and said, “Hello, Kody. We were just waiting for you. I didn’t know that you’d show up practically nude already. Come on and I’ll take you to your room to freshen up a bit. Follow me!” The boy uttered a timid “Okay” and followed the chef.

While they were walking, Kody thought, “What did he mean that I was “already” practically nude?”

They passed through various hallways, all of them under the main building of the resort, the boy thought, witout meeting anyone else, until they arrived in a large kitchen in which other cooks and assistants were occupied with preparing the set-up for dinner. All of them turned toward them. “I present you Kody,” said the chef and they all nodded as a sign of greeting. Kody wondered what he had to do with the kitchen and felt like he was being observed. He was right. Various cooks were examining him closely: a young man, sweaty, bare-chested, with a pair of low-waisted shorts and a pair of old sneakers worn without socks.

It seemed that they’d grabbed him from the street and taken him there without warning. “You seem like a shy boy”, the chef said, continuing “They told me you were a model. Show these loafers your muscles.”
Hesitating over this unusual request, but excited at showing off his new job, Kody lifted his arms behind his head, remembering some poses from the beach, arched his breast forward and tightened his abs. A strange silence reigned in the kitchen. He felt the looks on him, caressing him, and blushed from the embarassing situation. In the back of the kithcen, a cook commented out loud “Careful, boy! Remember you’re in a kitchen. You risk finishing up in the oven!” With those words, Kody suddenly took back his normal posture while the cooks burst into laughter.

The chef yelled “Shut up, moron. And you others get back to work”. He said to the boy, “It seems that we’ve done the due presentations, let’s continue.”

As they were crossing the kitchen, Kody could still feel the looks on him and wondered that that “done the presentations” meant.

The other door of the kitchen led through a corridot to a storehouse with a little room as an annex. It wasn’t what Kody had been expecting. It wasn’t a room in the hotel but, rather, a room for the staff to rest in, with a bed and a door that led to a small bathroom with a shower.

“You can refresh yourself and rest a little here. In a bit, Mr. Benson should be arriving with a photographer”, said the chef as he was departing. Kody was disappointed with the treatment. He had already created an expection of a five-star room, with whirlpool bath, and room service, as if he was a star. “Keep your feet on the ground,” he said to himself and suddenly hurried into the bathroom to tend to his needs, followed by a shower. He stayed there for ten full minutes, also taking advantage of the top quality products there: the soaps, shampoo and hydrating creams surely were part of the set of products at the disposal of the guests in the normal rooms of the resort. Finally he dried his hair and, with a small towel wrapped around his hips, went back into the room.

He stayed struck with surprise on the threshold of the door, seeing an elderly, elegantly dressed man sitting on the bed, with a younger person with a camera in hand next to him. “Excuse me if I startled you. I’m Benson,” the elderly man said. Finding himself practically nude in the presence of the admiinistrator and his photographer, with the intimate parts protected only by the towel, Kody was more surprised and embarassed than frightened. The old man didn’t take his eyes off the young man. His regard seemed profound and even instilled a certain fear. The photographer, on the other hand, seemed to be there just by chance. He was much different from David in his manner of dress as well as his camera, a simple digital one that he used, for the most part, on automatic.

The old man continued, “Thank you for being punctual, Kody. In business that’s an important feature”, talking like a company manager. The boy kept on standing there, immobile and tense, a little out of embarassment, a little because the room didn’t have any place to sit. “Certainly, sir,” Kody responded in a respectful manner, without having anything to add.

“Now I’ll explain everything”, Mr. Benson said. “You see, boy, we’re about to initiate a series of events, or special dinners, at this resort, in an exclusive, reserved hall. As I’m sure you know, we have various international clients, many golf players among them, who frequent the resort. They’re all very wealthy, sophisticated people, accustomed to leisure and all the comforts. It’s really very difficult to satisfy them. So we need to create something new that might become an attraction, an added value to the experience of their stay”. Kody, who was studying economics and business, thought this was a completely sensible thing to say. “To do that, we have to tantalize them, tempt and excite them with photos we use as promotional material,” Mr. Benson said, staring at Kody even more intensely, from head to toe.

The boy was very perplexed now, wondering what the venture was and how he’d be involved at the photographic level. Mr. Benson seemed very interested in the boy’s body. Was he the new attraction for the customers? Was he supposed to prostitute himself? The boy’s face darkened.

Mr. Benson asked point blank “Have you ever heard of nantaimori, the human sushi plate?” Surprised, Kody said “Yes, I’ve read something about it and seen photos of nude girls being used as plates for serving sushi ….” but didn’t finish the sentence. Finally, he understood. That certainly was what they wanted from him. He curtly said, “No, don’t even talk about it!”, while he lowered his head and looked at his own body, imagining it covered with disgusting, raw fish.

The old man sighed with disappointment and said, “Too bad, boy. It’d be an easy job for you, easy money.” He pulled a wad of hundred dollar bills from a pocket. The boy stared at the money the same way the old man had been staring at him. Kody decided to examine the topic more deeply. “But I’m not a girl?” Mr. Benson replied, still in a quiet tone, “As I said, we have to accommodate the preferences of all the customers and, among them, there are those who prefer to eat from a male plate, preferably a boy like you. As you can imagine, the nantaimori is just an excuse for savoring good food while devouring the body before them with their eyes, a sort of visual cannibalism. You understand me, right?”

“Sure,” Kurt responded hesitantly, without looking the old man in the face, continuing to stare at his own body instead, thinking that the gay customers certainly would have enjoyed a sushi plate using an attractive body like his. Seized by a sudden concern, he asked “So, if I accepted, I’d be naked?” After a few seconds, the old man replied “You wouldn’t be completely nude. Your intimate parts will be covered by leaves, vegetables or other side dishes … but you never know how the customers will behave at the table”.

The old man kept on holding the money in his hand in plain sight, like a carrot. He added “You’ve heard the proposal. So what have you decided?”

Kody looked at the money, the old man and the photographer, looking for reasons for rejecting the offer, but didn’t find any. “Okay”, he said. In his heart, he knew that they had bought him, but that money made it damned easy.

“Well said”, the old man said, putting the bills back in his pocket and adding “the photographer will be shooting photos of all the phases, from beginning to end. Don’t pay any attention to him. Everything should seem as natural and spontaneous as possible. But follow closely the instructions of the chef, whom you’ve already met. He’ll tell you what to do and, more importantly, what not to do. I’ll take my leave now, boy.”

Now Kody guessed the reason for the presentation in the kitchen, where he’d surely soon return.

The old man got up and left the room, while the silent photographer kept on sitting there waiting. He seemed more embarassed than the boy was.

After a few instants, the chef came in, saying “Mr. Benson told me you’d accepted. We need to start the preparation immediately.” He took the young man by the arm, decisively dragging him down the corridor toward the kitchens. “I hope you’ve taken care of your bodily needs, boy. It’d be embarassing for us, you and the guests if something happened during the dinner.”

They were walking along the corridor toward the kitchens, which could be glimpsed in the background: a tall, fat cook with a half-naked boy next to him, much more slender, even if muscular, compared with the chef, and seized and practically dragged by the arm. He heard the click of the camera at his shoulders. The photographer thought this would be the cover image.

The chef’s staff was waiting for them around a long, narrow table on wheels, with a black cloth on top. The cook let go of Kody’s arm in front of the table. “Boy, lie down on top”, the chef ordered. The boy was perplexed. The chef’s way of behaving was pretty rude now, less friendly than at their first meeting. But now he’d accepted that job and thought about that wad of bills. Kody lay down, making himself comfortable. The cloth was fairly thick. It certainly wasn’t a mattress, but it was warm and soft on contact with his skin. Anyway, his body was lying on a flat, rigid surface and that showed up his physique nicely, especially in contrast with the black cloth. His torso looked like a flat table of skin, furrowed by small features of flesh, his muscles. At his shoulders, an assistant placed a low cushion under the young man’s head, so he’d be more comfortable. The boy thought that they sure know how to do things. The chef ordered “now place your hands behind the head.” The boy carried it out without thinking about it and the cook continued “We need to immobilize you.” At these words, the young man reacted agitatedly and almost yelled “What?”. In the meantime, the assistants had taken his wrists and ankles with soft, padded leather, simultaneously fastening the young man’s limbs to the four corners of the table. The chef tried to calm him down. “Easy! … it’s the normal procedure. We don’t want someone who’d move during the dinner. You need to stay motionless the whole time, as if you were dead.”

His heart beating strongly, Kody felt his wrists and ankles being pinched, even if wrapped in something soft, after which he was stretched out unbelievably on the table. He was tensed up, with all his muscles stretched to the point of spasm. He heard the clicks of the camera.

He looked at himself, helpless and laid out like that, with the cooks around him staring at his body. “It’s time to remove the towel and take a look at the rest” said the chef. The towel was slowly slipped out from the boy’s pelvis while many eyes were watching the scene. Kody became red in the face from embarassment. He heard several clicks in a row from the camera. Perhaps with jealousy, the chef commented, “You’re well equipped down there. It’ll be hard to cover you well.”

An assistant asked the chef “Should we depilate him?”. The response was “No, it’s going to be a dinner au naturel.”

The phases of preparation began almost immediately. He felt his hands and feet being rubbed and well polished with a disinfectant, he thought probably because he’d walked there barefoot. With large silky brushes that provoked a tickling sensation in him, some sous-chefs began successively spreading a sort of vegetable oil over his entire body, including the intimate parts.

There was a certain frenzy in the kitchen for the preparation, but everyone knew what to do. Some were chopping, others were preparing the sushi and others were boiling the rice, but he still felt like he was being observed, in the center of everything.

Most of all, the butcher, who was preparing the meat, was staring intensely at him while sharpening some knives. A click of the camera could be heard. The boy’s torso and intimate parts were framed in the photo, with a cook in the background, grimly staring at the human meat while sharpening large knives. A mouth-watering photo, thought the photographer.

Kody, on the other hand, didn’t particularly care for the butcher chef who was sharpening the knives. He thought that, if that cook went crazy, he could cut him in pieces and serve him up like so many little steaks. A cold shudder ran down the young man’s back. In the meantime, the preparations were continuing. His body had become covered with sauces, sushi, tartar and vegetables … no part excepted. Finally, to cover his privates, a large lobster was placed, still hot, whose feet were pricking the boy’s legs while the large pincers were resting on the perimeter of the abdomen, around the navel. The photographer took one picture after another. He thought this would make a fine artistic spectacle. It looked like the crustacean wanted to eat the boy’s abdomen.

Afterwards, a large roll of white paper was taken out and Kody’s body was completely covered, from head to foot, by a sheet of paper. The young man could only see the light and shadows through the paper.

The cook picked up a telephone in a corner of the kitchen and said “Dinner is served!” A few minutes passed and a waiter arrived. The chef said, “You can serve him”, then, turning to the young man, “I advise you that you’re dead. Don’t breath, don’t talk, and don’t move. Stay in the role”. The waiter took the large table and pushed it like a cart. He crossed the kitchen and the corridor up to a large elevator. They went up, went a short stretch of the corridor and entered a small, reserved room. The diners were already there, impatiently waiting.

The setting was quite dark and elegant, with barely audible classical music in the background. Kody couldn’t see anything through the paper. Everything was dark, with a few flashes of light around him. There were eight diners, seated around a C-shaped table, laid with dishes, forks, knives, glasses and wine. The table the boy was lying on fit perfectly in the “C”. The photographer placed himself at the guests’ shoulders, in a corner, so as not to disturb them. Clicks from the camera could be heard. Aside from the background music, an unreal silence reigned, with some inaudible breathing. The boy’s heart was beating heavily. He couldn’t see anything, immobilized and with the smell of raw food and sauces irritating his nose.

At a certain point, he perceived that the waiter was slowly drawing the sheet of paper away, gradually revealing the hands, arms, head and neck, slowly descending to the feet. It was as if he was delicately unwrapping a beefsteak wrapped in butcher’s paper.

Kody finally saw the diners’ faces. Faces with an unpleasant expression that were moving to look at the dishes served on his body or, rather, his body itself, as the sheet was gradually removed.

“Dinner is served, gentlemen,” said the waiter in a professional tone before closing the door. “If you want something else, just call me.”

Suddenly, the boy realized that he was alone, practically nude, powerless and tied up, with strangers around him. Mr. Benson’s words echoed in his brain “ … it’s just an excuse to savor good food while devouring the body you have with the eyes, like a dish, a sort of visual cannibalism.” He could see in the eyes of those men that it was a much too real cannibal desire. The boy was struggling not to yield to panic, but remained calm, motionless, looking at the scene with open eyes, fixed straight ahead, like he’d been told. He had to pretend to ignore them.

He heard their breathing getting heavier, but no one spoke. After some instants, the thinnest one began first, rather timidly, taking a piece of sushi from the boy’s breat with chop sticks, putting it in his mouth, and showily chewing it. The others suddenly followed suit, in a few minutes devouring everything that the boy was offering on his own body, rapidly leaving his skin and muscles exposed and visible. They seemed impatient and voracious. All that was left were the large lobster and some traces of sauce. Everything was in absolute silence, only the ominous sound of the chewing and swallowing, accompanied by unmistakable, eager looks aimed at the boy’s body as if it was a succulent, tender filet of rare meat, to be consumed. They seemed like a pack of wolves.

Kody thought the dinner must be finished and how easy it had been, in the end, to earn $5000 in an evening by offering his body as a dish. The preparation in the kitchen was a lengthier job than the duration of that dinner, that now had concluded. Kody thought the waiter would be arriving to take the cartload away. He’d take a nice, hot shower, ask for his compensation and go home with a nice wad of bills in his pocket.

But the diners were still there silently staring at him. They were looking at him while slowly, imperceptibly moving their mouths without chewing anything. Some of them had trickles of saliva on their chins. The boy thought they were really obsessed, keeping on eating him with their eyes and who knows what they were imagining in their minds. Then a fat man moved, took the lobster in his hand and put it on his own plate. The boy’s cock and balls gave a start, but he didn’t breath. He didn’t want to contravene the rules. The old man had advised that that it’d be hard to foresee the clients’ behavior. The lobster was the last piece of the cartload, so the boy thought he ought to be patient. But the fat man didn’t seem interested in the lobster.

Kody noticed that the breathing of the other diners was getting heavier and their looks more intense. Their mouths were moving more showily with tongues sticking out and licking their lips, as if in front of a delicacy. The boy contracted his muscles and unconsciously tucked in the abdomen, perceiving the intensity of the crazy desire of the diners to eat him. Then he realized, from the rapid movements of their forearms, that two diners were probably masturbating. Kody thought, “How disgusting. Now that’s going too far.”

In the meantime, the fat one who’d taken the lobster was staring at the boy’s cock with malice and a dribbling mouth. He got up, leaned forward and moved his huge face closer to the boy’s private parts. Kody sensed the fat man’s hot, panting breath on his cock, and saw a large tongue stick out of the mouth, that slowly gave a long lick along the entire cock. Looking at him and feeling the touch of that rough, sticky tongue, the boys wanted to say something, but restrained himself. The fat man licked his lips with the tongue, as if to better savor the result of this tasting, and seemed satisfied. Then there was another touch with the tongue, longer and more intense, starting from the balls. And this time, again, Kody ignored it. Then the fat man opened his mouth wide and swallowed the boy’s cock, as if he wanted to chew it. This time the boy reacted with an altered voice. “What are you doing?” The only response was that all the others also got up and began licking the boy in various parts with their tongues. One was licking the sauce from the breast, another on the arms. Others were biting the abs, thighs and feet.

Kody began to fidget, but realized his mobility was limited. He could arch slightly and move the pelvis, but that was all. And, the more he did it, the more the diners were enjoying it. He shouted “That’s enough! Stop it!” The only response was that a diner took a napkin and, forcing the young man’s jaws open, stuck it in his mouth so that he couldn’t speak. Now panic stricken, the young man began barely breathing through the nose.

The diners pounced on the body like wolves on their prey, insatiable. Licking it, biting it, pawing the flesh with hands that seemed like pincers. Kody wriggled and tried to evade the tongues and teeth. He felt like he was being eaten alive by wild animals. His body was pervaded by painful stimulants, teeth penetrating his flesh, but pleasurable stimulants at the same time, like the lengthy licking. He realized that the fat man was giving him a slow blow job that his cock wouldn’t be able to resist. The situation lasted a long time. His body was groaning, too many mouths, bites, tongues. Too many stimulants and sensations. Now hard as iron, his cock was in the fat man’s throat, as if he wanted to swallow it whole, and, without realizing it, he came for long moments in the fat man’s throat, with violent muscular spasms. The fat man continued swallowing all the young man’s sperm.

Completely overwhelmed and exhausted, his body abandoned him through the spasms, continuing to endure the teeth of human beings that seemed like wild animals.

Then, suddenly everything stopped, just like it had started. Some sat down at their seats, wiping their mouths with napkins, while others were on their feet, with their hard cocks out of their pants, masturbating while looking at the boy’s body. The first spurts of hot sperm came out, bathing varius parts of his body, while another diner pointed his cock directly at the young man’s face. Kody saw the cock in his face and closed his eyes. Before realizing it, he sensed splashes of sperm wetting his face, sticky and hot, with a disgusting smell penetrating his nose.

The young man lay there exhausted, covered with bites, traces of sauce, saliva and sperm, full of deep bites from which blood was running. His muscles were aching and his heart was beating strongly under the painful breast. He thought he’d report them all. They’d practically raped him and tried to eat him alive.

One of the diners rang a bell on the table. After a few moments, the waiter arrived and opened the door, saying “Was the first course to your liking?” The diners nodded. “Can I take the orders for the main course?” continued the waiter, taking out a notepad. Without replying, the fat man who’d sucked on the boy’s cock pointed at the penis, testicles and the butt. “Very good,” the waiter repeated. “Penis, testicles and a piece of ass.”

Kody couldn’t believe what was happening. He looked at the waiter writing down the order and tried to scream, but the napkin in his mouth prevented it.

Another diner pointed at the chest, abs and one of the feet. “Excellent choice,” said the waiter, always in a professional tone as if this was normal. Kody thought, “No, this can’t be true. It’s unreal.” In his mind, he saw the scene again when he had entered the kitchen bare-chested. He saw the looks of the cooks, the chef’s request to display himself for them and show off his muscles, the butcher sharpening the knives while he was already immoblized for the preparation. “How could I have been so stupid?” he thought, and started crying.

All the diners continued indicating their preferences while Kody kept on squirming and letting out suffocated cries, with tears in his eyes. “With your permission, gentlemen, we’ll try to work quickly. The processing of fresh meat is rather lengthy.”

The diners saw the young man trembling with fear, amid tears and suffocated cries, while the waiter took the table to convey it to the kitchens, followed by the photographer, who was supposed to document each phase of the slaughter.

Smiling, the diners stood up and made a toast.

A few days later, Mr. Bension was complacently viewing the photos on his lap top. He had recently moved to this part of the country with his staff and leased part of the resort for meetings and events, including the secondary kitchens normally used just for catering. When the number of boys that had gone missing got too large, it was his custom to move far away, from one state to another. This was the first time that his organization was operating in Florida.

He told the photographer, who, in reality, was an IT expert, to send the encrypted photos, inserted in a digital catalogue, to all the customers of the organization, with a description of the resort. They surely would receive many reservations. Afterwards, he wrote an email to David. “Dear Mr. David, the boy from last time showed himself to the height of our expectations. However, for the next photo shoot, we’ll need a boy with different characteristics. I’m attaching the form. Yours sincerely. Signed, Mr. Benson, Administrator MC Guy”.