Chapter Text
The advertising campaign was so effective, they hadn't selected any boys in months. The Boymeat Centers across the land were overrun with youngsters aching to get snuffed, so much that they had to schedule appointments and hire new staff.
12 year old Danny Watson had waited so long for this day. He saw the transport van pull up in front of his house, and flying out of his clothes, he launched himself straight into the shipping crate by the front door, yelling for his dad to come and strap him in.
The arrangement of straps in the crate was designed to pull the boy into a fetal position as painfully as possible, wrapped around a hard metal frame. That was good for Danny, because in this world, little boys were built for pain.
At school, he would routinely get into fights, before a teacher pulled him aside and gently informed him that if he wanted to get the shit kicked out of him, all he had to do was ask.
So once every couple of days, the designated school bully would tenderly tie him up, roll him over and slam a foot into his ribs, neck, and stomach. Often he would call his friends over and have them rain thundering blows into his belly and his abdomen, leaving him bruised and sore all over by the end of recess, and later on when his balls started working, a white load blown into his pants.
Then it was a trip to the school nurse, a few minutes in the regenerator and he'd be back in time for class.
Danny groaned in pain as his father grabbed his arms and roughly twisted them behind his back. His cock began to lengthen into an erection, but the included chastity device was quickly wrapped around him, and his hardening cock mashed into the wall of the too-small metal pocket. An open buttplug, pre-lubed, was pushed into his ass with a slurp.
Dad gave Danny one last tender tongue-kiss, and with one hand on the back of his head, bent his son down, locking the torso strap into place with a click, pushing a metal bar hard into his stomach and ribs. Danny was now totally folded over, facing the bottom of the crate, and the last strap, which included a ball gag, was strung around his face. He opened his mouth, accepting the small red ball that would silence him for the next few hours.
His father wheeled him outside to the waiting van. The driver, dressed in plain white clothes and a low-brimmed cap, took a scanner out of his pocket and pointed it at the barcode on the box. After the beep, the cover slid over and he was loaded into the van.
Muffled grunts and moans from the boys around Danny was all he could hear for the next hour as he was bumped and shuffled around. Yet he stayed awake, his boyish erection straining against the chastity device, the throbbing aches and pains from being strapped down spiking pleasure to his cock. The van stopped and started, picking up more and more boys destined for the Boymeat Center.
The temperature grew cold as the day ended, and then he could feel a different kind of movement. His crate shook as if it was being carried, then a smooth hum gently vibrated throughout as it was placed on some sort of conveyor belt.
The top of the crate was pulled off and a hand reached down and touched his ass, before snaking further and pinching his balls. The telltale sounds of a factory were like music to his ears. Danny had arrived!
The mechanism he was tied into was lifted out of the box, and he caught a glimpse of the factory floor. Ten, twenty conveyor belts, with attendants opening boxes and examining the boys inside, before the robot arms took over, extracting the boys from their crates and placing them on different rails leading to different places.
Danny was headed to Standard Processing. In quick succession he was blasted with soapy water, given a rough and speedy enema, a burning-hot blow dry, and then pushed into another machine which wound back the straps, forcing him into a sitting position.
His eyes flicked from left to right. A row of boys stretched far off into the distance on each side.
There was a sudden flash, not bright enough to blind, but enough to attract attention. A large video-wall sparked into life, and speakers blared out the orientation video. A middle-aged man, dressed all in white, stepped into frame.
"Welcome to the Boymeat Center. You are here because it is your time to do your part for the people."
Danny sucked an excited breath into his lungs and held it there.
"Every boy who enters the Center is destined to become one of many things that will benefit humanity. You may feed them."
The screen flipped to the scene of a family enjoying a boy roast. The boymeat had many delicious portions carved out of him, his eyes rolled back and his cock permanently hard, his last orgasm fixed to his face and body.
"You may fertilize our crops and plants."
A long line of boys, one by one, stepping into a life-size woodchipper. Each boy annihilated in seconds, and every one shooting a rope of cum as they were turned to mincemeat. The video cut to a huge barrel slowly filling with the minced remains.
"You may power our towns and cities with renewable energy."
Ten boys, writhing over each other, fucking and kissing in the scoop of a digger as they were thrown into a furnace.
"Whatever your choice today, we thank you for doing your part for mankind. In just a moment, you will be making your way to one of our advisors who will assist you to your final moments. We wish you all the best in your demise."
Danny's cock throbbed against his bindings, and his heart jumped into his mouth as he dropped into a deep, dark hole.
"Let's get you out of this, kid," Jim said to the boy delivered to his office. "What's your name?"
"D-Danny," the boy shivered, adjusting to the change in temperature. Jim's warm hand touched his shoulder and began to undo the straps that held him onto the frame. He was free in no time, and rubbed his arms and legs where the bindings were. His cock throbbed in the cool air.
To the right of them was an examination table, which Jim invited Danny to lie down on. The adult sat at the computer on the opposite side of the small room and tapped away for a moment.
"So, it says here you're going to die by crushing."
"Uh huh! I love getting beat up and stepped on, and getting crushed is like, all I ever wanted!"
"Well Danny, we've got something very special for you. Come with me."
Danny jumped down from the table. Jim grabbed a keycard, and the pair of them walked out of the office. Down a long hallway with hundreds of similar looking doors, up and down and around, until they reached a small locked door.
Jim sank a hand into his pocket and felt around for a moment, before pulling out a small key and unlocking the door. He waved the boy through.
They stepped out onto a long walkway in a vast room. Below them were hundreds of transparent cubes, each a room containing a boy getting snuffed. At the middle of the walkway were some steps leading to nowhere, and a small reader, on which Jim tapped the keycard.
From the bright depths, a single cube rose. An empty room, containing...
"You ever see one of these on the freeway, Danny? An asphalt roller."
Danny nodded, grinning wildly.
The cube locked onto the platform, and the doors within them opened.
"After you," Jim said, and Danny leapt into the room.
The big, yellow machine loomed in the corner. Half-tractor, half giant concrete wheel, usually for flattening asphalt on highways, but today, flattening Danny. Crushing him to death.
"So, let's talk about how this will go for you. I'm gonna tie you down to the floor here, go into that," Jim pointed at the roller, "and start crushing you from the feet up. Then we're gonna spin you around and pop your head, and squash the rest of you after you're dead. This is all being recorded, of course, and your dad will be sent the video when it's up on the Center's website."
A minute later, Danny had ropes around his wrists to hold his hands above his head, his legs were tied together, and his cock strained in the warm air.
The deafening roar of the road roller's engines echoed throughout the room, and the machine towered over the small boy. Then it slowed. Danny had been at least half-hard he got into the crate, but the sight of the giant industrial machine coming to destroy him jolted his cock to full hardness.
Danny pointed his toes forward, allowing the roller to slide over them, easing on more and more pressure, and then it began to work its way up his legs.
With a crack and a squish, the legs collapsed into a gory pancake. Danny's cock jumped. The roller kept going, relentlessly working its way up the boy's legs, crushing more and more.
The closer it got to his crotch, the more Danny's cock bounced up and down in place.
And finally, the roller found his balls, slowly crushing them flat. Danny shot rope after rope of cum all over his chest in his last orgasm.
The roller reached his still-erect cock, mid-orgasm, and in a single movement, jumped up and crushed his cock and pelvis.
Danny finally let out the breath he'd been holding. In the face of unbelievable pain, he screamed in orgasmic pleasure.
The splinters of his pelvis crunched around in his body, spiking his lower internal organs, popping his stomach, which quickly deflated. Danny's vision swimmed, having already lost a lot of blood.
From the cabin of the asphalt roller, Jim noticed what was going on, and sped up a little.
The concrete roller pulverized Danny's lower back, crushing it into dust and gore, and stopped just before his ribcage. The vehicle quickly reversed, and a turntable cut into the floor spun the boy around.
The top of Danny's head was now facing the blood-smeared asphalt roller. A voice clicked on the PA.
"Daniel Watson. The fertilizer you give us will keep a hundred crops healthy. Thank you for doing your part for humanity."
Danny grinned a wide red smile, blood bubbling at his mouth.
The machine roared forward, meeting the back of his head, and crushed it into multicolored paste. It flattened the rest of his dead body with a long series of pops and crunches, and thundered to a halt.