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A New Pair of
Genes Part V
"Okay, Mitch. I have to admit that I'm very impressed with how you terminated your relatives, but this next guy isn't related to you--or is he? You can't off all of the male members of your family for long. You'll run out!" The young man giggled along with Miles. "No. This guy is just the run-of-the-mill virus termination victim. I only have done the final portion of his torture because he had been disappointed in his previous trainer." "Well, at least you got some good old ball-smacking in. Uh, Jeff? Why are you still hanging around? I hate to be a drag, but you can't stay." "Aw! I wanted to see more so I can decide on my own method." "A likely story, cuz. You can by the CDs or come over and watch the ones I have, but you'll buy the pizza this time, you cheap S.O.B.! Just kidding. I'm making enough here already to buy the whole damn pizza parlor. Anyway, come give me a hug. 'Bye. I'll send your dad's head home as soon as it's ready. Tell Mom I love her and that Dad went out like a real man." Jeff reluctantly left. "I don't think I'll be able to do him in when his time comes," Mitch said wistfully, looking at his relative as he got into a cab. "Sure you will! You have a deep sense of family responsibility and a sense of honor and integrity that is rare in this business. Although... if you don't do him, can I?" Both men jostled each other playfully as they walked into a small building. "Well, it's about time! I was ready to start the damned machine myself and do myself. What the fuck is taking so long?" the irritated man inquired. "Oh, shut the fuck up," Mitch teased. "You straight guys are always too eager to get things over with and don't appreciate the subtle nuances that make your final hour so enjoyable and endearing. Besides, by keeping you waiting and fearful, I'm building up the ant...iss....i...pay............shun." "Fuckhead! I am not afraid!" Miles checked the readings and mouthed to Mitch, Oh, yes he is. Big time fear! "Tough shit, then. You've had enough time to breed and pass on your ugly puss to your kids, so you can wait." Rudeness was almost required here, as it gave this man something to stew over and work up his levels of anger and fear. He paced back and forth as the youth checked over the machine. "I already checked it, asshole. You fags aren't mechanical, so i have to do everything. I checked it three times, so it's ready. Now let's get on with this shit." "If you had checked it three times, you should have done it four. Then you wouldn't have missed this!" He held out a set of wires that weren't connected to anything. "The problem with you straight men is that you think you know everything and you get so cocky that you can't see when you have done something stupid or when you've made a mistake. There. NOW it's ready to go. Now stand here on this line--Jim, isn't it?" The man nodded and stood on the line, flexing his fingers and shaking his arms to relieve the tension. "Okay, okay!" he said irritably. "I'm a fuck up, okay? But this will more than make up for that. I'm going to do this all by myself. Turn it on." Miles watched, curious as to what the purpose of the machine was. It appeared to be a collection of gears, mostly cylindrical or cone-shaped gears, and its intent was a mystery. Mitch kept the anticipation level up and just palmed the heavy switch, building up the anticipation. Just when his prey was about to explode with anger mixed with fear, he thrust the switch forward. There was a sudden jolting vibration on the floor followed by the loud whirring of the machine as the grinding noise jarred the air. Jim's stomach churned and he turned ashen, fascinated by the magnificent might of the machinery before him. It compelled him to approach, but he stood transfixed and unwilling. All Mitch had to do, however, was press to fingers lightly against his back. He moved like some zombie, utterly fascinated by the whirring movement of the gears as he walked towards the device. His cock rose up and throbbed in unison with the vibrations, and jutted forward as if pointing the way. He paused only for a moment, the lips of his penis so close to the dangerous moving metal that the wind they created dried his precum. He toyed with the machine, moving his dick away and then forward, as if enticing the machine, daring it to lunge forward and bite. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, slowly closed his eyelids, and with a self-satisfied grin, pushed his hips forward. The hungry gears grabbed the vulnerable flesh, pinching the tender meat as the man screamed--but remained steady. There was shear terror and enjoyment in his eyes as he watched the grinding gears grab his manhood and draw it into the machine, crushing the blood-filled tube to a pulp. It took nearly a full minute before Jim's hips where at the gears, the tufted pubic hair blowing about. Quite unexpectedly, and to his own surprise, the wailing man, of his own volition, pushed forward. The larger, faster-moving gears grabbed at his abdomen and hips like some crazed metal beast devouring its food. The gears if front of his pectorals first nibbled at his nipples, then grabbed at them, biting them off and yanking the chest forward. Oddly, Jim kept his arms pinioned to his sides. Although he was emitting blood-curdling screams that drown out the noise of the machine, the victim did nothing to attempt to stop this horror. Unknown to the two terminators (who couldn't see inside the machine), the man spewed his final load of semen, sans penis. The vertically mounted gears along the side moved in like the brushes in a car wash and both men heard the crunch of bone as the man was pulverized. The whole apparatus seemed to suck its prey into it and in a short time, everything but the head had been ground into dog meat--bones and all. Mitch lifted the head off and flipped a switch and the gears opened, dropping the remaining carnage into a drain. Industrial nozzles sprayed the machine. In less time than it took to destroy a whole human carcass, the machine was clean and glistening like new. "If I were to say that I am very impressed, I'd sound like a broken record," Mitch whistled and scratched his head in amazement. "Now where did you come up with THAT idea?" "Oh," Mitch shrugged, "it really wasn't much--in fact, it's my worst plan, I think. I was watching a gardener throw branches into a wood chipper and was only daydreaming about what it would do to a man and mentally designing the machine when Jim called me and asked me to make something special for him, since he is--was--a mechanical engineer. Actually," he lowered his head, admitting his ruse, "the machine was fine. He built it. I had disconnected the wires I showed him just to make his heart sink and puncture his macho pride. I do know something about machinery--I am studying to be an engineering designer. What's a record?" Miles' laughter was so loud in the enclosed room that it would have drowned out the machine. The next victim also had a machine to do him. It seems that straight men are fascinated by electronic gizmos. The more moving parts and the glitzier and more powerful the machine, the more they craved it. Horace simply stood in the center of a room with his arms above his head, his naked body trembling. "It's chilly in here!" He had lied to cover up the fact that he was shaking in fear, sweat pouring down his sides. Although his four lines didn't have the amplitude levels of his relatives, he was ready, and when Mitch pressed the button, two huge paddles with spikes (one in front of him and one behind) whirled forward. They slammed into him, impaling him as a Swiss cheese sandwich between the hurtling panels. Mitch dressed in a sleazy pirate's outfit for his next victim. He flogged the man's chest, belly, back, and cock until the man nearly had passed out. Water was thrown over the weak man to revive him. He was positioned in front of a cannon and tied so that his chest and stomach covered the mouth of the heavy, metal implement of destruction. "You've seen a man shot out of a cannon at the circus?" Mitch nonchalantly asked Miles. In India, the British used to do this," he jerked a thumb at the waiting man, "to rebels causing uprisings against colonial powers." The cannon was aimed over a small lake and he lit the fuse. It seemed to take forever, and looked almost like the scene would end with a fizzled fuse like in some cartoon. Indeed, the fuse did go out just before the final detonation. The victim groaned and sobbed with frustration. The young executioner held out a garage door remote and pressed the button. The roar of the cannon, followed by the spray of tissue and blood, startled the birds into flight. A grinning Mitch held out the device for Miles to see. "I'm taking electronics this month," |
