THe Dwelling The Fringe Waste Company

Author: jasfrmn12
Title: THe Dwelling: The Fringe Waste Company
Date: 19 August 2010

Beneath the Mall and all of the Dwelling is an underground chamber where all waste pipes containing organic waste is funneled from each complex and each house. Not wanting to spoil the natural beauty they had created, the Men had engineered a new waste processing that cost them next to nothing in taxes or slave wages as oppose to the horridly expensive systems that once dominated the world’s waste processing. A highly cheap system run on slave boys. Once a slave had outlived it’s usefulness in mainstream Dwelling-society Master’s and Corporations often elected to send their used up faggots to Work Camps or Medical Research facilities to make a profit off a spent toy. This Recycling process kept the unwanted and aging faggots away from their sight while still making them money. Many Master-Dads often bought their Son’s their first faggot-toy with the income generated by his own first cunt boy slaving away in somewhere outside his realm of concern, all they knew was a regular check came in the mail. When the checks stopped they could assume the slave had been used up by these Fringe Corporations.
The Fringe Waste Corporation built itself on the platform of cheap organic waste processing, with some inorganic when the market was in favor of it. A few tons of plastic sent through their system hardly ever registered with the final product, which of course was their main concern. The process was simple, each week faggots that had run their course in the Work Camps, Ranches, or Medical Research Corporations to name a few the unwanted faggots were gases into sedation, separated into body bags then loaded onto trucks and delivered to the underground facility. One of such days was total for one of the new employees, Tom. Tom was the youngest son of his Father the owner of the Waste Corporation, following in his Father’s footsteps he had just started working alongside his fellow Men before he could work his way to the top.
Walking into an elevator taking him from the surface Tom barked “Loading Dock!” for the slave chained to the button panel to send him. The skinny faggot quickly punched the proper buttons never looking up. He was pretty old for a faggot, maybe in his mid-30s, probably just an old boy they had put to work instead of installing in the facility. Joined by several other fellow Men, Tom rode the elevator several floors down into the Fringe Waste Corporation, eventually to the loading dock. The area was a simple stone opening where trucks were able to park, drop off supplies, and speed off to their next destination. One Man was in the middle of explaining his preferred method of permanently removing a faggot boy’s gag reflex when the 10am shipment came in. A cargo truck pulled in and pulled up to the unloading station with it’s cargo door facing a closed concrete chamber, the door opened and the body of the cargo container slipped just slightly enough for all the faggots inside to come scurrying out. No doubt in search of a hard cock thought Tom to himself. Once the Men were confident they had unloaded all the boys they raised Company hunting rifles and took aim.
“First to 15 gets a case of beer on the boss’ son!” roared one worker as they opened fire on their by now terrorized targets.
Normal company policy was to simply gas unloaded faggots so they could be easily transferred but to add to the sport of faggot hunting (the season was only a month away on the major preserves) Tranquilizer Guns were added to the process to give the workers some fun! One by one each faggot was hit and dropped from its frantic scurry around the room as it searched for some form of safety. Once all the boys had giant needles, or several, protruding from their limb bodies they were systematically hauled on the workers shoulders to their installation phase.
Boy by boy the Men hauled each flesh sack to the main room. It was another dark concrete warehouse encompassing a vast network of pipes and cages. Along the room walls were small, iron cages. In each was a faggot, forced on to their knees by the lowness of the cage, their head sticking out of a circular opening just wide enough for their neck. Each figure had a gas mask on with the eyes completely blacked out. The tube connected to the front of each mask and were connected to vast pipes in the room’s ceiling. Each figure was restrained and welded to the sides of the cages, allowing for no movement at all.
Within minutes Tom had installed the first faggot on the heap a the boy, or his hoses, or both, soon made disgusting sucking noises. Tom was revolted, but at the same time curios how such a young fag got here, he looked like he had a few good years in his now welded cunt. It was then that tom spotted a tattoo on the boy’s chest. The clipboard under the cage said something to the nature of the faggot trying to run away, it all made sense and Tom moved on with no sense of remorse.
Walking alongside him one of the workers glanced at the same cage and murmured, “Shame too, as he was very cute. Least the Dwelling is still, getting some use out of him. Looking down at the faggots ass. Where the slaves’s micro-dick should have been there was another hose attached, and a large hose disappeared into the hapless boy’s ass. The hoses were connected to a second set of pipes in the ceiling of the room.
“Your Dad was a genius” the worked added. “Waste recycling, very environmentally friendly! With these scum connected to the toilets and garbage disposal of the Dwelling no sewage overflow and it’s all sent straight to farms. All out shit and leftover food goes through this lot, and come out nice and processed. All organically processed! I’ll show you how we pump them full of nutrients and meds, not out of kindness, but to prolong their time here. Obviously they don’t last for very long, but I guess they don’t see it that way!”

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