A thick blanket of clouds covers the night sky, suffocating the moonlight that might otherwise befall the sprawling town below. A faint orange glow reflects off the cloud cover. It's strongest at its source where the light pours out with intensity from a large industrial building at the top of the hill.

The hill is at the edge of town, and the entirety of the settlement is in view of it. The factory atop it stands as a monolith over all who live below.

The town itself is made up of shabby, rickety buildings. They're packed tightly together and possess only the bare essentials. Many don't even have doors to keep the elements out. 

The worst of the homes have long been abandoned in favor of openings in those that are better put together. Despite the enormous population the area was built up to support, much of it is left barren and devoid of any habitation. 

The area is surrounded with high walls. The gates of them are sealed tight. One exit turned dead end still has a couple of abandoned vehicles sat in front of it. A speaker system rings out with a loud voice, the same that echoes through intercoms across the entire town: "We reiterate that this zone has been selected for reassignment as testicular sustenance. Please do not attempt to leave this sector. We remind all former citizens to remain and await collection. Thank you for your cooperation."

Despite the town growing steadily emptier, it is far from quiet or still. The steady chugging of the factory above is mirrored in the constant rotation of box trucks below. 

A continuous stream is in motion. Empty trucks roll in single file down the side of the hill into the town. They disperse and take different routes throughout every street, stopping frequently to take in the town's anthro occupants a few at a time. Just as steady as the empty trucks rolling out of the factory is the eternal convoy of full trucks driving up the hill, packed to capacity with the residents of the town below. They arrive to the factory and return again empty.

In a relatively cozy  apartment just a mile from the front gates of the facility above, a small family of dogs eats dinner together. They have a small feast before them. If there's one benefit of being reassigned as nothing but sustenance, it's certainly being kept well-fed.

A solemn feeling looms over the five dogs as they poke at their food. They number a set of parents, two young adults who are brother and sister, and a twelve-year-old boy who is the family's youngest.

The dining room is modestly furnished, but the fact that it's furnished at all is an appreciable luxury. The family are the only ones in the building.

"It's... nice having so much room, at least..." the father, a Dobermann, says to the others between mouthfuls, "Didn't have this much space before."

"Cause the guys who lived here before got taken away!" the youngest, a golden retriever, retorts, "Where are they even taking them?"

The boy's older siblings exchange an uncomfortable glance. His mother pretends to wipe her face with a napkin so she can hide a tear that runs down her cheek. None of the family have had the heart to tell their youngest what fate awaits them, but they couldn't bring themselves to lie either.

"Let's just worry about today, Maverick," the boy's older sister says to spare her parents the pain of looking for something to say, "I found a few board games stashed under the couch if you wanna play those after dinner."

"Board game?" Maverick asks, "Okay, but it better not be chess again! You know I hate chess. Can't ever remember how the stupid horsies move."

"It's not. It still has the instruction booklet, so we'll learn how to play together."

Just as the parents of the family are about to let out a sigh of relief, there comes a knock on the door.

CRASH

Before anyone can even get up to answer it, their impatient and uninvited guests bust the door open to let themselves in. Three wolves in tactical gear enter, wielding batons and a brutal attitude.

"Times up! C'mon, get in the truck. Make it snappy; we're on a schedule," the first of the wolves makes his demands clear.

The mother is unable to hold back tears as she forces herself to stand. She lets one of the men guide her away by one arm while covering her eyes with the other. The father is gravely silent as he marches behind his wife with his furred hands curled into white-knuckled fists.

"You- You can't take me! You bastards-" Maverick's older brother tries to run for a window, but he's swiftly answered with a knock to the back of the head with a baton. One of the wolves descends upon him with a set of restraints, and a moment later he's being hauled out with the rest of his family.

Maverick starts to cry and wail, terrified of what's happening around him. His sister grabs him by the hand and gently shushes him. She lifts him in her arms and rocks him gently in an attempt to soothe him. She herself sniffles and puts on as strong a face as she can for her little brother.

The five of the are marched out of the building and forced into the back of the truck. Over a dozen other anthros of all shapes and sizes are already inside. Some wear restraints similar to those put on Maverick's older brother. The feeling inside is grave and hopeless.

The door slams shut, and the wolves hop in the cab or grab onto rails on the outside. The truck starts moving again, slowly working its way toward the bottom of the hill where countless other trucks merge into a steady convoy of innocent prisoners.

Every few houses, the truck stops. A few more people get tossed in the back, then it starts moving again. This repeats a few times before the truck begins its journey up the hill to the factory above.

"My fuckin' luck," laments a tabby cat in a trench coat who grips the bars covering the back door's windows, "Got out of the last sector they fed to him the day before it got locked down."

"H-Him?" Maverick looks up at the cat wide-eyed.

The tabby looks at Maverick solemnly and just shakes their head, "You'll see soon enough."

It's a bitter silence from the abductees as the vehicle travels uphill. The steady puttering of the engine provides an uneasy background noise, accompanied by the sounds of churning machinery slowly getting louder as they approach the factory above. Machinery isn't all that's churning, though.

GLRRRK SLRSH

Occasional unusual sounds echo from the factory as the truck nears the building: sloshing, gulping, wet noises that don't sound like any kind of machine. 

Maverick taps his foot uneasily on the ground. His mother and sister stand close to him and wrap one arm around him each. There is nothing to say.

After only a minute longer, the truck has backed into a loading bay, and the door opens up to a dingy concrete room. A few people in factory uniforms greet them. Their faces are hidden beneath armored visors.

The workers don't say a thing as they pull the prisoners out one by one. Any furs not already tied up are quickly slipped into a set of restraints. Arms and legs are tied firmly. Protests are muffled by a gag. 

The mouth of a conveyor belt feeds into an ominous darkness beyond. Each of the abducted furs is placed onto it as soon as their restraints are applied, and they're carried away.

"B-Be strong for me," Maverick's mother says to him as one of the worker tugs her away by the arm and forces her into tight bondage, "I love you."

Maverick begins to wail in terror as his mother is unable to hide her tears with her arms tied behind her back. She's placed onto the moving conveyor and disappears into the darkness.

With a sigh from a disgruntled worker, the little golden retriever is grabbed next. He's promptly gagged to relieve the workers of his whines. He flails and tries to fight it, but his struggles do nothing for him. He's soon restrained and placed onto the conveyor to glide along into the darkness.

The rest of his family follow behind one after the other.

GLRRRG CHURRRRRRNNNN

The strange wet gurgles grow louder as Maverick is moved through the dark tunnel. His heart races, and he struggles uselessly against his bondage.

A light appears up ahead.

GLK ULLLK SLOSH GURRRRGLE

Maverick's eyes adjust to the intense, warm glow as he exits the tunnel into an enormous room. His eyes are immediately drawn to a strange person in the center of the room, a person who takes up most of the room with his sheer mass, in fact.

A grey tabby feline sits perched upon his own genitals. His soft tail flicks around contently behind him. Though his body is no larger than the average anthro's, his balls certainly are. 

The enormous round orbs take up the bulk of the space within the entire building. The floor is sunken in several stories down to make room for them, and they're so wide they brush up against the walls.

Far from a smooth, rounded surface, his scrotum is alive with moving bulges, vaguely shaped like people. From Maverick's view of the giant, full balls, he can't make out too much further. He hasn't even a faint guess on how many people must be trapped inside. High above, the end of the conveyor feeds more and more inside through his urethra.

His name is Slate, and in his lavish arrangement, he's utterly awash with pleasure. He barely pays attention to the enormous industry surrounding him, feeding countless lives into his shaft to be sacrificed to his nuts. He can hardly even hear the machinery over the wet squelching, gulping, sloshing, and gurgling of his own cock and balls processing people by the hundreds.

Maverick approaches a point of convergence on the conveyor. Several other belts merge into one, each carrying a similar, constant flow of bound people taken from the town below to be turned into ball batter.

Ahead, the conveyor ascends upward in a spiral, climbing to reach the pred's hungry shaft. Now with a few strangers between them from other belts, Maverick glimpses his mother beginning the ascent. In a few seconds, he'll be on his way up as well, and the rest of his family will follow shortly behind him.

GLRRRG GLK SLORSHHH GROAAAAN

The sounds only grow louder. Maverick stares wide-eyed as he begins his fateful ascent. The elevation provides him a better view of the giant, full balls of the pred filling the room and several stories below.

The live, squirming anthros only make up the top layer of Slate's ball stuffing. Just above ground level, the solid, writhing bulges soften into horrific, amorphous shapes that melt and break apart. Below, comprising the portion stretching far down into the open lower levels are countless bones. Rigid bulges shaped as skulls or femurs or ribs dot the majority of the pred's full balls. The light doesn't reach the bottom, so Maverick can only blindly guess at how utterly massive the gurgling, sloshing orbs must be.

This sight and its implications are all that occupy Maverick's mind as he makes his upward spiral. In the cacophony of wet squelches and sloshes and gurgles, a certain rhythmic sound becomes louder and louder the closer the boy gets to the end of the conveyor.

GLK ULK GLRK ULP GLK

Every couple of seconds, there comes a grotesque sound almost like swallowing. The closer Maverick gets to his final destination, the louder it becomes. It dawns on him that he's hearing the other people being engulfed by the pred's privates. It dawns on him he'll be following soon.

One of the swallowing sounds coincides with his mother's disappearance a few spaces in front of him on the conveyor, though he doesn't even get to see it with the space put between them on the line.

When he finally reaches the top, his eyes dart around in increasing panic. They're briefly drawn to a large digital sign affixed to the wall of the open room where the pred is sat.

'Estimated time to Zone 8 sustenance reassignment completion: 8:23:12:45:13'

'Next sector slated for reassignment: Zone 10'

His eyes are then drawn directly ahead of him, where they become fixed in place.

GLK ULK

As the conveyor carries him along, the head of the pred's cock becomes more clearly visible at the end of the conveyor. He struggles to see around the otter ahead of him, but the entire shaft stretches and undulates to let each prey inside.

ULP SCHLRRRRK

The person ahead of him slips inside. This time Maverick gets a clear view. The feline's urethra opens wide, and without any resistance takes the otter inside. Their entire body slips cleanly into it, and in barely over a second their feet are disappearing from view, leaving the ominous gaping hole leaking precum with nothing but a few vanishing inches between it and Maverick.

SCHGLK

The little dog tries to struggle as his body is enveloped by the pred's giant cock. The soft, wet, hot interior replaces the open air of the factory. He has no opportunity to act before his entire body is removed from the outside world.

SHLLLLRK SLRRSSH GLRRRGGGGG

There's no conveyor supporting him now, no solid ground. He's sliding head first down Slate's urethra, and only the pred's genitals surround him. 

Then, he joins the countless people trapped inside. This has been his inevitable fate for days now, unbeknownst to him. Now it's finally arrived. Though he isn't the first of his family to be plunged into the squirming mass and he won't be the last, he doesn't see anyone familiar. He slides along between the walls of the pred's balls and the warm, struggling bodies inside until he slips into a small nook between a cat and a horse.

It's never completely static inside. The pred's ravenous nuts continually grow outward as they stretch to accept more prey, and the entire mass slowly sinks down as the lowest layer of living furs melts and compresses into the bone pile below.

The pressure is overwhelming all around Maverick from all the other people trapped in the distended space. He can't even begin to imagine how many others there must be in here, with nothing to look forward to but a melty demise.

GLORP SLRSSHH GURRRGGGLE

Time becomes a blur for the little boy. The sloshy liquid sounds grow louder the longer time goes on, though perhaps subtly so in how slowly he moves downward toward the churning mass of cum and bones below.

The people around him get softer. He thinks he feels part of someone coming off as liquid spunk. He isn't sure.

What he is sure of is the hard objects prodding into his soft body. There are bones beneath him, wet and covered in viscous fluid. The little dog isn't sure if he slipped past the people who were below him or if the bones are those people.

GURRGGGLE SLOSH CHURRRRNNN

There aren't many other anthros now. Countless above, sure, but not a lot around Maverick. Only their remains.

The boy feels tired. His eyes start to close. His body feels soft and fluid. His limbs wear away to nothing but the skeleton beneath.

He suddenly feels something prod his face.

Maverick opens his eyes momentarily. It's hard to see, but there's something in front of him. A canine skull has filtered down through the melting bodies above to him, who will soon be naught but bones. He doesn't know if it was one of his family. There are so many people stuffed inside just like him that there's no way of telling. It doesn't matter now.

The boy fades away. The factory churns on. He's pressed further down into the bone heap filling Slate's balls.

SLORSH GLRRG GLK GWRRRG

Above, the pred remains absent-mindedly rubbing his shaft. Every couple seconds he feels another firm body press against his hands from inside, and he knows it won't be firm for long. He simply basks in the fullness and the pleasure. All the deaths, the families destroyed, it's all worth it for this. This is what those people were always meant for.

They existed to be manufactured into ball batter. Nothing else matters.

Half lucid in his pleasure, Slate turns toward the sign.

'Estimated time to Zone 8 sustenance reassignment completion: 8:06:33:02:15'

'Next sector slated for reassignment: Zone 10'

No shortage of pleasure awaits him.