The Haunted House

Jon and Andrew stood in the front lawn of a large, imposing farmhouse that looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. Portions of the once stately three story building's roof looked like it had partially collapsed and several columns of its wrap-around porch were missing; most of the windows were boarded up or broken and its once white paint was peeling and yellowing with age. The abandoned home, miles outside the city, looked like the perfect site for a haunted house.

The two Amajor University sophomores had responded to an online ad that seemed too good to be true. Someone had bought the old house and was going to stage an elaborate invite-only haunted house that was advertised to be a mix of sexy and scary, with a heavy emphasis on showcasing the dozen or so local college studs, including Jon and Andrew, who had responded to the open call for models to dress as sexy zombies, jacked ghouls and slutty demons. Jon and Andrew had to submit photos of themselves showing off their ripped abs and muscular bodies to even be considered, but once they were accepted the gig seemed pretty easy; they would get dressed up in whatever sensual costumes the event organizer could come up with and basically be living decoration for the elaborate show to come. 

Scattered over the yard were hyper realistic fake arms, legs and even a few heads with looks of absolute terror etched into their silicone faces. One of the legs had a bone sticking out where it would have been attached to the hip and, in keeping with the erotic nature of the haunted attraction, there were several pairs of severed, bloody fake scrotums that looked like they had been ripped off and tossed to the ground, the realistic testicles inside slipping out of a few of the bags. Man, these decorations are so realistic, Andrew thought.

"Hello there!" came a deep, and frankly creepy, voice from the doorway.

Andrew and Jon turned to look and were greeted by a tall man, at least six foot five, wearing a tattered butler uniform splattered with fake blood, standing there with a wicked grin on his face. Behind him were two much shorter men who were naked except for loincloths, their skin completely covered in hyper-realistic greenish scales and their faces done up with the best Halloween makeup Jon or Andrew had ever seen. Their eyes seemed to glow yellow as their disturbing makeup made their faces look like a mutated cross between an alien and a zombie. The elaborate makeup, along with the short yet muscular men's animalistic movements would have made them look at home on the set of a big-budget Halloween horror movie. Even though Jon was a huge fan of horror movies, the two actors' uncanny appearance made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

The tall man stepped off the porch to greet them, introducing himself only as The Host and pulling out a folding phone from his breast pocket to find Jon and Andrew's names on a list. He smiled as he eyed the two studs and Jon could feel himself being mentally undressed by the imposing daddy. Jon and Andrew were both just shy of six feet tall with toned, muscular bodies and matching shoulder-length black hair. At a glance, the two college guys could have been mistaken as brothers

"..And these are my demon pets," he smiled as the two men lept from the porch and approached the two frat boys-turned-models with amazing alacrity considering their small, meaty frames. Andrew felt mildly uncomfortable as the two 'demons' stood next to him making grunting sounds and giving off a strong smell of ammonia and rotten meat. Up close, their makeup was even more realistic; they actually looked like scaly, demonic creatures...

As the two frightening looking men slouched awkwardly next to them, Jon and Andrew listened as the host explained what they would be doing for the evening. The elaborate haunted house was going to spare no expense from the moment guests arrived and the first thing visitors would see were the fake body parts on the lawn, with Jon and Andrew - who would pretend to be dead - jumping out to give the entering guests a fright.. The scene would look like the two ‘demons’ had just ripped apart a bunch of guys and scattered them across the lawn. The two demons grunted and let out something between a laugh and a howl.

Andrew and Jon were directed to two pre-dug holes near the entrance that looked like shallow graves.

"All you have to do is strip and get in. You wouldn’t be comfortable in your clothes!" the man gestured, the large grin on his face taking down the uncomfortable, almost horror-movie atmosphere that had been building.

Jon and Andrew shrugged and stepped out of their clothes showing off their impressive fit bodies. The host seemed to especially enjoy the two sets of fat, low hanging balls between their legs. The two demons hurriedly took away their clothes as the two college students lay on their backs in the faux graves which were the perfect depth for their heads to still be able to poke out once they were buried, which they were in short order. Instead of using shovels, the two demon actors used their hands to bury them up to their necks, using their arms like muscular shovels and moving with impressive speed. As they did so, Jon found himself at eye level with one of the fake arms in the lawn and was taken aback at the level of realism, every hair was meticulously placed onto the hyper realistic skin, the fake blood was the perfect color and even the somewhat rotten smell was well done...

"Hey cut it out, creep!" Jon yelled, Andrew looked over to see his friend had been completely buried, only his head sticking up with the fresh dirt making it look like he was indeed buried in a grave. The demon who had buried him was digging over where Jon's balls would be and in no time the two rotund genitals were sticking above the ground like two plump mini pumpkins. Jon tried to get up but the wet dirt was heavier than he thought it would be.

"Cut it out... fuck!" 

The demon who had been burying him struck Jon across the face with the back of his hand. The scales made the slap feel like it was from a sturdy leather paddle and the power of the delivery made Jon dazed.

"Ah, perfect!" the host said, "Needs to look realistic!"

A bloody gash had opened up on Jon's cheek and after another blow his eye was blackened.

"What the fuck!" Andrew shouted before the demon burying him did the same.

Jon and Andrew screamed in pain and confusion as the two demons punched and scratched at their adorable faces.  After less than a minute the two frat boys looked like they spent hours putting on bruise-makeup only this was no illusion. Andrew and Jon shouted for help but the actors inside couldn't hear them and they were hours from the opening of the show so no audience was nearby yet. The host smiled at his minions and said something in a strange language before turning curtly and going inside the house. As soon as the door closed, the demon over Andrew squatted down and started digging over his crotch until his own plump spuds were poking out of the grave. The only things visible were the two boy's bruised heads and their nuts, which looked even bigger without a body to give them a frame of reference.

"Fuck, man this isn't worth it..." Jon renewed his efforts to escape but was immediately struck by a demon weiding one of the fake arms like a club.

"Holy fuck!" Andrew screamed. It suddenly dawned on him seeing it up close that the reason the prop arm looked so real was because it WAS real! He started desperately trying to claw his way out but the wet dirt now felt heavy.

"What the fuck!" he shouted as the dirt, which had been mixed with quick setting cement unbeknownst to the two students, continued to set. The weight was becoming unbearable, pressing down on both of their fit bodies and making it harder to move.

The two minions smiled wickedly at each other and disappeared around the side of the house. Jon and his friend struggled to get free, shouting out for anyone who could hear them. Suddenly the sound of two loud, small motors could be heard and Jon instantly recognized what it was. The two demons had started lawn mowers and considering he and Andrew's vulnerable position - their heads were literally the same height as the ground - he didn't want to see just how realistic this haunted house was going to be.

The two demons rounded the corner, each pushing a large old fashioned lawn mower, headed straight for Jon and Andrew.

"Help!" Andrew screamed at the top of his lungs.

The demons ran the mowers so close to the two trapped student’s heads that the wind from the blades made their hair move. Next the demons started mowing over the scattered severed testicles and dicks, which Andrew and Jon were now sure were actually real. Sack after sack erupted into a spray of gore and chunks until the lawn was covered in splatter. Next the demons methodically mowed over every ripped-off dick, turning them into unrecognizable piles of meat. Jon and Andrew screamed and begged, trying desperately to move but their bodies were entirely encased by the now-set concrete mixture. They were trapped. 

After the demons were finished destroying every nut sack - there had to have been at least twenty scattered around the two trapped young men, they stopped their lawn mowers and stood over Andrew. Andrew wailed in terror as the two demons rose their gnarled feet and began stomping on his defenseless nuts, squashing them into the dirt. They took turns and grunted in delight as the college stud’s sex pods were mercilessly stomped.

“Oh God!” Andrew wailed. 

“Andrew!” Jon screamed, trying desperately to get free. 

The two demons just kept stomping until Andrew’s sack was an unhealthy shade of purplish black. Andrew, who was overwhelmed with terror and pain, looked up and let out one final shriek of horror before blacking out. Jon could only look on helplessly as his buddy’s chances of ever having kids were stomped out of existence. Andrew’s left nut cracked causing his sack to rapidly swell much to delight of the hideous creatures.

One of the creatures stopped stomping on Andrew’s nuts and instead took a few steps forward and hovered his disgusting foot over Andrew’s passed out head. Jon’s face became white with terror as he feared he was about see Andrew’s head cracked open like a pumpkin...

“No! Please don’t!”

Shockingly, the demons seemed to heed Jon’s truly desperate pleas and Andrew’s skull and last-whole nut were spared. At least for now. Without a word, the two monstrosities lumbered over to Jon, one of them squatted down and took his plump right nut in his hand, the hand feeling cold and scaly, but before Jon could even register what was happening the creature was squeezing with all of his might. He was stronger than any human Jon had ever encountered. Much, much stronger.

“Ooooh!” Jon wailed which made the watching demon squeal in satisfaction. 

The creature’s meaty fingers dug effortlessly into Jon’s nut, almost instantly rupturing it as if the sturdy membranes were nothing but cheap Halloween decorations. Jon literally couldn’t see straight, his mind was a phantasmagoria of terror, panic and dread. He used to watch slasher movies and muse about how he’d react when faced with that situation and now he unfortunately knew; he’d be completely overwhelmed to the point of blacking out, which he promptly did. The creature let out a howl as his fist compressed Jon’s nut beyond all realistic limits of surviving. 

Jon’s egg sized nut was compressed entirely too flat and had burst, the large organ splitting in half in his bag with the suddenly-released trapped pressure causing a literal muted ‘pop’. Jon’s bruised face twitched but his unconscious mind barely registered the sensation of his cum factory being decommissioned. For good measure the other demon stomped - more like jumped - on Jon’s sack until his left nut was swollen and purple turning his ruined right nut into sack sauce in the process. 

Pleased with their handiwork the two demons got back behind their lawn mowers and turned them on. The sound of the rumbling engines caused Andrew to groggily come to. He screamed out from a burst of adrenaline as he watched his buddy’s busted nuts turn into a shower of disgusting gore. Jon’s beefy, fat and tenderized spuds stood no chance against the powerful blades and the resulting mess was unlike any special effect Andrew had seen in even the goriest horror movie. Unfortunately for Andrew, he didn't have much time to reflect on the awful thing he had just witnessed as seconds later the other demon casually mowed over his own helpless ball bag. They were naturally quite large, but the earlier beating and the rupture had made them swell nearly twice their size....

“NOO!”

SPLOOOSH

The mower’s blade, a relentless scythe, tore into the enormous testicles, turning them into a bloody pulp that splattered the lawn. There was nothing left but a chunky, gooey mess that oozed and squelched beneath the wheels. The mess had been so cataclysmic that his face was dripping with what looked to be the insides of a very meaty pumpkin. Andrew blacked out and the two demons grinned and took their places outside the door to greet guests.

To a casual observer, the lawn just looked like it was covered in ‘fake’ body parts and unrecognizable piles of goo splattered everywhere. The two hyper-realistic ‘fake’, bruised yet handsome college guy heads sticking out of the graves added to the aesthetic. 

This was going to be one helluva haunted house...

Breakfast for One

This story was written in collaboration with by buddy Charn. He's open for commissions so hit him up because he's really quite talented :) You can reach him at Charndatiger@gmail.com

Justin and Drake woke up before their alarm, the light coming in from the stunning picture windows was enough to stir them. Justin had booked a weekend at The Lux Resort Hotel in the City's bustling downtown as a way for them to reset their relationship. Justin had caught Drake cheating on him with their housekeeper Kyle. Well, "Caught" was the wrong word. Justin had been checking up on Kyle's OnlyFan's page and found a video of the slinky tousle haired Kyle being Chicago deep-dished by a very, very familiar cock. Granted, Kyle was a delicious 20-year-old twink but Justin had assumed that Drake would have taken their wedding vows as seriously as he had... though Justin could hardly be surprised Kyle had fallen for Drake.

Drake’s truly enormous, heavy cock made a constant bulge in his pants even when he wasn’t hard. The massive thing was 10 inches flaccid and ballooned to a hole-stretching 15 inches when fully hard. Justin loved it, the thick shaft with its bulbous head and ridged veins was enough to make any man whimper. It had such a presence that Justin could hardly believe he was allowed to touch it. He loved how it felt in his hand as he stroked it, the texture of the skin on his fingertips as he ran them up and down. 

Drake’s cock was truly something to behold with its crown-like shape at the top and its girthy thickness at the base. Every time Justin held it in his hands, he had to take a moment just to admire its size compared to his own smaller organ. He would wrap both hands around it and feel every inch of its length, marveling at how perfectly designed Drake's huge tool was for pleasure. 

As impressive as that powerful cock was, Drake’s testicles were just as much a show stopper. They were massive and heavy, like two egg shaped oranges in Justin’s hands. The density of his testicles was remarkable; they felt as solid as a rock when Justin squeezed them gently, the scrotum so tightly stretched around them that it seemed as though it might split with even the slightest pressure. He could feel their weight in his hands, the meatiness and richness of them made him gasp out loud. No matter how many times he had seen them before, Justin still found himself amazed by Drake’s impressively heavy testicles. Between the hormones they filled Drake with, and the size of that massive piston between his thighs, Justin was actually surprised Kyle hadn’t been split in half!

Drake had spend the intervening week desperately apologizing but Justin seemed oddly undisturbed, suggesting a staycation in the city would be a good way for them to reconnect.

“I love you...” Drake whispered into Justin’ ear.

Justin pretended not to hear him as he rolled out of bed, put on a robe and picked up the room phone. Drake slipped into his robe admiring the city views from the window as his husband placed their breakfast order.

“Food will be here in about thirty minutes. Think that’ll be enough time?”

Justin pulled the belt of his robe, letting it fall to the floor revealing his taught, middle aged body.

“I mean, I’m not a twink or anything but...” Justin gave his husband a sly grin. Drake flushed with embarrassment as he disrobed and approached Justin.

"Now, let me see this big bad piece of meat," Justin smiled as he knelt down in front of Drake. Ten inches of thick, soft dick hung down in front of him, the broad hose lazily curling over the twin weights of Drake's equally impressive testicles. Justin know that Drake's cock was what made Kyle fuck Drake, and that those fat eggs were what made Drake fuck Kyle. He cupped them, one big ball per palm, lifting them up and grinding them together against the root of Drake's rod.

Drake got harder, looking out the window at the city laid out below them. He was standing right by the window and he knew that someone out there was staring up at the sexy daddy with the massive cock in the window.

Justin began to lick and suck along Drake's cock. Drake moaned at this; Justin had given up long ago trying to get his behemoth into that cute little mouth of his, and the feel of his husband's hot wet lips and firm tongue had him throbbing hard and needily against Justin's lips.

Justin continued to taste him, increasing the pressure and speed as he went. His tongue traced a delicate lin along the stud's puffy cumslit, tasting the salt and musk that clung to the man's massive, beautifully shaped cockhead. He refused to suck on his husband's cock, instead only letting him feel the tip of his tongue, as his hands massaged and stroked the rest of his body.

He used both hands to twist and tug on Drake's massive balls, pulling and stretching them down until the already-stretched scrotum gleamed and seemed ready to tear loose of the man's tensed groin. He held them in place with one hand, keeping them stretched, helping those tight cords and muscles relax and get used to them being pulled away from Drake's body, as he stroked up and down the length of that thick, veined shaft. He smiled, his fingers pausing at the tattoo of a curling knot of barbed wire that lined the root of his husband's shaft. It was that tattoo that had confirmed that Kyle was fucking Drake, after all. He owed that tattoo some credit. 

Drake moaned softly and Justin smiled, pleased with his work as his husband began to try and thrust into his mouth. Justin let that broad head just brush through his lips, nudging against his teeth, and bit down gently at the big head, but at the last minute he eased off. Drake groaned, but Justin was unwilling to let Drake cum just yet. H preferred to keep him teetering on the edge of orgasm, while re-exploring every inch of his husband's body, as if for the last time. Justin stroked down from Drake’s cock to his inner thighs and lower stomach, stroking fingers through that thick fragrant bush, and massaging Drake's muscles, encouraging him to relax. He shifted hands on Drake's balls, always keeping them held down, stretched lower and lower, even after Drake complained about the ache it created in his belly. The pain grew, but so did the pleasure, and Justin seemed perfectly adept at keeping them in balance to make sure Drake was always just unable to cum. 

Drake was enjoying the frustration; his massive 15 inch cock swollen with need but not being allowed release. It felt amazing, and he wanted this attention to last forever. 

'Perhaps if Justin had done this sooner, I wouldn't have cheated on him,' Drake thought, eyes closed and smile wide with satisfaction.

"Come on, Justin... let's see if we can get this whole thing down your throat," Drake suggested, eyes gleaming. "You know how much I love a good deep throat."

"Maybe," Justin replied, as he licked slowly over the precum bubbling from Drake's dick. "It's been a long time since I've had such a big piece of meat in my mouth." There was a knock on the door, interrupting them. Justin stood up, and the two men put on their robes. In Drake's case, there was barely any point, as the massive tent was not something that could be hidden. He folded his dick up against his belly and tied a knot with the belt around the base, keeping it pinned in place, but precum drooled down the underside of it.

“Room service,” a burly waiter announced as he entered the room with a cart. Drake thought nothing of the two other waiters entering behind him, one of which was carrying what looked like a countertop griddle. They were on the penthouse level, maybe extra servants and food prepared in-room was part of the experience, Drake thought. He stretched his arms above his head, watching the large cart as it was rolled in front of him, not noticing as the extra two waiters stood just behind.

Justin pulled up the silver dome of the delivered food, revealing two plates with pancakes, fresh fruit, even two small cups of grits. a large bottle of syrup rested to the side, glass with a large stopper on it.

“Ah, everything looks great but you forgot the sausage...” 

Drake snickered. "Well that sucks, you love sausages." Drake didn't care if the waiters overheard, he was extremely horny and Justin had left him very close to cumming. He groped his nuts through his robe, leering at his husband. "Of course, if you need one-" but before he could finish, arms wrapped around and under his own, strong arming him into position and pushing his thighs up against the cart.

“What the...”

Justin just smiled and leaned forward. "A sausage, you say?" He pulled the belt on Drake’s robe, a heavy BONG resonating through the room as more than a foot of thick Drake meat slapped down onto the silver platter, oozing precum and nestling up against a stack of pancakes. It was thick, the broad cap reddened from the previous stimulation, and it was unabashedly male. The three waiters were momentarily stunned at the sight, jaws gaping at the display, but all three of them stayed on mission. Justin smiled widely, and gripped his husband's cock by the head, gently squeezing and stroking it.

"Yes, this sausage should do..."

The young man who had been wheeling the cart pulled something out of his pocket and approached Drake. It was a cheese cutting wire, with two wooden handles at the end. Justin tugged on Drake's erection, stretching it as firmly as he could away from the stud's groin.

“What the fuck!" Drake exclaimed, as the waiter used a finger to stroke his scraggly pubic hair back from the root of his shaft, baring the barbed wire tattoo.

"Stop!”

Drake struggled in vain as the waiter casually tucked one of the handles under his cock and looped it around, gently tugging the two handles until the thin metal wire was snugly snared around the root of his cock, exactly around the barbed wire tattoo.

Justin smiled, “I figured that if you're gonna treat this big dick of yours like meat, that I might as well, too. This is gonna be one hell of a breakfast.” He adjusted his grip on Drake's cock, stretching it even further away from his body as the waiter pulled on the two wooden handles. The thin metal wire bit into Drake's flesh with a surprisingly gentle pressure, gradually slicing through the skin like a hot knife through butter. 

Drake felt an odd tugging sensation in his groin as he watched in horror and fascination as tiny red beads of blood bloomed out from where the wire disappeared into the skin of his cock, dripping onto the table below. He could feel the wire, pinching and compressing and sawing through the root of his dick - feeling the whole thing go numb. He could see Justin stroking the end of his cock, but he couldn't feel it. With one final pull, the waiter's hands tugged sharply taut, the cheese wire straightening out now that there was no bulky dick blocking it.  Drake's prized 15 inch cock flopped down, severed by its root, flopping down onto one of the plates with a wet thud. 

Drake had been so transfixed on watching his cock's execution that he hadn't even thought to protest, but as the burn of pain from severed nerves lit up his brain, he began to wail and scream in denial.

"My cock! My cock you sick fuck, you just cut off my COCK!"

The waiters stood motionless as Justin picked and held up what remained of Drake’s member.

"Cock? I don't see a cock here."

Justin brought the severed dick to his face, and licked lewdly up along the length of it, from dripping cockhead to the severed root. "All I see is meat." 

He handled the cock, stroking and kneading it between his fingers. He had never been able to do so so freely, and the thrill of holding his husband's severed dick made his stomach thrill almost as much as the thought of what was coming next did. He moved to the end of the cart, where the waiter who had severed Drake’s dick with wire was setting up the griddle. The waiter wiped the inside of the griddle with a bit of butter and smiled as Justin callously dropped Drake’s severed dick on the hotplate. It hissed, the flesh flexing as steam cooked out from inside. 

Drake screamed as he looked on in horror. 

The griddle sizzled and popped as the fat rendered from the sausage and a nice even char began to form. Justin continued to press down on the sausage, watching as it slowly cooked in a pool of its own juices. The smell of cooking meat spread throughout the room, mixed with the masculine scent of Drake’s arousal that had already been filling the room when the waiters arrived. After a few minutes, Justin flipped the sausage over and gently rolled it back and forth. He smirked and pushed down on the head with the spatula, making sure to pan fry the delicate frenum that was just underneath the dick's head, frying that sensitive patchwork of skin. 

Drake sobbed as he watched his proud shaft turn from an ass-pleasing testament of manhood to a well cooked polish kielbasa. He placed Drake’s thoroughly cooked dong on the plate next to the pancakes and smothered the entire breakfast platter with syrup, making sure to coat Drake’s charred, burned meat sausage with plenty of maple syrup.

Justin took a fork and knife and sliced into Drake’s cooked cock, cutting behind the glans and lifting it up into the air, the meat still steaming and dripping sweet syrup.

“Oh, look honey, isn't this what you wanted, my mouth full of your cock?" Justin teased, as he stuffed the whole piece into his mouth. It was quite the mouthful, and as he bit down, juices and syrup sprayed from his lips. Justin covered his mouth, pretending to be embarrassed, but then made a show of chewing and savoring the massive mouthful of his husband's huge cockhead.

Drake could do nothing but watch helplessly as Justin ate his massive, cooked penis one bite at a time. He felt violated and humiliated, unable to comprehend the horror and degradation he was experiencing.  His hips twitched with each bite as the darkened, crispy sausage was consumed and savored in a way that he had never imagine and would never experience again.  It felt like an eternity before Justin stuffed the last few inches, with bits of barbed wire tattoo still hinted at, between his lips and swallowed them almost whole. Drake's prized fifteen inch dick was... gone. 

Justin put the plate back on the cart and grinned at Drake in a smug, satisfied way. “Wow, I don’t think I’m going to have room for the pancakes,”

Justin wasn't kidding. Drake’s big dick had been surprisingly meaty and filling, the flesh salty and crispy and juicy in a way that Justin couldn't help but savor. He hadn't even realized he had devoured it all until the last bit went down his throat and he went to cut off another piece... and found none. He looked his husband over, enjoying the patched up bandage that the waiter had applied to his husband's groin while he was enjoying his meal. A massive snake had hung down there, between Drake's thighs, for decades... now there was nothing but a couple bandages and two remarkably large testicles.

"Damn, Drake..." Justin said, and he could swear his belly growled in hunger, despite having a pound and a half of cooked meat inside it already. "I never noticed how big... and meaty... those balls of yours were."

Drake was crying, and afraid, and in pain. "I'm sorry, honey. I'll never cheat again, I swear. Please. Please just let me go."

"I don't know..." Justin replied, a playful smile on his face. "Those balls look delicious. They look like they'd go great with pancake syrup."

"No!"

Justin sighed in mock exasperation. "You don't get it, sweetie. You don't get to decide whether I'm gonna ruin your balls or not. If you're really nice, I'll let you decide HOW I'll ruin them. What do you think? Should I pan fry them whole, like your dick? Perhaps I should scramble them in their sack and make a soufflé? I've got a coffee maker - maybe I should boil them? The possibilities are endless! What's not endless, is your genitals. We only have one chance to cook them juuuuust right. I just can't WAIT to see what they're going to taste like. It's not my fault, though, I mean, I watched the porno with you and Kyle. You really REALLY wanted him to gulp down your nuts, right? So... here I am. Ready to gulp down your nuts. And you just seem so ungrateful!"

The thought of the juicy meat that would come out with each bite excited him as he imagined all the different spices and seasonings he could use to make these balls taste like something entirely new. Whatever way he chose, Justin knew it wouldn't be boring - Drake's big, meaty 'eggs' promised a delicious breakfast treat.

He grabbed a few spices from under the cart and sprinkled them onto the griddle before adding a few drops of olive oil for good measure. Then he placed Drake's oversized testicles onto the griddle and started cooking them slowly over low heat. As they began to sizzle and brown, Justin inhaled deeply, savoring their aroma. He scooped up some of the butter and oil with the spatula, drizzling them over the crisping flesh.

"No, no, please! OW! NOOOO!" Drake pled, but Justin was smiling, living in another world. For too long Drake had ruled their relationship with his oversized package... and Justin was enjoying 'evening the score', as it were. He hmmed. These fat balls were too big. They were going to take far too long to cook like this. Making an executive decision, Justin held the metal spatula by the handle, so that the front edge of it was perpendicular to the griddle. He pushed down, slicing the blade down into the center of Drake's left testicle, feeling the flesh simmering around the hot blade. He pulled it loose, and repeated the process on the right one, half-bisecting both egg-shaped balls. White flesh sizzled in the oil that crept into the opened organs, as Drake screamed and passed out at the excruciating pain.

That was fine. Justin picked up a hamburger press, the asterisk shaped metal weight perfectly suited for Drake's hamburger-patty-sized nuts. He lined it up on top of the first one, and pushed down with both hands, putting his weight behind it. The weakened testicle bulged, and then crushed, collapsing into itself. Frothing meaty gunky flesh spit out across the griddle, as sperm juices immediately cooked from clear to white. Justin grinned and moved it to the second testicle, repeating the process. The big balls were completely ruined now, the undersides cooked, the tissues crushed and simmering in their own juices. Taking the spatula, Justin flipped the massive scrotum over. The waiters blushed, watching this morbid recipe be created, but Justin just smiled at them.

"I like my eggs fried hard, don't you?" He used a spatula to cut the flesh free of Drake's entirely denuded groin, and the waiters brought the unconscious man over to the bed, to sleep off the trauma.

Then, the waiters left the room, surreptitiously checking their own goods, glad that they were not the guy who got caught cheating.

As for Justin? He sat down with his plate of scrambled eggs and syrup, and loaded up with his delicious, meaty breakfast.

POPS: Nobalz Gym

Illustrations by Whistle. His blog is here.

It was a typical day at the Nobalz Gym. Nobalz was a small, no-frills establishment in the seedy part of town and the guys who frequented prided themselves for being real macho men. They didn't spend a fortune at the boutique, glossy gyms that attracted young millennials nor did own any expensive home equipment like Peloton bikes or fancy elliptical. The guys who worked out at Nobalz were real man's men who loved working out their tight, muscular bodies in the small, dimly lit and somewhat dank little gym. Something about the place harkened back to an earlier time when 'men were men' and working out was the point, not showing off.

Unfortunately, one day three unrelated, completely disastrous mishaps took place that made the gym truly live up to the phonetic reading of its name 'No Balls'.

Morning: Trevor and the Weights 

Trevor was hot and he knew it. The twenty-five year old was a regular on the body-building competition circuit with his broad, well-toned chest and abs and his tree-trunk legs. Fueling his gains were his enormous baby makers that swung between his thighs. Even though Trevor consciously wore loose-fitting trunks (and nothing else) to work out in, everyone in the gym knew that Trevor's balls were huge; the slightest movement of his torso would make his lemon-sized, low hanging fruits brush against the fabric making an obvious bulge. As usual Trevor swiped his card to let himself into the gym and was pleased to see it was empty. He changed out of his clothes and walked to the free weights area wearing only a pair of baggy white shorts.

His legs were still sore from a punishing workout the day before, so he decided it was time to work his upper body. He worked up a sweat, his pecs glistening, as he worked over muscles most guys weren't even aware existed. He was a real stud. Trevor was so lost in his workout that to this day he doesn't really remember most of what happened next. He was holding a bar with two massive weights on both ends when he decided it just wasn't enough of a challenge. He was going to swap out the weights for heavier ones and had positioned the bar between his legs for leverage whilst he removed the first weight. Suddenly, the other end slipped free - still loaded with weight - and careened toward the floor. It had barely impacted the ground as the end he had been holding rocketed upward like a seesaw. Apparently, the bar itself was quite hefty as it slammed upward knocking into his spuds and crushing them against his pelvis.

 Trevor let out a squeal as he felt the bar - driven by the heavy counterweight - slam into his prize-winning testicles with so much force that they exploded as if he had been stomped. He felt - and heard - his twins' swan song as they erupted in his sack. 

"Ooouh!" he screamed in a deep bellow as he fell to the floor clutching his nuts. To his horror he felt a warm, gooey substance as hands plunged into his shorts. 

My.. balls... he thought as he blacked out.

Afternoon: Jake - The Treadmill

Jake came into the club several hours later, after Trevor had been rushed to the hospital and the mess was cleaned up. He laughed at the stories guys were telling in the locker room about the incident since clearly their graphic depictions were far worse than reality. They're just exaggerating, Jake thought as he sundered toward a treadmill. Jake was young, beefy stud who decided he was going to work out his massive legs with a brutal uphill run on the treadmill.

The cocky jock set the incline to maximum and the speed to just above what he could stand and started running. After a few miles he was dripping with sweat, but the extreme incline and speed was starting to catch to even his strong legs and he was starting to fall backward. No problem, he though, as he tied his wrist band around the treadmill's controls - tethering him in place - and forcing him to run fast enough to keep up. He smiled as he turned up the speed until his legs were blur. He was running faster and faster... until he wasn't.

"Fuck!"

Jake lost his footing and fell on his ass onto the rapidly moving treadmill. Ordinarily he would have just tumbled off, been laughed at by the other guys, and continued on with his day. But since his wrist was still tied to the control panel he was forced into a sitting position, squashing his fat nuts in the process.

"Shit! Help!"

Jake cried out and his eyes crossed as he felt his huge nuts crushed under his gym-hewn ass.  Jake tried desperately to turn off the machine with his trapped hand but only succeeded in turning up the speed to maximum. There was a loud whirring sound as the treadmill motor spun at maximum speed. Suddenly Jake realized the fabric of his shorts - and his nuts - were stuck in the treads. The beefy stud's full weight was pressing down on his boys from the top as the treadmill raced underneath, pressing them in place. They were trapped and the conflicting forces were starting to wear down on them. 

"FUCK!" Jake screamed as he felt his shorts starting to rip. Suddenly his bare nuts tumbled out and a flap out of his scrotum and get stuck in the treadmill. His balls wanted to follow the treadmill, but his ass resting on top of them prevented them from moving. 

Jake wailed as his scrotum was pulped like a cheese grater until the pressure was just too much and his sack erupted open in a shocking, huge spray. Jake passed out, still stuck in place, as the treadmill ran underneath him. The more of his nut's guts were extruded from his sack, the lower his ass got to the treadmill. His ball were being shredded and flattened at the same time. Finally, a panicked fellow gym bro recovered from his shock enough to unplug the machine but by then it was too late. Jake's kids were splattered all of the treadmill.

Night: Clay and the Splits

Clay was a hulking stud who stopped by the gym at nights after work. It fit into his busy schedule and allowed him to avoid the crowds of the day. Clay hardly noticed the 'out of order' sign placed on one of the treadmills as he made his way to the locker room and put on his tight yellow underwear and tight white shirt. Clay was extremely proud of his ridiculously massive package and thick legs which were hugged by the fabric leaving little to the imagination. His shirt clung to his abs, perfectly outlining his chest and pecs. He stopped to admire himself in the mirror as he made his way to the empty free weight area.

Today Clay was going to work on his dead lifting, where he would raise a heavily weighted bar from a squatting position over his head in one motion. It was the ultimate show of strength as he heaved increasingly heavy loads over his head. He could tell that a few of the guys in the otherwise empty gym were stopping to admire him and the adoration drove Clay crazy. He couldn't help but start to get hard as he winked at the gathering crowd who were amazed as Clay dead-lifted more and more weight with less and less effort. It was incredible to watch his Adonis body as every muscle flexed effortlessly under the strain.

One of the watching guys couldn't help but whistle at the footlong erection growing in Clay's shorts as he lifted. The guy was cute, Clay thought, and he was imagining how hot it would be to bend the equally-hunky jock over a weight bench and plow his brains out. The head of Clay's cock was now sticking out of the waistband of his shorts and was leaking so much precum onto the floor that for a moment the watching men thought he was pissing. 

The handsome dark haired stud Clay had eyes on was hard as a rock as he watched Clay's cock leak like a faucet as Clay stopped to add even more weight to the bar. The handsome guy watching him winked as Clay rose the bar over his head... and slipped. His overactive cock had added to the layers of sweat and grit on the floor and Clay's left foot gave out from under him. He tried to balance himself but the weight he was holding over his head forced him to the ground. He didn't want to risk dropping the weight uncontrolled and hurting himself, but before he could think of a better plan Clay found himself falling to the splits. Clay was not that agile. He felt something tear in his groin as he landed in a perfect - though painful - splits. His husky weight combined with the weight he was holding with devastating effecting. He had landed on his free-swinging nuts and his bubble butt landed on them with so much force that they fractured slightly in the bag. It was like a violent kick to his unprotected junk.

As Clay sat in silence the watching men erupted into laughter. Like a mob, they descended on Clay. At first he thought they were going to help him up but to his horror, they grabbed his torso and the weight bar and lifted him slightly before slamming him onto the ground, crushing his nuts under his ass. They repeated the assault over and over until a thick, gooey paste formerly known as Clay's nuts plastered the ground. Clay, barely conscious, looked up at the handsome man he had been wanting to fuck - his dick raging hard.

"Guess that's why they call it 'no balls' gym!" he laughed as he and the others left a defeated Clay to crumple into a pile.

My Meeting with a Sadist

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