His husband John had left an add for The Curious Gifter out on the kitchen table in a not-so-suble hint in the weeks leading up to Valentine's Day. Most of the other stores on the block had closed long ago, unable to compete with the city's mall, but The Curious Gifter's uniqueness was enough to draw just enough business to stay afloat.
Like the rest of the store, virtually the entire surface of the counter top was covered in trinkets and display cases. Carlos, picked up a small glass tiger near the cash register and was holding it up to examine it in the dim light. He was struck by the intricate detailing...
"Hello!" came a loud, yet frail male voice out of nowhere.
Carlos, not realizing that someone had emerged from an obscured door behind the counter, dropped the figurine in surprise.
The tiger figurine exploded into thousands of shards when it hit the floor.
"That was limited edition Charn Crystal Company figurine, probably from the late 1700s," the voice continued as Carlos looked down at the ruined tiger.
Carlos looked up to see a relatively short, neatly dressed white-haired man in his late forties or early fifties standing behind the counter. Of course, to Carlos most men were 'short'. Thirty year old Carlos was six foot ten, with a filled-out, husky body. His muscular chest strained the fabric of his sweater and his thick, toned legs stretched out his khakis. He wasn't intending to show off his body, but most clothes simply ended up looking too small on the beefy Latino. For a split second, Carlos thought he caught the shop keeper eying the slight mound between his legs, but figured he was probably looking down at the shattered merchandise.
"I'm so sorry, I -- it slipped. I'll buy it." Carlos produced his wallet and placed a metal American Express card on the counter.
"This wouldn't cover it," the man said, oddly smiling as he pushed the sleek black card back toward Carlos with his finger.
"But its a Centurion card..."
The shop keeper seemed thoroughly unimpressed.
"Some would call a Charn collectible priceless," the man said picking up the credit card and handing it to Carlos.
"And since my register doesn't have a 'priceless' button, I can't ring you up,"
The man handed Carlos his credit card smiling slyly. Carlos couldn't tell if the man was quietly angry or bemused by Carlos' loss for words. Or both.
"What can I do for you, young man."
"I was looking for something for my husband, for Valentine's Day."
The shop keeper's eye brown rose slightly.
"Well we, um. We got marred last year and it's our first Valentine's together. I just wanted to get him something nice."
The shop keeper rubbed his chin and looked off as if in deep concentration, not saying a word for nearly a minute while Carlos looked on in confusion.
"So what does he like?
"He collects novelty spoons, he likes to read. And he likes homemade jam, but I don't think you sell that here. And he..."
The shop keeper rose his hand, motioning Carlos to stop his rambling wish list.
"He likes jam?"
"Yeah. Loves it, he's always going on about some crazy new variety he found at the farmers market. I guess that's a normal obsession for a guy with a spoon collection," Carlos laughed but the shop keeper seemed unimpressed with the lame joke.
"Well you're right, I don't sell any food here, but I could offer this."
The shop keeper came from behind the counter and motioned for Carlos to follow him. The Latin jock and the shop keeper made their way toward the front of the store to a shelf full of what appeared to be innocuous looking glass jars. Carlos almost reached to grab one but the shop keeper reached out, grasping his hand mid way to the shelf, and held it firm with surprising strength. Perhaps, like the priceless crystal tiger, these jars were worth more than they appeared.
The man held Carlos' large hand with crushing force for several seconds.
"Sorry," Carlos said as he finally released his grip, "I shouldn’t touch anything. What's so special about these anyway?"
The shop keeper gave a coy smile as he reached for a relatively small jar and handed it to Carlos. The jar looked even more tiny in Carlos' huge hand. At a cursory glance, it looked no more special than any of the hundreds of thousands of mass produced glass jars that filled the shelves of grocery stores. Carlos held it up hoping to see some kind of inscription or ornate carving, but found nothing special.
"So? Is this like one of those Charn Crystals or something?"
The shop keeper's coy smile broke into a hearty laugh as he patted Carlos on the back. Carlos was taken aback at how hard the man's ostensibly frail hand was able to hit his rock hard back.
"No, this is just a washed out Smucker's jar. You can have it engraved and then filled with a custom jam or jelly. What's your Valentine's name?"
"John," Carlos said, his face blushing.
John and Carlos had been together for years, but the mention of John's name still made Carlos' heart flutter. He was madly in love with him and didn't want to spoil their first married Valentine's day with some generic gift from the mall.
"Do you know what kind of jam would you like me to make for John?"
Carlos followed the shop keeper to the register.
"You make it here?" Carlos said glancing around, not seeing any space in the tiny shop where any sort of cooking could take place.
"Yes, in the back room," the man explained, nodding toward the door he had emerged from earlier.
"Tell you what, I'm getting ready to make a batch of my famous wild strawberry and mint jelly for some customers. I should have it ready Friday,"
"That sounds great. I'm sure he'll like it. Listen, are you sure I can't pay for this?"
Carlos pointed down at the shattered figurine that was still on the floor.
The shop keeper laughed and smiled warmly. "It's fine. If I really charged people for the things that have been broken over the years, I'd be rich. No, it's much better to make a good customer for life than fleecing them over a single broken trinket."
Carlos sighed at the prospect of not having to pay to replace a 'priceless' artifact.
"I'll come back Friday,"
Carlos arrived a few days later and found the shop was abuzz, a stark contrast from his last visit. A crowd, mostly middle aged women, had gathered at the counter. The shop keeper was handing out ornately decorated small gift bags and ringing in the crowd one at a time. It was obvious from the frequent use of heart and Cupid motifs that these were all Valentine's gifts that had been ordered in advance by the crowd. The prices Carlos was able to make out from the outward facing display of the old cash register were quite high.
"Isn't Oliver wonderful?" a beaming young woman gushed to her friend as they passed Carlos.
Being as sly as his large frame would allow, he leaned in to over hear the conversation.
"Look at this, Miranda. This gift bag is perfect. Steve will love it."
The young lady pulled out a dusty book, a candle, something that looked like a glass frog figurine and finally a jar with 'Steve' etched into the glass. Inside was a light pink colored jam with streaks of red decoratively swirled in. The two woman were still going on about the apparently genius selection of gifts Oliver the shop keeper had picked out as they left the store.
Finally it was Carlo’s turn a the register.
"Ah, you're back. Here you are,"
Oliver handed Carlos a red gift bag with two interlocking male symbols on the front in glittering white ink. Carlos was surprised to find the bag contained a vintage collectible spoon and a three-inch high glass figurine. At first, Carlos thought it was just an abstract geometric shape but quickly realized it was the letter 'J' and 'C' - for Carlos and John - interwoven into each other.
"This is amazing. Where did you get it? How much do I owe you?" Carlos stammered.
"It's on the house. And I didn't find it, I made it," Oliver winked.
Clearly Oliver was a jack of all trades.
"Thank you!" Carlos said beaming, making sure that his follow up question didn’t come across too demanding, especially considering he had just got something free.
"One question, I'm not seeing the jam in here."
Oliver, who had already started ringing in another customer, excused himself and turned to Carlos.
"Yes, that was my mistake. I shouldn't have offered that to you without checking my inventory. I didn’t have enough,"
Carlos looked dejected, but was still quite pleased at what he already had. He was about to just thank Oliver and leave when Oliver placed a hand on Carlos' bulging bicep and said with uncharacteristic sternness.
"Come back tonight, around 7. I have another batch cooling. I'll give you a double on the house."
Carlos nodded, smiled and left The Curious Gifter. A few hours later, Carlos returned to the store. It was little before seven, but the door was locked. Carlos looked at the glass and saw the shop's hours were written on it: FRIDAY: Noon to 6 PM.
Maybe he got the time wrong. It was pretty busy in there, Carlos concluded and had turned to leave when he heard the shop's door open behind him.
"Oh, come in, come in."
Carlos turned to see Oliver standing in the doorway. Oliver, barely more than five feet tall, was wearing formal khaki colored pants and a tight fitting white T-shirt, which was clinging to every inch of the man's surprisingly developed chest. The short sleeves hugged his biceps. His bright white hair was still neatly styled and his face was much more relaxed than during the earlier rush of customers. He motioned Carlos inside and had already clicked the door shut by the time Carlos made it a few steps inside. Carlos and Oliver made their way to the counter. Carlos stopped on the patron side of the counter as Oliver continued on behind the door.
"Oh come now, I don't bite." Oliver said waving his hand, beckoning the Latin stud to follow him.
Carlos wasn't sure why, but he was getting an uneasy feeling from Oliver. Although before he wasn't positive, this time Carlos was sure Oliver was eying the meaty bulge in his jeans. But, Carlos concluded, he was still much larger than Oliver so if anything were to happen he could easily handle it. Besides, how dangerous could a person who makes housewife-approved gift baskets possibly be?
Carlos walked behind the counter, following Oliver through the door. The back room was surprisingly large. It was just as narrow as the shop itself, but seemed to be longer. It was also quite sparse, which made it seem even larger than the cramped main shop. A row of florescent tubes cast the entire greyish white room with a glaring white light that took Carlos a few moments to adjust to.
There were only four long tables, each covered with various pieces of paraphernalia for Oliver's varied skills. One table was filled with broken figurines and other glass objects with a swing-arm magnifying glass, glue and tweezers as if Oliver was working on repairing them. Another was full of still-folded gift bags and lists of items to put in them. The third had objects such as paper weights and table top sculptures carved out of clay. The last table, was clear except for an empty jam jar, what appeared to be a Bunsen burner and a bowl of strawberries. Beyond that was yet another door, with a thick pad lock.
"So this is where the magic happens?" Carlos said smiling.
Oliver seemed not to notice him as he picked up the glass jar and handed it to Carlos.
"I thought you'd like to see the inscription."
Carlos held the jar up to examine the inscription. The typeface was quite ornate and it had hard for Carlos to make out at first.
"I don't understand. 'Carlos Flavored'. What's that supposed to mean?"
The feeling of unease Carlos had jumped exponentially as a he looked up at Oliver, whose face was now contorted in a maniacal, half crazed grin. Carlos instinctively started to back away. Oliver reached for something on the table where the jar had been and slowly approached.
"Um. Hey, listen. Thanks for the stuff, but I'll ---"
Carlo, despite his size advantage, instantly stopped talking and turned to run as Oliver suddenly sprinted toward him with the speed and agility of a high school athlete.
"Ooomp!" Carlos, stunted by the sudden turn of events, was knocked to the ground after being struck by a leaping Oliver. Carlos fell backward, his heavy body making a loud thump and his head bounced from impacting the floor.
Oliver leaped on top of him, his dense, small frame giving just enough resistance to keep the still dazed Latin pinned to the ground.
Carlos lay looking up at the ceiling for several moments as Oliver straddled his broad torso as if he were riding a horse. He was stunned, too stunned to move at first as Oliver reached in his pocket and produced a plastic cable tie. Carlos barely registered what was happened when the crazed looking white haired man reached down and secured on end of the tie to Carlos' right wrist.
"Hey! What the Hell!" Carlos reached out one of his muscular arms and handily knocked Oliver to the side.
He went to stand but was knocked to the ground by Oliver who tackled the larger man at the knee, sending the beefy Latin crashing to the ground. Carlos screamed and attempted to cover his face as Oliver, his face red with rage unleashed a volley of devastating punches into handsome face.
"Aaah!" he screamed as a particularly brutal fist to the nose sent an explosion of blood upward, splattering Oliver's shirt.
"Get off me!" Carlos cried out, reaching his fists in a vain effort to knock Oliver off.
Oliver was again knocked to the ground, only this time he didn't give Carlos the chance to even stand before knocking him onto his stomach and pouncing on him again like a crazed animal. The two men, the beefy, muscular Latino and the older powerfully dense Oliver, wrested for several minutes. Carlos was stunned at how effect Oliver was at putting him in check.
Despite the obvious size advantage, it was apparent Oliver was much better trained as a fighter than Carlos was. Carlos, despite his muscles, was just a naturally large person with no extra ordinary effort going into building, or maintaining his powerful frame. Oliver, on the other hand and unbeknownst to Carlos, had been spending hours a day in the gym for decades, shaping his body into a disciplined, agile and shockingly effective ass kicking machine. The few fights Carlos had been in, he won on sheer size, not ability, an advantage he no longer had.
As they wrestled, Carlos desperately trying to get to the door while landing a few good blows onto Oliver's rock hard body, Oliver was slowly ripping and tearing Carlo's clothes off. His shirt was the first to go, the button up polo ripped off Carlos like it was made of paper exposing Carlos' taught, muscular abs, bulging pecs and large bicep. Then, as Carlos was on his back yet again, Oliver stood up and delivered a powerful kick to the side of Carlos' head.
"Aaaah!" Carlos screamed, dazed by the kick.
Oliver knelt down and quickly unbuckled Carlos' belt while Carlos held the bloody side of his head. Oliver had just finished pulling Carlos' jeans to his knees when Carlos stood quickly, attempted to take a step and collapsed, tripping on his own pants.
"Idiot," Oliver snorted in disdain as he jumped on top of Carlos.
The two struggled, Carlos's sheer size starting to become more of an advantage as Oliver was finding it hard to contain him as he started to tire from the mammoth task of taming such a large man. During their struggling, Oliver had ripped off Carlos' pants completely, literally leaving a trail of denim all over the room.
"Oooooh!" Carlos screamed and crumpled to his knees.
Oliver had slammed his foot directly between Carlos's thick legs, crushing the underwear clad bollocks into Carlos' body. As he nursed his junk on the ground, Oliver reached behind him, grabbed the hand he had attached the cable tie to and in a move reminiscent of police officer, secured the tie to Carlos's other hand before Carlos could even turn around. The beefy stud's hands were now tied behind his back. He stood and attempted to free himself, but the disadvantage he was in quickly became obvious...
CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUINCH!
Oliver's foot slammed three times into Carlos' spread legs, sending the crying man to his knees. Unable to move his hands to cover his privates, Carlos was defenseless as Oliver took aim and sent his foot crashing between his legs.
"Oh God!!" Carlos screamed and fell to his side.
Oliver jumped on him, pinning the pain wracked Latin to the ground as he proceeded to tie his legs together at the anchor. Carlos was totally incapacitated, unable to even stand, as Oliver stood over him silently for several seconds.
"What - what do you want? Please." Carlos pleaded.
Oliver ignored him, stripping off his sweat soaked shirt to reveal a truly magnificent, chiseled male forum. Even Carlos couldn't help but admire him. Oliver's pecs looked rock hard and protruded prominently from his chest. His abs were literally as shapely and rigid as a wash board that narrowed into a perfect 'V' as it disappeared into his slacks. Oliver's arms were quite a bit smaller than Carlos' but were ridiculously hard and well defined. Even in an idle pose, Oliver's biceps looked like they were flexing. If not for this weathered face, Oliver would have looked like a man in his early twenties.
He ignored Carlos's pleas and used his foot to roll Carlos so that he was on his back. He smiled with wicked glee at the nearly naked stud, his eyes fixating on the enormous, hulking bulge in his skin tight briefs. Carlos' underwear left little to the imagination, the outline of each of his large balls clearly visible along with the snaking outline of his thick, flaccid cock.
Oliver admired the handsome stud for a moment before raising his shoe over the bulge in Carlos' shorts.
"No! No!" Carlos begged, trying to roll to his side.
Oliver mercilessly squashed Carlos' entire sexual package into his pelvis. Carlos gasped and screamed so loudly he went instantly hoarse, which only made Oliver laugh and stomp down twice more.
Carlos thought he was going to pass out as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He felt as if both of this nuts had just exploded. Oliver bend down, grabbed Carlos's underwear with his hands and tore them to shreds. Carlos's tan, heavy balls rolled onto the cold floor.
"Mmm. Very nice," Oliver smiled admiring the huge Latin bollocks.
He reached down and proceeded to roughly lift Carlos to his feel, dragging the half conscious hunk to the locked door in the back of the room. When he opened it, it revealed an even smaller room that may have at once been a walk in refrigerator. There was a single table with various pieces of machinery on it and a metal pole that ran from floor to ceiling behind it. Oliver, as if dragging an oversize stuffed doll, dragged Carlos so that his back was against the pole and tied him about the legs and chest with rope until Carlos was tightly held to the pole, slumped slightly at the knee so that his huge low hangers rested against the table top.
Carlos was starting to stir and looked down in horror at the vulnerable position his balls where in. They were shaved bald, making every fold and winkle on his golden tan sack stand out. They were slightly red and appeared to be swollen from the earlier beating but were otherwise fine.
"Let me go!" Carlos screamed while trying to struggle, but he could barely budge.
"We need to start gathering the ingredients for our jam,"
"Wha --- "
Before Carlos realized it, Oliver had picked up a small meat tenderizing mallet and was pounding his left nut as if determined to extinguish it. Carlos wailed in agony as he felt the hammer come down over and over and over into the softening ball meat. Then Oliver alternated to the right and pounded it in kind until Carlos could hardly stand it. The beefy hunk was totally defenseless, unable to move his nuts to safety no matter how hard he pulled against his constrains.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
The mallet was making hideous, squishy splats with each blow into the quickly swelling organs, but they continued to plump back after each blow, though Carlos was sure they wouldn't be able to for long.
"Pl-Please. Please stop!" Carlos begged after nearly ten minutes of non-stop ball bashing.
By now his usually olive colored nuts were purplish red and so swollen they strained against the skin of his over stuffed scrotum. Oliver set down the mallet and looked down at the tortured jock's nuts, smiling at his handy work. Carlos was screaming non stop, thrashing violently, the pain pulsing from his balls was so intense it felt as if they were still being struck.
Without saying a word, Oliver left the room and Carlos could here him riffling around the store. He returned a short while later holding the small empty glass jar and a small bottle. He set the jar down on the table in front of Carlos's bulging sack and proceeded to flip open the cap of the bottle. Carlos, his eyes still glossed over from crying, couldn't make out what it was at first as Oliver squirted a large amount of the apparently clear substance into his hand.
"Time for the first ingredient," he proceeded to reach out and grab Carlos's limp cock with his hand.
Carlos shivered at the feeling of Oliver's hand that was, Carlos quickly figured out, full of an extremely slick lube. Oliver's light blue eyes scanned Carlos's dutiful body as he stroked the trapped stud's growing cock with his hand. Despite the pain in his sack and the fear and disgust of being jacked off by a madman, Carlos couldn't help himself as his cock started to inflate.
"Oh God!" Carlos cried out, as Oliver's hand pumped up and down the increasingly hard cock, pounding into his bloated nuts on each down stroke.
It only took a few minutes before Oliver was forced to involved his other hand into stroking Carlos's still growing cock. Carlos, through shouts of protest, shivered and moaned uncontrollably as precum began to drip from the bulbous head of his ten inch, throbbing cock. Whatever lube Oliver was using was amazingly slick, allowing Oliver's weathered hands to glide effortlessly over the entire length of Carlos's cock. The muscular shop keeper was starting to sport a visible bulge in his own pants, clearly getting excited at the sight of Carlos's enormous, rock hard cock.
Carlos looked down at his red, swollen nuts and thick, milked cock, trying to will himself not to get any more excited, but it was no use. It was going on fifteen minutes of what was literally -- aside from the earlier ball bashing -- the best hand job he had ever had, and his red blooded Latin dick wasn't going to be able to held back much longer.
Oliver looked down and could see Carlos's eggs starting to contract, painfully, in their sack as Carlos's boiling load prepared to blow. Carlos's eyes were closed out of reflex and his breathing was slow and measured as he tried to hold back from giving Oliver the sick pleasure of making him cum. Beads of sweat were starting to form along Carlos's forehead as Oliver stroked faster and faster with one hand while the other concentrated on gently twisting and pulling the head.
"Why are you doing this," Carlos asked breathlessly though now uncontrollable moans.
Oliver said nothing. Instead, he stopped massaging Carlos's dick head so that he could pick up the mallet. While not slowing down his sensual stroking of Carlos's thick, veiny cock, Oliver positioned the mallet head directly over Carlos's defenseless, sagging left nut. Carlos could feel his load building and opened his eyes to see the mallet over his ball. The bound stud screamed and begged, but his cock remained rock hard.
"No! No please!" Carlos begged as his back arched and a thick rope of semen erupted from the head of his cock.
As was usual for Carlos, his cum shot sailed several feet, easily clearing the top of his head, before landing and splattering the table top. Just as the second glob of cum was shooting out Oliver crashed the mallet only Carlos's contracting left nut.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Carlo wailed in pleasure and pain as his nut was pounded repeatedly, the impacts causing his still throbbing cock to bounce, sending streams of jizz flying all over Oliver's rippled abs, the table and even Carlos's face. He looked down in horror as Oliver pounded the mallet over and over, each time making a sickening SPLAT. The shop keeper didn’t stop pounding until Carlos's explosive orgasm had finally subsided. Carlos, starting to black out but still very much aware of the pain was mortified to realize that the last few spurts of cum were slightly pink.
"Please! Please stop!" Carlos sobbed as his orgasm subsided.
His beefy cock quickly deflated as Oliver set down the mallet and silently left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a long razor blade and a small shoebox sized plastic crate. Carlos's heart instantly began beating at a panicked rate at the sight of the razor.
As Oliver approached, he set the box down on the table and positioned the razor in his right hand.
"Please! No! Don't!" Carlos sobbed, convinced he was about to have his battered nuts sliced off.
Oliver chuckled darkly as he used the blade not to slice the Latin nuts, but to carefully scrape at the puddles of cum on the table top, depositing the scooped up jizz into the jam jar. When he had gotten most of the larger puddles scooped up, Oliver slowly ran the blade over Carlos's bulging sack. Carlos held his breath, trying to stay perfectly still...
"OOOH!" he screamed as the razor barely nicked the skin of his right nut.
It was barely a scratch, he'd done worse shaving himself, but coupled with the earlier beating it literally felt like his testicle had been sliced wide open. Oliver smiled at the overreaction and set the razor aside.
"I think they're ready now,"
Ready for what? Carlos cold only imagine what he was in store for next...
While Carlos struggled in vain to free himself, Oliver pulled out a small blue bottle metal canister Carlos instantly recognized as propane. He then produced a long, metal tube and attached it to the end of the propane tank.
"Oh God! No please!" Carlos wailed in terror as he recognized the finished assembly as a small blow torch.
Oliver, whistling an incongruently whimsical tune, flipped a switch that made a bright blue flame appear at the end of the torch. He furled his eye brows in disapproval and fiddled with a knob until the flame became smaller, only an inch long, and more yellow. Satisfied, he began to slowly bring the flame closer and closer to Carlos's nuts.
"No! Noooo! AAAAAAA!" Carlos was in agony as he felt the intense heat from the torch starting to boil his nuts.
Oliver continued whistling, slowly closing the gap between the flame and Carlos's bulging nutsack. Although the flame as more than a foot away, Carlos felt as if his sack was on fire...
Oliver moved the flame in closer... and closer.... The skin on Carlo's sack was starting to sweat and his testicles were becoming visibly looser in the bag, in a desperate attempt to cool off. Oliver moved the flame ever closer, not stopping until the tip of the flame was only an inch from Carlos's beautiful nuts. Welts and blisters started to appear in random places all over his wrinkled scrotum and Carlos, barely conscious, only moaned softly as his head rocked back in forth.
Oliver smiled broadly as he held the flame right against the Latin's bloated balls, roasting them mercilessly. After a few moments, Carlos's once perfect scrotum was a mess of oozing blisters. There wasn't a single square centimeter that wasn't either fiery red from the heat or purplish black from the beating. Oliver was sure to move the flame slowly back and forth, evenly cooking each of Carlos's huge balls. Sweat poured from Carlos' sack and torso.
"Please..." Carlos, mustering the last bit of strength he had, looked directly into Oliver's blue eyes and pleaded meekly before his head slumped and he totally blacked out.
Oliver turned off the flame and set the mini torch aside. He grabbed one of Carlos's nuts in each hand and rolled them in his strong fingers. The skin of the right ball was actually starting to char and turn black. The left was covered with blister . He gave the organs a firm squeeze and his own cock jumped as he felt both of the once firm orbs were noticeably softer, becoming unnaturally flat in his hands.
After several minutes of his brutal inspection, Oliver let go of each of the nearly ruined nuts and let them rest on the table top. He then picked up the mallet from earlier and positioned it far above the left nut....
Oliver let the mallet smash full force into Carlos's nut and was about to swing a third time before stopping short. He set the mallet down and left the room. Carlos was still blacked out, so didn't see Oliver emerge a short while later with a clamp style wood vice. Oliver, being ironically tender with Carlos's nuts, positioned the vice so that the captured hunk's sex life was sandwiched between the vice and the table top. Oliver tightened the gears until he could feel the bottom of the vice touching the underside of the table, firmly trapping the enormous nuts against the table.
Oliver casually left the small room and matter of factly sorted merchandise in his shop whilst he waited for Carlos to stir. It took nearly an hour for the beefy jock to wake up and he immediately started screaming for help. That was Oliver's cue.
"Ah, you're up. Good. I didn't want you to miss the best part. The last ingredient."
Without ceremony, Oliver tightened the vice tighter and tighter. The plates viciously flattened the usually plump nuts until they were only a half inch thick.
"Aaah! Ooh! Please! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Carlos was screaming and begging unintelligibly as he felt his nuts getting flatter and flatter. The right nut was especially painful as its delicate membranes were being crushed under the unyielding vice.
"Please! Please stop!" Carlos barely got out right as his right nut collapsed, imploding violently as Oliver kept tightening the vice without stopping.
Carlos's eyes shot wide open and his mouth opened in a wide 'O', a tortured drone coming out as tears of shock and unimaginable pain streamed down his ruggedly handsome face.
A loud, wet SQ--U---ISH marked the end of Carlos's last nut.
Oliver's cock jumped at the sound of Carlos's last nut collapsing in the bag. Oliver just kept tightening the vice until the wooden plate was touching the table top, the firm Latin nuts that had once been between them were reduced to absolute mush. Carlos had passed out again, so only twitched involuntarily as Oliver reached into the box and produced a circular metal brand. As if he had done the awkward maneuver before, Oliver heated the brand with the blow torch while using his knees to scoot the table out of the way. It only took a moment for the brand to glow red hot and there was a wet sizzle as he pressed it into Carlos's crotch, charring the small bit of scrotum that was still attached and sealing the wound.
Without paying further attention to the destroyed stud, Oliver used the razor from earlier and carefully scrapped the chunky nut goop off the table and put it into the jar, which was nearly filled with the nut pate.
He held the jar up to admire his handy work before inserting a cork in the top. The creamy white semen from Carlo's last load formed a gooey bottom layer to the bloody, greyish goop toward the top of the jar. Hardly a traditional 'jam', but, as Oliver had said, it would be uniquely Carlos flavored.
Oliver went into the front room of his shop and casually picked up the phone.
"Yes, hello, John? I've got your order ready," he began to the person on the other end.
There was a long pause.
"Excellent. I'll be right over." came John's excited voice as he hung up the phone.