These stories are entirely works of fantasy fiction. Please do not act anything on this blog out. Doing so would be extremely dangerous.

Monday, January 15, 2018

Bully's Just Deserts

It was just after three in the afternoon on Saturday and Travis was standing in the locker room admiring himself in the mirror after a workout.  Travis was an Adonis, with more rippling muscles than most guys even realized they had, strong legs and a handsome face that was framed by his neatly cropped hair.

Today Travis had been especially aggressive on the weight bench and his back and shoulders were aching from the effort, but boy did it pay off. Travis flexed, actually getting hard at the stunningly ripped reflection staring back at him.  It looked as if someone had Photoshopped the perfect male body, only this was no special effect, it was all real.  He was only wearing a pair of grey knee-length basketball shorts that were clinging to him with sweat leaving little to the imagination.

He was so caught up in his self admiration that he didn’t notice the sound of three pairs of feet walking up behind him.


Travis screamed in agony and buckled to his knees as an unbearable pain struck the small of his back, right above his bubble butt.  Travis didn’t realize it, but he had just felt the sting of a Taser.

Before he could regain his senses two sets of arms were lifting him up from underneath, propping him against the lockers like he was a sack of potatoes, his perfect male form on full display.  Travis’ head aches as he slowly regained his bearings.

“Tyler? What the fuck!”  

Travis’ voice as venomous as he screamed at the man standing in front of him.  He instinctively lunged but was held in place by two other men who were mere shadows of Travis’ exquisite frame but were nonetheless keeping the hunky stud firmly in place.   Tyler actually looked a lot like Travis with a handsome face and short brown hair, only he was much heavier and far less muscular.

“You know what, Travis. You think you’re such hot shit,” Tyler laughed as Travis tried desperately to break away from this assailants.

“I’m gonna’ kill you!” Travis screamed. It wasn’t hyperbole.

“So you need your two faggotty helpers? Can’t even face me by yourself?”  

Travis was enraged. The veins on his thick neck were bulging and his face was flashing red with pure hatred.  He couldn’t wait to see what pathetic attack Tyler had planned so that he could endure it and turn around and beat Tyler’s ass.

Tyler grinned as he revealed a steel baseball bat he had been holding behind his back. Travis sneered and struggled but the two helpers Tyler had recruited were proving to be especially capable for the job.

“You know what, Travis. I’m tired of your shit. And ya’ know what? Everyone else is, too,”

Travis recognized the two men holding him from passing. They were just two equally out of shape guys, like Tyler. Nothing to worry about...

Tyler placed the business end of the bad on Travis’s nose and Travis, feeling both terrified and pissed, braced himself for the horrible nose-breaking blow he knew he was about to get.  Tyler wasn’t a muscle god like him but anyone could do a lot of damage with a metal baseball bat against a defenceless opponent.

“What are you gonna’ do, fat ass?  Couldn’t even face me alone?”

Travis’ heart was pounding in panic but his outward appearance was nothing but hatred and malicious arrogance as he struggled against his bonds.  He couldn't’ even believe Tyler and his goons would even be attempting this...

Tyler rubbed the bat over Travis’ perfect nose reveling in the terror Travis was trying so hard to keep behind his steely-grey eyes.

“I think you need to be knocked down a peg...”

Tyler moved the bad down Travis’ rippled midsection slowly stopping when it rested over the slight bulge in Travis’ shorts.

“... or two!”

Before Travis even heard the words Tyler swung the bat full force into his baby makers.

“Mother fucker!” Travis screamed.




Travis struggled valiantly against his captors, cursing and screaming for help as Tyler used his balls for target practice.  Travis’ average sized yet heavy, dense nuts were being slammed with crushing force between the bat and his rock-hard pelvis, each blow landing with gross wet impacts.  Tyler truly didn’t care whether or not the arrogant bully’s manhood survived as he treated them as nothing more than baseballs on a stick, striking the swelling bulge with reckless abandon.  

Tyler grunted in effort and his eyes flashed with pure hatred as he laid waste to Travis’ junk.  Suddenly Travis, in absolute horror, cried out desperately.

“Tyler! I’m sorry, I’m sorry please don’t... ooooh!”

Travis was in hysterics.  He could tell this was no ordinary locker room dust up; Tyler was out for blood. The same muscles Travis had just been admiring flexed and strained in an ironically hot display as he tried desperately to break free. For the first time in his life Travis was crying, begging for Tyler to stop.

“Tyler! Please! I’m sorry!”


Tyler had Travis’ whole world under his bat and it was about to literally shatter.  Travis’ sack was turning an uncomfortable shade of blackish purple and his balls were bouncing wildly, desperate to lessen the agony of the volley of blows.  At this point Travis wasn’t even making words, just desperate babbles as the other two men kept him held firmly in place.

Tyler reared the bat back, preparing for another blow when he noticed something quite unexpected.  Travis’ cock was starting to grow, and not just grow.  Throb.


Travis screamed shaking his head no, pleading with his eyes for Tyler to stop. For the first time in his life Tyler actually felt bad for Travis, but he quickly decided he enjoyed watching Travis scream too much to stop. Travis’ nuts were rocketed into his body and Travis nearly wretched as Tyler bounced his now hideously swollen nuts around with the bad.   Despite the pain and Travis’ hysterical gyrating to break free, his cock continued to swell. His thick jock cock got bigger and harder until it was its full nine-inch beer-can thick glory, creating an impressive tent in his loose shorts.  Tyler took a pause from his beating and placed the bat so that it was resting on top of Travis’ rock-hard cock.

The two goons holding Travis chuckled as Tyler looked with a truly malice look on his face.

“Looks like you’re getting off on this, Travis.”

Travis was sobbing, terrified at what Tyler could do with his cock so close to the head of the devastating bat.  Tyler thought for a moment before speaking.

“Tell you what? Since you’re liking this so much, I promise I’ll stop swinging when you blow your load.”

Travis screamed in protest as Tyler swung the bat and collided the head of his cock as if he were hammering a nail.  Travis’ eyes cross as the most intense pain he had even experienced racked his brain. Then it happened again. And again.

Travis was silent; he wanted to scream but his brain just couldn’t process what was happening.  Instead his handsome face was contorted into an anguished expression with his handsome eyes leaking tears, half-crossed, trying desperately to make eye contact with Tyler. Trying to make a raw connection as one human being to another. Travis had been an incredibly mean bully to Tyler over the years but nothing he’d done deserved this kind of retribution. It was inhuman.

“Ty... please... please.. Stop...”

Travis was losing consciousness as the bat squished and cracked his nuts and cock.  Despite everything though, Travis’ cock stayed hard and was actually leaking precum, stimulated by its constant bouncing and -- shockingly -- by the agony in his balls.


“Travis, you’re really liking this. But you’d better cum soon or else...”


Travis’ body went limp as the bat collided with the underside of his sack, sending his nearly cracked nuts flying into his abdomen.  They were literally still sailing upward when they were hit with another blow, and another, and another.  Travis’ ball sack was black inside his shorts but his cock stayed rock hard.

“Tyler... no...”  

Tyler spit in Travis’ face as he sent the bat crashing into the stud’s thick cock, nearly cracking it in half with the blow.  Surprisingly Travis responded with a moan and a shot of precum that made a wet stain in his shorts.  Tyler kept it up alternating between beating Travis’ balls and his cock, desperate to finish this sick game in a spectacular testicular rupture.

“Oh... stop... oh!”  

Travis opened his mouth and let out a deep, baritone, guttural scream as the front of his shorts were soaked with cum. Every muscle in Tyler's sculpted body shuddered in an orgasm so powerful the two guys holding him nearly lost their grip. Tyler kept smashing Travis’ nuts with bat as his busy balls unloaded a dozen squirts that soaked his shorts and ran down his leg in a thick, white stream.   Tyler, to his word, threw down the bat and signaled for his friends to let Travis go allowing the bulky jock to slide to the floor, clutching his junk and sobbing.

Tyler and his friends looked down at Travis as he clutched his battered but still whole nuts, sobbing and curled into a ball.

“Well I hope that taught you a lesson, you bullying piece of shit!”  Tyler said as he hawked a loogie onto Travis’ face.

Travis didn’t even protest, nodding in agreement with Tyler, desperate for the three bullies to leave him alone.  

“Do you think we can get another load out of him?”  one of the goons asked as he picked up the bat and handed it to Tyler.

“No!” Travis screamed as he tried to flee.

He was stopped immediately by a swift kick to the side of his handsome face.  He was out cold.

“Yeah, let’s see if we can make the next shots red,”

Tyler said grinning, holding the bat as his friends held Travis’ defenseless, perfect body against the lockers.

Monday, January 1, 2018

Good Doctor: Ball Drop - New Years Day


The group finished their count down just as the clock began to chime midnight.  It was 2018.

At the same moment Kamran and Quinn let go of the weights they were holding and stepped to the side so as to not block Zach and Dr. Paulson's view.  Almost immediately there was a loud clang as the weight that had been suspended from Archie's sack landed harmlessly to the floor.

The sound had barely registered with Lance before his eyes bugged out and he screamed "OH FUCK!"

He wasn't sure what had struck him first, the actual pain or the realization of what was about to happen, but both struck with equal ferociousness.  Lance's huge, swollen nuts were pulled violently downward by the heavy weight and the noose tightened around his sack, causing them to visually balloon as they were crammed into less and less space.

For the watching crowd everything that happened next was watched as if in slow motion.  Lance howled as the weight plunged toward the floor, pulling his sack along with.  His cock lurched and began firing ropes of jizz and his testicles neared his knees but the weigh wasn't slowing down.

"Ooh!"  Lance blacked out, his cock still squirting only the final shots were tinged red.

The entire fleshy balloon that had been pulled to the bottom of Lance's sack burst inside Lance's sack while he was still cumming and the weight hit the floor with a clang.  Both of his fat nuts, close to ruptured from the earlier pummeling, just couldn't withstand the pressure of being yanked and squeezed by the knot.   Dr. Paulson squeezed and inspected the visibly misshapen lumps in Lance's sack and confirmed, to the watching men's delight - including Archie's - that Lance's balls were history.  They hadn't quite burst in the gory shower Lance had always fantasized about, but they were not just chunks in his rapidly swelling sack.

Like clockwork Quinn, Kamran and Dr. Paulson helped the blacked out stud down from the platform and the watching eunuch jocks followed Dr. Paulson as he took Lane to begin the well-rehearsed procedure for dealing with the aftermath of one of his over-the-line ball busting sessions.

"Hey buddy, it's okay. Let's get you down," 

Zach whispered softly, kissing the back of Archie's neck as he undid his handcuffs.

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Good Doctor: Ball Drop - New Years Eve

The stately homes that lined Chrysanthemum Heights looked almost stoic, their ornate shudders resembling sad eyes on giant stone faces, as if they - like their occupants - were ready for this year to come to an end.  It was 10:30 PM and the final hours of 2017 were ticking away.  Parked in the driveway of 47 Blossoming Chrysanthemum Lane were several cars, including two ostentatious Porsche 911 convertibles.

Inside the posh home seven men were milling about the large living room sipping festive cocktails as pop music blared from the stereo and scenes of New Year's celebrations played on the television screen.

"Great party, doc!" Archie shouted, his red hair flopping as he danced to the music, literally as if no one was watching. 

Dancing in front of him was his identical twin Lance and both of the muscular, svelte twin's six foot tall bodies were gyrating to the rhythm.  They were both wearing tight fitting black jeans and black A-shirts that would have clung to their rippling stomachs even without the sheen of sweat they were working up.  Despite their frenetic pace, it was evident that both of the handsome brothers knew exactly what they were doing - each thrust, hip pivot and suggestive wink designed to enthrall the watching crowd and their efforts didn't go unnoticed. 

"Wow, you weren't kidding. Those guys are hot as fuck,"

Quinn said as he sipped his glass and nodded at Dr. Paulson, the host of the party.  Dr. Paulson and Quinn had fallen out of touch after a particularly wild session of ball busting the previous year had left Quinn two balls short of a full sack but it was the circumstance of a far flung job, not bitterness, that had kept Quinn away.  Quinn, was just as hot at the last time Dr. Paulson had clapped eyes on him, a powerfully built former rugby player in his mid twenties with sleek dark hair.  Horn rimmed glasses and a mustache made him look older than his age but he was still ruggedly handsome.  Quinn was wearing dark slacks, a white button up shirt, tie and vest and looked quite dapper especially in the sea of jeans and T-shirts and, most impressively, he was still sporting an impressive bulge in his crotch.

"I see you went with the extra-large replacements,"  

Dr. Paulson joked as he jabbed his finger into one of Quinn's large, plump artificial testicles.  Quinn grimaced out of instinct as he gave his former doctor a shit-faced grin. 

"You're still looking amazing too, by the way," Quinn said eyeing Dr. Paulson hungrily.

Despite being the oldest man in the bunch, the forty-nine year old was arguably the most fit a fact that was evident even through his baggy khakis and a rather frumpy red sweater that entirely hid his muscular body, though his bulging arms were still obvious under the fabric. 

Meanwhile two of the other guests, Zach Norris and Kamran, were standing next to each other licking their lips and swaying to the music as they watched the twins dance.   Zach was a thirty year old, beefy graduate student wearing jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt.  At five foot nine Kamran was slightly shorter than Zach but was significantly more muscular; a ridiculously attractive jock whose piercing blue eyes, sculpted body and shaved hair made it look as if he'd stepped out of a porn studio.  And stuffed into this tight jeans were two ample lumps, artificial testes like Quinn's, and a second, entirely real bulge of his massive cock snaking down his toned thigh. 

"Glad to see it's still working," Zach said smiling at Kamran.

Kamran gave his cock a squeeze through the fabric as he leaned in and gave Zach a friendly kiss on the neck.

"Yeah, I seem to get even harder now that the boys are gone."  Kamran answered, his husky voice dripping with lust.

"I get really fucking hard whenever I replay you cracking my nuts in my head.  You were so... ruthless! It was hot, man."

Zach blushed as he felt his own thick cock start to stir.

Music continued and Lance grabbed Quinn toward him using his tie like a leash and pulled the hunky young man into him.  The cheeky red head smiled before plunging his tongue into Quinn's mouth and the randy athlete didn't complain.  The crowd whooped in approval as Lance removed Quinn's shirt and vest - without breaking his kiss - to reveal Quinn's mounding pecs and six pack abs. 

Quinn placed his large hands on the small of Lance's back and began swaying in rhythm with him.  As the two's danced and rubbed into each other Archie snatched up Kamran and in short order had him stripped to his red-and-white striped boxer briefs. Archie and Kamran's sweaty, sculpted bodies made a visually stunning display of raw maleness and Kamran couldn't help but lower his stance until he was nearly squatting allowing Archie's bulging crotch to rub over his face.

"Holy fuck you're hot," Quinn said panting, running his strong hands through Lance's ginger hair and over his abs.

"So are you," Lance grabbed Quinn's fake balls through his slacks and gave them a squeeze.

"I'm glad everyone's having fun,"

Dr. Paulson motioned for Zach to stand next to him and they watched the two couples as their movements morphed from erotic, but still rhythmic, dancing to barely choreographed groping, heavy petting and making out.  Piece by piece articles of clothing began falling to the floor and loud moans, deep moans of pleasure could be heard over the thumping music. 

Archie was the first young man to get completely naked and Kamran, still in his underwear, seemed dumbstruck at the sight.  Archie's upper body was ripped, with virtually no body fat and his legs were fit and powerful.  But Kamran was most impressed by the foot long, veiny cock and huge, heavy  balls dangling between the hot red head's legs.  

"Oh Hell yeah, I can't wait to see these balls drop!"

Kamran dropped to his knees and took in as much of Archie's cock as he could into his mouth whilst stroking his own cock through the fabric of his boxers.  

The four men's moans grew louder and, had this been any other night, it may have just turned into a gang bang with the two horny in-tact twins plowing the two de-balled submissive jocks but this wasn't any ordinary night.  Zach's palms were sweating in excitement at the macabre game Dr. Paulson had planned to mark the turn of the new year...

"Holy shit!" 

Quinn, who had stolen a glimpse of Archie, immediately grabbed the waist band of Lance's underwear - the last clothing he was wearing - and ripped them to shreds. Lance was so turned on by having the beefy rugby stud literally ripping off his clothes than his matching foot long cock started leaking precum.

Quinn smiled as he cupped Lance's beefy sack in his hand and gasped.  They were easily the largest testicles he had ever seen and insanely dense.  Lance moaned as Quinn's fondling became harder, pressing his thumb into Lance's right nut.

"Dr. Paulson, are we sure we can't, ya' know, pound these instead?"

Lance's cock shot precum at Quinn's suggestion and Dr. Paulson gave him a coy smile.

"But what's New Year's Eve without a ball drop?"

Quinn continued to roughly fondle Lance's nuts and Archie moaned as Kamran struggled to swallow his entire girthy cock when the clock chimed 11:00.

"Okay everyone, we'd better get ready." 

Quinn gave Lance a wink as he tightened his fist over Lance's over stuffed sack.  Lance let out a gasp but his cock stayed rock hard as Quinn lead him down the hall toward the library.  Zach and Dr. Paulson followed and Archie had to push Kamran's eager mouth off of his cock to get his attention.

"Come on stud, don't you wanna' watch these balls drop?"

Kamran laughed.

"More like watch them pop instead,"

When everyone was in the bedroom, Dr. Paulson quickly explained the contraption he had setup in the vaulted-ceiling library.  Small step ladders leaned against two wooden platforms just barely large enough to stand on had been erected near each other and two wooden posts protruded from them.  On a table between them was a small table clock, too low to be seen by anyone on the platform, but the perfect height to be seen by anyone on the ground.  Dr. Paulson instructed Archie and Lance to take their places atop the pedestals and, once they were standing upright the two twin's heads barely missed touching the 12 foot ceiling. Next, Dr. Paulson and Zach secured the twins' arms behind their backs with handcuffs, trapping them against the posts, and secured their legs wide apart with shackles around the ankles that were bolted to the platform.  It was obvious from every measurement, from the height to the spacing of the restraints, that this contraption was designed specifically for Archie and Lance.   On

After Zach hopped off his step ladder he joined Dr. Paulson, Quinn and Kamran to admire the two prime male specimens before them. Archie and Lance's bodies were terrifically chiseled and their rock hard pecs and abs were covered in red hair that was slightly longer than the last time Zach had seen them.  The sweat glistening from their skin only made their perfect bodies look even more amazing but despite their gym-sculpted perfection the three watching men were far more fixated on the twin's other attributes.

"What a perfect dick!"  Quinn said, his mouth literally watering. 

Both of the jocks were fully hard, their twin cocks sticking straight out in a combined two feet of ass pounding perfection.  Dangling beneath were two obscenely large, round balls dangling in their shaved sacks. Kamran stepped up to Quinn and, without warning, slammed his fist into the young man's defenceless balls. 

"Hell yes! Ruin him now! Don't wait for midnight!"  Archie screamed as another and another and another of Kamran's powerful blows landed with deadly accuracy.

Lance screamed but his cock stayed rock hard and leaking precum.

"Fucking pound 'em! Make me a eunuch like you! Fuckin... OOH!"

Lance was silenced by a particularly brutal uppercut that drove his nut sack into his pelvis.  Zach shamelessly pulled out his cock and started stroking and Quinn looked on in amazement as Kamran laid waste to Lance's manhood.  Lance's enormous nuts were turning beet red and swelling as they bounced wildly under the unbridled reign of destruction.  It was obvious Kamran wasn't even trying to hold anything back and Lance, through his fog of pain, was incredibly turned on watching Kamran's muscular upper body as it flexed, knowing that all of that raw power was going into finally bursting his bubbles.

"Do mine!"  

Archie thrust his pelvis forward and Quinn wasted no time taking the invitation.  Zach and Dr. Paulson were both stroking their dicks as they watched Quinn and Kamran trying to turn the twins into ball-less wonders.  Over their screams of agony the brothers looked over at each other, as if they were watching themselves being busted in a mirror, and screamed for their attackers to finish them off.  All the the while their cocks stayed fully erect as if desperate to blow their final loads.

"That's enough,"  Dr. Paulson instructed and the two jocks stepped away.

The clock had just chimed 11:45 PM, midnight was quickly approaching.  The twin's big balls had been mercilessly beaten for over a half an hour and the damage was starting to show.  Both sets of nuts were purplish black, swollen, bruised and hanging even lower in their sacks.  Archie's left nut looked slightly misshapen and both of the hunky red heads were drenched in sweat, their handsome faces were streaked with tears and their voices were hoarse.

Although he was incredibly turned on, Zach couldn't help but feel oddly upset at the sight of Archie's misshapen gonad and the thought almost crossed his mind to call off the next part of Dr. Paulson's plan... though he had been waiting for it for months.

"Zach, will you give me a hand?"

Dr. Paulson made his way to a drawer and came back with two round metal objects, about the size and shape of kettle balls and a length of thin rope.  Perched on step stools, Zach and Dr. Paulson proceeded to roughly pull the twins swollen nuts downward and tie the rope tightly around them.  When they were done, each set of nuts was pulled several inches from their bodies, pulling their balls so far down their sack the skin was shiny.

"Looks like they're gonna' pop right out,"  Dr. Paulson laughed.

Archie and Lance were now in real pain and it was everything they could do not to cry out.  The two brothers glanced at each other and nodded as Dr. Paulson instructed Kamran and Quinn to stand in front of Archie and Lance, respectively, holding a kettle ball.  Quinn was startled at how heavy it was and his face took on an evil smile as he looked up at Lance.

Dr. Paulson tied the other end of the ropes to the kettle balls.

"Make sure you don't drop the ball, so to speak, until midnight."

"Holy... holy fuck! This is it, dude! Holy shit, this is it!"

Archie's face lit up as his pain wracked mind suddenly became aware of the ramifications of what was about to happen. 

"Hope I don't drop it early..."  Kamran teased and jerked his hand as if he was going to drop the ball he was holding.  It was too much for Archie.

Just the thought of Kamran dropping the kettle ball was enough to make every muscle in Archie's body flex as he thew his head back and howled. 

Kamran was totally unprepared for the force or volume of the cum that shot him nearly point blank in the face.  He very nearly did drop the kettle ball in surprise as four thick, gooey jets of sperm plastered his face.  

His face was absolutely drenched and ropes of cum were still dripping off his chin when he laughed, "Looks like Archie wants midnight to come,"

Everyone laughed.

As midnight approached Dr. Paulson explained that he had purposefully tied a very loose knot on one of the kettle balls, although both looked quite secure on a cursory glance.  When the weights were finally released at midnight, one of them would detach harmlessly and fall to the floor and the other..

"That way, we won't know which weight is going to just fall and which is going to, how can I say, make a couple of balls drop."

Lance's cock jump and Archie's which was still hard even after having painted Kamran, stood even more to attention.

As midnight approached the twins' breathing became faster, almost labored, and Zach and Mr. Paulson stood back to watch the show.  Kamran and Quinn were sweating in anticipation, both of them hoping that they were literally holding one of the twin's manhood in their hands.

"This is it!"  Zach shouted and pointed to the clock.

Everyone, including the twins who knew that one of them was about to have something extremely bad happen to their sex life, began counting down.










You'll have to wait until New Year's Day to see the result of the ball drop. ;)

Monday, December 25, 2017

POPS! - Anything for Master


Chase was wearing nothing more than a white apron as he made the finishing touches setting the table.  Master had been out of town for nearly a week and Chase knew he would want a nice meal when he got home.  

"Master is going to be so please," he thought.

The beefy manservant greeted Master at the door holding a glass of Brandy, which was promptly knocked out of his hand.  Chase knelt to pick up the shattered pieces but was grabbed by his short brown hair by Master and pulled to his feet.

Chase, his chiseled face in a stoic expression, went to speak but was silenced by a throat chop from Master's meaty arm.  Chase obediently nodded, holding back his instinct to cough.  Master looked agitated and angry, Chase thought.  Something must have gone poorly on his business trip.

"Strip and get to the basement! Get to the basement" Master barked.

Chase quickly undid his apron, revealing his strapping body, and made his way to the basement stairs.  He had never heard such malice in Master's voice and Master's hulking frame seemed to be seething with rage.

"In the chair!" Master ordered pointing to the chair in the center of the stony basement.

Chase sat on the punishment chair.  It was just a regular plastic chair with four legs, bolted to the floor, and a hole cut in the bottom.  Chase knew exactly what the hole was for and made sure his large pendulous nut sack was dangling beneath the seat.

Master didn't even take off his suit as he rustled around the basement frantically fetching supplies.  Master must be so upset, Chase thought.

"Master, I've made you your favorite for dinner,"  Chase said in a soft voice.

Master grunted and shoved a ball gag violently into Chase's mouth.  He then proceeded to tie Chase's arms behind his back, followed by chaining his spread legs to the legs of the chair.  Chase was totally vulnerable to whatever stress-relieving activity Master had planned.  Master rubbed his throbbing cock through his slacks as he drank in the sight of his slave, then went to fetch the final piece for his plan.

He returned holding the mace, a heavy metal ball attached to a chain with dozens of dulled spikes protruding from it.  Chase's eyes grew wide at the site of it.  Master had purchased the mace years ago but it had only hung from the wall collecting dust until now.

Without warning, Master swung the mace sending it crashing up from under the seat. Chase's nuts were nearly flattened outright and the beefy stud screamed into this gag.  Every muscle on Chase's body strained as the mace swung up again and again, each time flattening his huge nuts into the seat bottom.  The mace's spikes were dulled, but they were still pointed enough to be felt.  Chase could feel each one digging into his fleshy balls.

Chase was crying as Master prepared for another blow.  Master was thoroughly enjoying his stress relief, his eyes darting between Chase's bouncing balls, his handsome pain-contorted face and his heaving muscular chest.  Master continued raining blows, each more punishing than the last, and Chase's nut sack started to bleed and turn purple. Meanwhile, Chase's cock was rock hard, all seven inches pointed straight up; he was so pleased to be offering himself up to Master, though he had never seen him so...


Chase screamed into his gag, for the first time experiencing true fear as Master sent the mace crashing down onto his cock.  Chase's cock bent dangerously and was starting to resume its upright position when the mace was sent crashing down again.  There was an audible crack, like gristle being torn, and Chase thought he was going to black out from pain. His beautiful cock had a nasty bend in it that was starting to turn black.  Another blow crushed Chase's cock like an accordion.

Master smiled as he sent the mace upward into Chase's ball sack.  Chase's swinging nuts bounced and jiggled under the assault.   It was obvious from the lumpy appearance that Master was about to break his favorite toys, but he didn't care.  Chase knew that one day Master would take him over the edge and tears of joy streamed down his face despite his screams as his left testicle finally ruptured.

"Burst! Burst, mother fucker!" Master roared.

The mace was a blur, crashing upward so hard and fast that Chase couldn't even comprehend it.  Master had never, ever been this upset. Chase cried for his Master, angry at whatever had gotten Master in such state and happy that he was there to help.  

His right nut burst in his sack.  

Chase's eyes rolled into his head as the mace was now just mercilessly pulping goo.  If Master didn't stop soon...


Master creamed into his slacks as Chase's bloated, swollen scrotum exploded like a fleshy balloon.  Chase smiled at his Master as he faded into blackness.


Sunday, December 10, 2017

Bet You Can't Make Me Cum?

Two young couples found themselves sitting on their patio, sipping wine after a light dinner and chatting about nothing in particular.  They were somehow right in the middle of one of those conversations that started off totally innocuous but then, inexplicably, had taken a turn for the taboo. The conversation had drifted so slowly off the rails that none of them could quite remember exactly how a discussion about politics had someone evolved into Jared and Connor's surprisingly kinky sex life.

"So, you're telling me you don't find it hot?"  Jared said goading his boyfriend to give the expected response.

"No, I actually don't,"  Connor retorted chuckling uncomfortably as he sipped his pinot noir. 

Jared and Connor were both in their early thirties and had been married for just over a year, though they'd been dating since high school.  They were at a cursory glance totally vanilla, unassuming gentleman wearing khakis and sweater vests with their shirt collars poking through who usually discussed current events and social issues with a whiff of liberal elitism.  Which is why Connor was especially embarrassed by the blue turn this conversation was taking.

"Come on, Connor.  You know you blow your load like a volcano whenever I do it to you,"

Connor's face flushed red with embarrassment as Jared and the other couple - Zelda and Greg - laughed.  Like Connor and Jared, Zelda and Greg were a newly married couple in their thirties, literally card-carrying conservatives who prided themselves on how assimilated they were in their middle class neighborhood.  At first blush hardly the type of people who would be joking and laughing with two gay men about their sex lives.

"Jared, I really don't think..."

"Come on, Connor, lighten up!"  Greg said patting his friend on the back.

Connor had known Greg the longest out of the group but even that familiarity wasn't enough to lessen his embarrassment.

"We all have secrets," 

Greg gave Connor a playful wink as he pecked his wife on the cheek.  Zelda smiled broadly as she turned to Jared.

"So what, exactly, is it that you do to Connor again? I was too busy laughing the first time to actually hear the details,"

Zelda gave a clearly annoyed Connor a genuinely playful smile, but his facial expression didn't change as he downed the rest of his wine and stood up abruptly.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm heading in for a refill."

"But Connor there's wine right here,"  Greg said motioning for the nearly full bottle sitting on the table.

"I want something white," he snapped.

"But not vanilla!" his husband shouted behind him as the patio door shut.

All three friends laughed hysterically, more at Connor's overly sensitive reaction than anything else. When they'd settled back down, Jared continued.

"Well, I first noticed it a couple years ago, whenever I would play with his balls he'd get hard as a rock,"  

Jared knocked on the metal table to emphasize the effect.

"Then one day, just for shits and giggles, I gave 'em a squeeze and he damn near drowned me on the spot.  Come to find out my loving, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth husband is quite kinky..."

"Really?"  Greg asked in legitimate astonishment.

Jared nodded yes.

"And let me tell you, ever since he's opened up about his love of having his balls, how should I say, manhandled, the sex is so..."

Jared looked up as if struggling to find the right words.

"... it's so fucking hot! Just hot! Amazing!  He's a little animal and let me tell you, the money shots are volcanic!  It's like I'm literally squeezing it out which, by the way, is a lot hotter than I ever thought it would be."

Zelda giggled as she took a sip of her wine but Greg looked genuinely puzzled.  He held his wine glass aloft like a pointer as he contemplated what Jared had just said.

"So let me get this straight, you bust his balls and he gets off?"

Jared gave Greg a coy smile "No, I wouldn't say 'bust his balls'. That sounds non-consensual and violent. I love Connor, I only do what he wants and what he wants is..."

Jared abruptly cut off his sentence and the three turned to the patio door.  Connor was holding his full wine glass in one hand and a partially empty bottle of white wine in the other.  Jared frowned.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"What were you guys talking about?" Connor asked as he sat back down, purposefully ignoring his husband out of irritation.

"Actually, Jared was just telling us how in love with you he was.  It was sweet. " Zelda replied, smiling at herself that she wasn't technically lying. 

Jared leaned in to give Connor a kiss on the cheek and Connor rolled his eyes but the feeling of his husband's soft lips on his skin quickly undid most - but not all - of his earlier annoyance.  The two couples sat sipping wine and enjoying the breeze for a few minutes before, quite abruptly, Greg blurted out a question.

"So do you actually get your rocks off having your balls squeezed?"

Connor looked so mortified with embarrassment that Zelda couldn't help but erupt into laughter, her hand catching most of the spray of wine that had escaped her mouth.  Jared, who had been lazily rubbing Connor's thigh tightened his grip slightly as if holding him in place, afraid that Connor was going to self righteously excuse himself and kill the evening.  Greg, for his part, seemed unfazed by the social Pandora's box he had just opened.

Connor sat in stunned silence for a few moments and Jared was about to launch into an apology when something unexpected happened.  Connor laughed.  The mood lightened instantly as the slightly tipsy Connor took another gulp of wine, spilling some on his sweater.

"Actually, yes. Yes I do."

Connor reached down and took the hand Jared had been using to stroke his thigh and placed it over his crotch.  Now Jared was the one blushing in embarrassment has he felt his husband's large nuts and fat cock through his slacks feeling his heart race.  If Zelda and Greg weren't there Jared would have gone down on Connor right then and there. 

"I love you, babe!"  

Jared gave Connor's bulge a playful squeeze before giving him a short but passionate open-mouth kiss.  Zelda was smiling and soaking in the scene - what a perfect evening, she nearly thought aloud.  Greg, however, was much more conflicted.  How on Earth could a guy actually enjoy having his nuts cracked?  Apparently his confusion was visible on his face...

"What's wrong, Greg? You look confused?"  Connor asked.

"It's just... I mean I don't... I guess I don't understand how that works,"

"How what works?" Jared asked.

"Well, I know for me getting hit in the balls hurts like Hell. I took a fastball to the junk at the company cricket match last year and the last thing on my mind was getting my rocks off," Greg explained.

"Well, there's a difference between slow, consensual play and being hit with a ball," Jared laughed.

Greg still looked confused, his own balls aching in sympathy pain just from the description.

"I mean how hard do you..."

"Pretty hard, actually.  Sometimes he kicks them," Connor laughed taking another swig of wine before refilling his cup.

"No! I would never kick 'em, babe.  I do knee them though,"  

Jared gave his clearly tipsy husband another peck on the cheek.  Despite the vanilla suburban setting Jared was starting to get excited about what was going to happen when he and Connor got home, but he quickly adjusted his collar and sat upright in his chair.  After all, this was a polite dinner. 

Zelda, who had just been watching the three men and sipping her wine, finally chimed in.

"I do have a question. Is it the hitting itself that gets you off or... I guess I am still a little unclear of the mechanics of it all."

Connor looked on with glassed over eyes as Jared detailed exactly what it was Connor enjoyed.  He liked to have his large balls squeezed with increasing intensity, and then tugged whilst being squeezed, yanked until he squealed.  He liked when he and Jared were kissing and Jared would raise his knee, starting off by just bouncing his nuts and going harder and harder until Connor was crying but unable to scream because Jared's tongue was in his mouth.  Connor would fall into Jared as Jared's blows grew harder and harder, feeling as close in their embrace as he'd ever felt with anyone.  After all, Jared was both the comforter and the tormentor.  Jared for his part had unlocked a hidden dominant side that got his cock raging long before they made it into the bedroom.  All of this was foreplay but occasionally Jared would squeeze Connor's nuts just right and Connor would spew just from the feeling.  Jared had gotten it down to a near science, being able to tell exactly when Connor was about to cum based on his breathing, his twitching cock and his eyes rolled to the back of his head and Jared knew exactly when to pull his husband from the brink.  Though he admitted he often kept going, eager to lap up Connor's explosive load.

Greg subconsciously crossed his legs as he listened but Zelda looked on with an almost academic curiosity.

"That's actually really interesting," Zelda began.

"Why were you so embarrassed, Connor?"

Connor shrugged. He had been rubbing Jared's thigh the entire time, looking on with affection.  Then it dawned on him, he actually couldn't answer Zelda's question.

"You know what, I don't know.  I guess because it's weird?" 

Zelda shrugged as she drank her wine, pouring herself another glass.

"And? Who is anyone to judge?  No one is being forced to do anything and it's clearly a good thing for your relationship. I think it's sweet and if a few eggs get scrambled along the way, so be it."

Everyone laughed.

"You know what, cheers to that! When we were in high school, you two walking down the street holding hands was considered weird, so you know what I say? Fuck normal!" 

Greg rose his glass and everyone toasted.  Greg kissed Zelda and Jared kissed Connor.

"Like I said, Connor, everyone has secrets." Greg winked playfully, if not a little suggestively at Connor as he spoke.

"And what exactly are your secrets, Greg?"  

Connor gave his old friend a shit face grin.

"I'm actually pretty vanilla, I guess. Definitely wouldn't get off having my berries juiced,"  

"Are you sure?" Zelda asked asked giving Greg a wink.

Greg shook his head 'no' so fervently that his long brown hair looked like a mop.  

"Are you mental?  Just the though..."

Suddenly Jared extended his leg under the table and placed his loafer-clad foot on Greg's crotch.  Everyone had been friends long enough for something like that, especially considering the context, to not raise any eyebrows but Greg's hands raced for his crotch as if he literally feared for his balls.

"What's wrong, Greg? Afraid you might actually like it?"

Greg looked as Jared with a mix of fear and annoyance as Jared started slowly pressing his foot into Greg's crotch.  Greg was nice looking but, being straight, wasn't at all Jared's type but Greg's big balls, the dual lumps of which were obvious under his foot, were admittedly hot.  Greg shifted in his chair and Jared sensing Greg's growing discomfort promptly removed his foot.  He considered Greg to be one of his closest friends, straight or otherwise, and wasn't willing to let a bit of harmless fun make things awkward.  However...

"Why don't you give it a try, Zelda?"  Jared said tipping his wine glass at her.

"Honey?" Greg looked mildly horrified as Zelda nodded in agreement, her pretty face curled into a smile.

Before Greg knew what was happening, Zelda had reached into Greg's lap and clasped his balls through his slacks.  Greg's balls were bigger than even Jared had imagined and Zelda's petite hand stretched to cover both of them.

"Honey, what are you... oh!"

Zelda gave Greg's sack a squeeze, pressing as hard as she could.


Greg screamed and grabbed the table prompting Zelda to instantly let go.

"I think I did it wrong," she laughed.

"Yeah, too hard to start, probably." Connor agreed.

"Agreed. You don't want to pop anything. I mean, maybe one day..."  Jared's eyes met his husband's as his sentence trailed off.  Connor's face lit up with a smile.

Pop?  Greg grimaced just at the mention of the word.

"You all are too freaky for me, I guess.  That would never, ever, ever get me off."  

Greg exaggeratedly nursed his balls with one hand as he drank wine with the other.

 "Freaky? That isn't polite," Zelda said taking on a sanctified tone though her face made it clear she was being sarcastic.

Greg sighed.

"Connor. Jared. I love you both, you know that. I didn't mean any offense."

Jared and Connor toasted each other and laughed.

"Did you hear that, Connor? A straight guy just admitted he was in love with us,"

"I didn't mean 'in love' I meant..."

Everyone, especially Zelda, laughed at Greg's exasperation.  Greg just ignored them by finding the bottom of his wine glass before filling it anew.

"So how would you recommend I begin?"  Zelda asked Jared with utmost seriousness.

"Well..." Jared began before being silenced by Greg who was shaking his head.

"Nope. It isn't going to happen. I am not going to get off having my nuts cracked. Not happening."

Jared, Connor and Zelda all leaned in.

"Oh yeah? You want to put money on that?"  Jared said with a coy smile. 

Greg was taken aback but before he could protest Zelda was digging in her purse and Connor was pulling out his wallet.

"I've got twenty quid on that!"   Connor said, dropping a twenty pound note on the table, Queen Elizabeth smiling back coyly. 

"And I've got fifty!" Zelda declared, proudly dropping fifty pounds on the table.

Greg started to protest,  "Hey now, just a minute I..." 

"Count me in, too!"  Jared said placing more bills on the table.

Greg laughed, too caught up in the fun moment he was having with his wife and his two best friends to be annoyed.

"Fine!"  Greg said faking a stern voice as he pulled out his wallet, "I'll put down one-hundred quid..." 

Greg emptied some loose change out of his pocket which landed with a clang on the growing pile.

"... and sixty pence!  So if I win, which I will, I get all your cash but if you all win..."

"Connor keeps the cash!"  Jared declared.

"After all, it was my beautiful, amazing husband that led us down this path."  

Jared and Connor looked at each other as Jared stroked Connor's shoulder.  Zelda's heart melted and she clasped her hands together as if watching a romantic comedy and even Greg smiled sincerely at the adorable couple.

"Fine!" Greg said standing, his feet shoulder width apart. 

He ran a hand through his neatly-styled hair before placing both clasped hands behind his back.  Zelda stood up in front of him and Jared and Connor looked on as if watching live heterosexual porn. 

"So, Zelda, the first thing you want to do is reach in there and cup them, don't squeeze yet,"

Zelda nodded and reached into Greg's pants, taking one of his jumbo-egg sized nuts in each hand.  Greg shuddered in pleasure as the cold metal of her wedding ring brushed against his sack.  Zelda held Greg's balls in her hands, rolling them slowly as she waited for further instruction.

"So, first thing you want to do is give them a very, very, gentle squeeze,"  Jared instructed. 

Zelda nodded and gave her husband's gonads a barely perceptible squeeze, alternating between the left and the right.  Greg stood, arms still behind his back, turned on by having his big balls in Zelda's hands but not really feeling especially horny.  After a few minutes Zelda turned to Jared frowning.

"This isn't doing anything,"

Jared nodded, "Well start increasing the pressure, and roll his balls in your hands like dice."

"Make sure you do it slowly!"  Connor chimed in.

Jared and Connor never considered their best friend in any sexual way but it was hard not to admire Greg's body as he was having his ample nuts worked in his slacks.  Zelda seemed quite focused on her task, increasing the squeezing pressure slowly, her eyes darting between Greg's crotch and his eyes.  After a few moments she started lightly pressing her thumbs toward her palm as if checking the ripeness of an avocado being sure to listen and watch her husband's reaction.  If he grimaced, she would let up, if he moaned she'd continue.  Eventually she was squeezing and rolling his nuts quite hard but it had been so gradual Greg was more focused on pleasure than pain. 

Greg meanwhile had his eyes closed and was breathing slowly, surprisingly turned on as Zelda - at Connor's instruction - began tugging downward.  Greg winced and his eyes shot open briefly and Zelda adjusted her tactic.  Listening to Connor and Jared's direction she alternated between gently pulling Greg's balls downward and quickly yanking them forward.  

"Don't stop squeezing,"  Greg said breathlessly.

Zelda, in concentrating on the latest tactic of yanking and tugging had let up on her squeezing duties.  It took her a few minutes to get the rhythm just right and avoid squeezing, yanking or tugging too hard, all while watching her husband for every subtle hint that he was enjoying what she was doing.  The biggest, and far from subtle, hint was Greg's long, thick cock which was pointing straight up, constrained by his slacks and being held in place by his waistband.  The outline of his mushroom head could be clearly made out as it rested against the underside of his shirt.

"Too bad he tucked in his shirt,"  Connor laughed only half joking.

Zelda chuckled and briefly lost her concentration, Greg winced as her left thumb dug into his nut.  She kept up her routine until a small wet patch started to form on Greg's shirt.  

"Oops, sorry!"  

Greg, who had been lost in pleasure, suddenly became aware that he was starting to leak precum in front of his best friends.  He gave Jared and Connor a sheepish glance before closing his eyes and getting right back into the vibe. Zelda kept it up for a bit before, at Connor's suggestion, she withdrew her hands from Greg's slack but before he had even realized what was happening she rose her knee, catching both of his beefy baby makers full force.  

"Oh!" Greg yelled but obediently kept his hands behind his back.

Zelda kneed him again and again then immediately returned to squeezing and tugging only this time slightly harder.  Greg moaned and his cock lurched under his shirt.

"Oh... oh fuck... yeah..."  

Greg was lost in ecstasy as if all the sexual energy in his body had gone to his nuts and it was all being expertly massaged by his beautiful wife.  Jared and Connor couldn't help but get turned on and it was all they could do not to rub their own throbbing dicks. 

"Now squeeze the left one really hard,"

Zelda obeyed and Greg gasped, then the left, then she alternated squeezing one and tugging the other or yanking one and tugging the other, increasingly hard only stopping if Greg winced though the reprieves were becoming shorter and shorter.

"Quick, knee him again," 

Zelda kneed Greg's nuts gently yet rapidly, bouncing them on her knee.  Greg's cock twitched as she increased the pressure until, right when her kicks were starting to hurt, she quickly resumed her yanking and squeezing regiment. 

"Oh.. yeah..."  

Greg placed her hands on Zelda's shoulders as his knees started to buckle under the assault.  The petite woman was putting everything she had into the task and inside Greg's slacks his usually pale white nuts were starting to turn a rosy red.  He gently pulled her closer and leaned in, taking in the scent of her hair as he felt his load starting to boil over.

"Oh... oh fuck!" 

"This is it! Crack his nuts!" Connor laughed.

Zelda smiled as she pulled out one hand, formed a fist and plowed it into the large bulge in Greg's pants.  She punched him full force and squeezed as Greg nearly collapsed on top of her moaning, a large wet sheen appearing on his shirt.  His wife continued to wreck his busy nuts as his load shot up, coating his pecs and stomach creating an increasingly large stain on his shirt.  Finally, his breath still ragged, Greg tapped his wife on the shoulder in an impromptu signal that he was ready to stop.

As Zelda withdrew her cum-covered hands, wiping them on Greg's slacks for good measure, the spent Greg turned toward Jared and Connor.  Jared gasped in genuine amazement at the sheer size of the gooey stain on the front of his friend's shirt, the fabric was absolutely saturated with cum.

"Wow, looks like we win the bet!"  Connor joked.

"Yeah, you could say that..." Greg, suddenly awash with embarrassment and self awareness said, crossing his arms over his shirt as if that would hide the massive stain.

"Let's get you cleaned up,"  Zelda said clutching Greg's nuts through his pants and giving them a squeeze.  Greg gasped in pleasure.

"Well it is getting late, we can see ourselves out." 

Connor and Jared stood up to leave, giving Zelda the customary peck on the cheek.  When they turned to Greg his arms were still crossed over his chest.

"No hug?" Connor joked.

Greg shook his head no.

"Too bad!"

Jared opened his arms as if about to give Greg a big hug, which was usual for them when they parted ways.  Greg begrudgingly opened his arms and the two embraced, Greg's face cringing as if he was grossed out by the sticky pool that was being spread around his chest.  

"Take care,"  Jared shouted as he and his husband left the garden.

Greg... little does he know his whole world is about to change ;) 

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Like Father Like Son II: Thanksgiving

This is the long-promised continuation of the story 'Like Father Like Son' which can be found here.  It is rather long but what better way to unwind after Thanksgiving Dinner.  Enjoy it guys :)

Raymond Fielmer hummed to himself as he set his modest dining room table.  It was Thanksgiving Day and like most Americans Raymond was preparing to celebrate it over a meal with friends and family.  As he fussed over the exact placement of the salad forks he felt his stomach rumbling as delicious smells came out of the kitchen

"Try this,"

His roommate Danny walked out of the kitchen holding out a fork with what appeared to be a piece of meat sticking off the end.  Raymond's face lit up as the perfectly seasoned morsel melted in his mouth.

"This is amazing! That's tofu?"

Danny smiled and nodded, giving his roommate a playful wink.  He was wearing a chef's hat said 'Kiss The Chef' and Raymond wouldn't have hesitated to take him up on the implied offer if Danny wasn't unwavering straight, closest the two friends had ever gotten to anything remotely sexual was a slightly out of control game of roshambo that spring.   Danny was six foot tall, with a barrel chest and strong arms and his recent foray into what he called 'non-hippie vegetarianism' along with a renewed interest in going to the gym was starting to pay dividends.  His waist was several inches smaller than it had been in the spring allowing his broad upper body to tapper into a 'V'. His slight belly had disappeared revealing a nicely defined, flat stomach Raymond could visualize under Danny's conservative polo shirt.  Fitting the formal occasion Danny was wearing a pair of black slacks which must have been from his previous size as they now appeared unfashionably baggy, though there was a slight lump in his crotch visible even through the loose fabric.  I would love to get my mouth around that meat, Raymond thought.


Raymond suddenly snapped back into the conversation.  He had been busy mentally undressing his friend as he was asking Raymond a question about the tofu-loaf.

"So, do you think it needs more coriander?"

Raymond looked at Danny blankly.

"Dude, I don't even know what coriander actually tastes like. You're the chef, I trust your judgement."

"Thanks.  By the way, this looks great,"  Danny motioned toward the table before heading back to the kitchen.

Raymond sighed as he watched Danny's bubble butt walking back into the kitchen.  A few minutes later Danny returned, sans the chef's hat, holding another sample of tofu-loaf in one hand and a martini in the other.  He handed Raymond both of them with a broad grin.

"Thanks, Danny,"  Raymond gulped half the drink without even tasting it.  He was feeling more nervous than he thought.

"You're welcome, man.  Thanks again for letting me eat with you guys."

"Oh, don't mention it. You're like family,"

Danny took another step closer to Raymond making them nearly toe to toe.  He licked his lips suggestively and stared piercingly into Raymond's eyes before speaking.

"Family, huh? So would that make this incest?"

Raymond was confused by the statement, having barely processed it before Danny leaned in with his lips puckered stopping just short of making contact with Raymond's lips before bursting into laughter.  Raymond's heart was pounding and he gulped before his face flushed red with anger-twinged annoyance.  That was the kind of flaunting Danny frequently did, though the pace of his faux-advances seemed to have picked up after the roshambo game, or maybe it was just Raymond's perception...

Raymond wasn't sure what expression he was wearing on his face but whatever it was caused Danny to instantly stop laughing and take a step back, his face getting serious.

"No, but seriously, man. Thank you. This is all really kind, letting me have Thanksgiving with you with all the crap going on with your family right now."

The 'crap' Danny was referring to was Raymond's parents divorcing that summer.  It wasn't particularly surprising - Mr. and Mrs. Fielmer had been outwardly unhappy for sometime - and Raymond was stoically unfazed by the whole affair though he did gain a new sense of appreciation for his best friend who had proven to be a surprisingly good listener.

"So what time will they be here?"

Raymond checked his watch.

"Well, my parents should be here soon, assuming the ninety-nine highway isn't jammed, and Uncle Greg should he here around five."

"Have I met your uncle before?"


Danny scratched his head, "Seems odd that you have an uncle that lives in Stockton and I've never met him."

"Well, it isn't like we're married." Raymond said playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Point taken, smart ass. Anyway, he's your dad's brother, right?"

Raymond nodded.

"Yes, they're fraternal twins,"

"So they're identical?"

Danny shook his head and chuckled.

"No, it just means they were born at the same time,"

"Well, I'm an accountant, not a biologist!"

Danny and Raymond spent the next hour tidying up their modest rented home in preparation of Raymond's uncle and parents' arrivals.  After Raymond made a joke about Danny's ill-fitting pants, Danny gave his friend a punch on the arm and headed off to change.  Raymond was just pouring himself a glass of wine when he heard a knock on the door.


Raymond gave his father a hug and ushered him into the house.

"Where's mom and Amanda?" Raymond asked as he took his father's blazer to hang.

Mr. Fielmer gave his son a look that was a mix between annoyance and sadness.

"Your mother decided she couldn't handle being with me on a road trip and your sister decided to avoid all the drama and just stay home.  Plus, the pregnancy is kicking her ass so probably for the best she doesn't travel much.

Raymond frowned. He had been looking forward to seeing his sister Amanda, though he was coldly less interested in his mother and particularly annoyed she had sabotaged his first attempt to be the man of the family and host a proper Thanksgiving.

"Oh hey, Mr. Fielmer."  Danny came into the entryway and shook the older Fielmer's hand.

Danny had changed into a pair of navy blue slacks which were much better sized, allowing the healthy bulge in his crotch to be evident.  Raymond took a quick swallow of his mind and looked away when he felt his eyes lingering there a bit too long.

Their smiles and chatter implied there was no awkwardness between Danny and Mr. Fielmer despite the fact that the last time the two had met, Mr. Fielmer had nearly ruptured one of the young man's testicles.  Danny was always struck at how alike Raymond and his father were.  They were both five foot six with toned, fit bodies though Mr. Fielmer's torso was slightly more broad and they both had the same short haircut, though Raymond's was jet black and his father's was steely grey.  Mr. Fielmer could have easily passed as Raymond's older brother.  Coincidentally, the two were even dressed the same wearing khakis and canary yellow polo shirts that hugged their large biceps.  Danny couldn't help but be impressed at Mr. Fielmer youthfulness, so much so that he was partially what inspired Danny to turn over his new healthy leaf.

The three made their way into the living room and Raymond left to fetch his father a beer.

"So, what's on the menu? It smells great in here,"

Danny was just about to give them a slightly braggadocios detail of the meal plan when there was another knock on the door.  Danny opened the door and actually gasped at the sight, standing in the doorway was a sharply dressed man who looked virtually identical to Mr. Fielmer except for his dark brown hair.

"You must be Daniel, nice to meet you. I'm Greg Fielmer, Raymond's uncle," Greg introduced himself in a strikingly deep yet crisp voice.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Fielmer.  My friends call me Danny,"  Danny said shaking Greg's hand.

"Great, so since we're friends now, you can call, me Greg. My brother Lyle is 'Mister' Fielmer,"

"So I thought you and Mr. Fielmer weren't identical twins,"

Greg looked puzzled as if confused by Danny's comment, "We're not. But we get that a lot. I guess I don't see the resemblance.  I'm much hotter."

Danny was sure he saw Greg give him a wink before walking past him into the living room.  Mr. Fielmer and Raymond took turns giving Greg hugs and catching up.

"Where's Uncle Justin?"  Raymond asked handing Greg a beer.

"Oh, he sends his love, but he's terribly sick.  His migraines are acting up again, but he insisted I get out of house, especially if it's to see my favorite nephew!"

Greg proceeded to give Raymond a  head noogie.

"Uncle Justin?"  Danny asked confused.

"Yes, my husband."  Greg answered.

"Oh I didn't know you were... married,"

Danny caught himself mid-sentence, replacing 'gay' with 'married' at the last moment.

"It's too bad he couldn't make it, he loves you Merced College boys,"  he continued giving Danny elevator eyes.

"...I bet you could have gotten him to come."  Greg winked at Danny, making the double meaning of 'come' obvious.

Danny blushed and, as if on queue, a piercing tone came from the kitchen.

"If you'll excuse me,"  Danny said excusing himself to the kitchen.

After Danny had left the room Greg, who had been friendly yet stoic since he arrived, broke into a broad grin.

"Please tell me you're hitting that! Every night.  He's gorgeous!"

"Uncle Greg!" Raymond flushed with embarrassment and his father's chuckling only added to the redness covering his face.

"What? He is very good looking, and that ass. And that bulge! Yum!"

Greg's voice was deep with an impeccable timbre, sounding like a polished newscaster, which made his ruminations sound oddly professional as if he was a judge giving commentary on a beautiful piece of art.  He ran a hand through his thick brown hair and licked his lips like a horny schoolboy and Raymond was sure his uncle was having the same kinds of nasty thoughts about his best friend that he usually had.

"He's straight, Uncle Greg.  Mind out of the gutter,"

Raymond handed his father and uncle glasses of wine.

"What's this? Smells fantastic. Are there hints of cherry and rosewood in this?"  Greg commented as he swirled the glass under his nose and inhaled.

"Will you cut that out?  You buy a house near, not even in, wine country and suddenly you're a wine expert,"  Mr. Fielmer joked.

"No, that's Justin.  I just like drinking the stuff,"  Greg swallowed down the wine and Raymond promptly replaced it.

"I actually don't know what it is, Daniel--- Danny picked it out.  He said it paired with the amuse bouche."

"An amuse bouche?"  Greg asked in genuine surprise.

"So he's hot and he cooks.  You need to marry this boy, I don't care if you have to slip a roofie in his drink and..."

"Uncle Greg!"

Greg gave his nephew a mischievous grin as Danny came out of the kitchen with a dish.

"Dinner is served," he announced.


"That was absolutely amazing, Danny. Well done!"

Greg rose his glass.

"A toast, to the best chef in Merced."

"Here, here!"

Danny sat back trying not to smile too broadly as the others toasted his accomplishment.

"Seriously, Danny, this was great.  I wouldn't have believed it was all vegetarian.  And that Parmesan and truffle panna cotta... wow."  Greg said taking a sip of his excellently-paired wine.

"So, Danny.  You're in the wrong field, you should be a chef,"

"Well, accounting seemed more practical.  Plus, college is where I met this guy,"  he turned to Raymond and smiled, his eyes slightly glossed over.

"So are you two..."

"Uncle Greg!"

Greg and Mr. Fielmer burst into laughter and Danny gave Raymond a peck on the cheek.  Raymond felt himself turning red as he took a swig of wine but was a little too tipsy to conjure full-fledged indignation.

"No, we haven't.  I mean unless you count that time at the pool,"  Danny said giving Raymond a wink.

Mr. Fielmer's poured himself another glass of dessert wine and his face flushed red. It was slight but enough for Greg to pick up on it.

"What do you mean? 'That time at the pool'?  And Lyle, what do you know about this?"

Mr. Fielmer only used his wine glass to point to his son.

"It's his story to tell,"

"Yes, and we are not going to tell it." Raymond tried to put the kibosh on the conversation to no avail.

"Well now I have to know. It's even got my brother turning red," Greg started.

"Danny, won't you tell me what happened?"

Greg winked at Danny and moistened his lower lip before finishing his glass of wine.  In terms of personality, Danny found Greg to be an older slightly more vulgar version of Raymond, and since Danny liked Raymond he had found himself becoming quite comfortable with Greg over the evening. He was even starting to discount the handsome older man's thinly veiled flirtation as nothing more than him 'being nice'.

"Well, it's kind of embarrassing... "

Danny began before having his sentence cut like a knife by a look from Raymond.

By now Greg's wine-soaked imagination was going wild coming up with all kinds of machinations, though he was never able up come up with anything that looped in his own brother Lyle whom he was sure was in on it somehow.  The post dinner conversation turned back to other topics for nearly an hour before Danny started clearing the table as the group migrated to the living room.

Danny whistled to himself as he disappeared into the kitchen carrying a stack of dishes. When Greg was sure Danny wasn't in earshot, he abruptly ended his idle chitchat and turned to his nephew.

"So, he's gone. Tell me know,"

Greg was grinning like a gossiping school girl about to hit pay dirt.  The topic change was so jarring that at first Raymond was legitimately confused but then remembered the earlier conversation. Raymond furled his brow as he took a drink of his cocktail; he wasn't even going to dignify the question with a response.

Greg scoffed.

"Oh come on! You can't drop a hint like that and leave me hanging. Lyle?"

Lyle shook his head and was about to say something snarky when Danny returned holding a beer. His hands were slightly red as if he'd been using hot water and his shirt was untucked. He was ready to finally relax.

"So did you two tag team Danny?" Greg blurted looking at his brother and nephew.

Although Greg was being sarcastic his tone made it seem deadly serious.

"The fuck!" Danny gasped.

"Well Lyle I seem to remember you saying you had, what did you call them, feelings for that guy at work. What was his name..."

For the first time that evening Lyle looked genuinely annoyed with his brother.

"Uncle Greg, cut it out,"

"What? I've just been trying to figure out this pool incident mystery all night."

Danny sat down next to Raymond on the couch across from Lyle and Greg, sitting with his legs spread comfortably wide and incidentally barely touching Raymond's leg. It was a perfectly innocent pose even though it did give Greg's mind fresh fodder as he eyed the lump in Danny's crotch.

Danny, who was bemused by Raymond's discomfort, eyed his friend with a sly grin before leaning in toward Greg.

"Well, actually. It all started when Mr. Fielmer showed up and..."

"Dude, shut up."  Raymond spat.

Mr. Fielmer's face turned red but he sat back resigned to the fact that Danny was going to finish the story regardless.

"...well, I think it would be better if Mr. F takes it from here. After all, he's the one who almost had police charges pressed against him." 

Danny cut Raymond and his father a peculiar expression neither of them could quite read.

Greg's eyes grew wide as he practically salivated for more information.

"Police? Lyle, you know I love a man in uniform,"

Greg gave his brother a playful punch in the arm.

"No one was going to file charges," Raymond said flatly "they're fine."

"Whose fine?"  asked Greg.

"Not 'who'. What."

Danny placed a hand on his crotch and gave his balls a light squeeze while giving Greg a suggestive wink as he chuckled.  Greg looked puzzled for a moment but then his eyes lit up in realization.

"Oh! I get it, you unleashed the ol' nutcracker on him, didn't you?"

Greg gave his brother a slightly harder, but still playful, punch on the arm.

Greg and Danny erupted into laughter while Lyle and his son sat silently.

"He started it," Raymond blurted, taking a quick swig of his cocktail as if trying to shut himself up.

"You poked the bear? Lucky you walked away in one piece,"  Greg said to Danny as he continued to laugh.

Danny, Mr. Fielmer and Raymond interjecting over each other at random points proceeded to tell Greg the story of what had happened the previous spring on the pool deck.  They told him how the two friends had started a drunken game of roshambo that was interrupted by Mr. Fielmer who - after having one too many himself -- decided to join in.  They told about how Mr. Fielmer had flown into a fit of rage at Danny and taken things a little too far and how, quite by accident, Raymond had ended up nearly creaming on his buddy's back right before Danny blew his own load multiple times. And they told him how one of Danny's nuts had ended up swollen to twice its size and had nearly burst in its sack; Raymond found himself getting turned on during that particular part of the story.  At the end of the story the three men felt less embarrassed than they thought they would.  When said out loud the whole scenario seemed like some fantastical story from an erotica blog, not something that actually happened.  Greg, still holding a glass of wine in his hand, sat back to absorb the story.  He couldn't help but be aroused hearing about Danny spontaneously cumming all over himself...

Greg asked "You guys kinda' skipped over the part where it went from drunken ball busting to all-out rage mode.  What set you off, Lyle?"

Lyle was about to speak when Danny placed his hand on Raymond's back and sighed.

"Let's not talk about it..."  his voice trailed off as he gave Raymond a thoughtful look.

Danny didn't break eye contact with Raymond as he continued.

"Let's just say I got what I deserved."

Greg could tell there was still some piece he was missing, but could read enough of the body language to know that he'd rather not pry.

"So you didn't know they used to call Lyle 'The Nutcracker'?"  Greg said as his eyes darted between his brother and Danny's crotch.

Danny shook his head no as Raymond and Mr. Fielmer turned red with embarrassment which seemed to make Greg's smile more mischievous.

"Yeah, your dad was the roshamo champion when we were in college.  Lyle, what was the name of the guy you nutted? Fred-something?"

Danny spit out his beer and Raymond gasped as Mr. Fielmer shrunk in his chair.

"This really isn't appropriate, Greg..."

"Is he serious, Mr. F? You actually popped a guy's..."

"Yes!"  Greg said giving Danny a wink, "Hope Fred didn't want kids!"

Raymond looked at his father as Danny wiped beer off his pants.

"Greg..." Mr. Fielmer began to protest.

"What? Needless to say no one challenged him to a game after that.  I mean that frat boy did... pop!"

Greg erupted into laughter patting his brother on the back.  Mr. Fielmer for his part looked mortified.

The quartet sat silently for a few minutes drinking, unsure how to gracefully move the conversation forward.  Luckily for Greg, grace wasn't something he was particularly good at.

"Come to think of it, the guy looked a lot like you, Danny.  Fit, cocky-looking, huge balls,"

Danny blushed and closed his legs slightly.

Raymond tried to change the subject but was interrupted, to his surprise, by Danny.

"Well if I'd known you were The Nutcracker, I probably wouldn't have challenged you. Seems unfair, doesn't it, Greg?"

Greg nodded.

"Yes, does seem a little unfair, Lyle.  Trying to turn poor Danny's jewels into diamond dust without even warning him you'd done it before."

Raymond looked at his father hoping he would correct what had to be an exageration by his uncle, but Mr. Fielmer said nothing.

Another few moments passed in silence.

"That was a long time ago," Mr. Fielmer said.

"So you aren't denying it!"  Danny gasped, subconsciously grabbing his sack.

Mr. Fielmer shook his head no as Greg stood up and motioned for Danny to do the same. To Raymond's surprise Danny obeyed, standing with his legs slightly spread and arms to his side.  Greg walked around the young man slowly, mentally undressing him, stopping as he came back around.

Placing his hands on Danny's shoulders he quickly rose his knee toward Danny's exposed crotch, his kneecap barely touching the large mound before stopping.  Danny yelped in surprise and Raymond nearly choked on his drink as Mr. Fielmer's face took on a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, that was about what happened.  I guess I had pulled him toward me while I kicked and... like water balloons."

Raymond looked at his dad in muted horror even though he was getting increasingly turned on with Danny's manhood becoming the center of conversation.

Greg lowered his leg and smiled at Danny.

"Well it would have been a shame if you'd damaged these,"

Without warning Greg reached out and grabbed Danny's crotch, cupping his large testicles through his slacks.  Raymond exclaimed and Mr. Fielmer said something about it being inappropriate but Danny was surprisingly calm.  He was slightly too tipsy to care and besides, he thought, it wasn't like Greg was going to rape him. They were just guys being guys.

"... Yeah, it would have been a real shame. These are huge." Greg laughed as he let go of Danny's package.


Danny, Greg and Mr. Fielmer turned toward Danny stunned.

"Are you crazy? That's my dad!"

Before Mr. Fielmer could protest Greg chimed in "Seems only fair, Lyle. It's been a while but clearly you're still in prime nut-cracking form."

Mr. Fielmer blushed as he eyed Danny up and down.  He took a final swig of beer before saying "Sure, why not."

Raymond couldn't believe what was happening. His dad had just challenged his best friend to a game of roshambo on Thanksgiving like it was perfectly normal.

"I think we've all had a little too much to drink..." Raymond tried to bring the situation back to normalcy but failed.

"Well since you two are only in the pee-wee leagues, how about I take on Lyle, Danny takes on you and the winners take on each other?"

Greg turned to his brother who was now broadly smiling.

"I'll be just like that time in the Gamma Tau house all over again. Remember how his eyes crossed?"

Greg proceeded to clutch his crotch and make exaggerated moaning noises as if replaying the last moments of poor Fred-something's manhood.  Mr. Fielmer laughed and stood up.

"You know what, Greg.  I still never got that rematch with you from, what? Twenty years ago?"

Before Raymond knew what was happening the coffee table was being moved out of the way, the couches and chairs were scattered and his living room was turned into a roshambo arena.  Danny came into the living room with a silver platter full of tequila shots and lime wedges.

"You can't be serious," Raymond sighed as he reluctantly took a shot.

All four of the men downed a shot and Greg and Mr. Fielmer stood across from each other with their legs spread.  The two handsome, well dressed men eyed each other before Danny called out "Okay, Mr. F, champion goes first."

Mr. Fielmer smiled as he reared his leg back and sent it flying toward Greg's crotch.  He never broke eye contact with his brother as his foot collided with the modest bulge in Greg's dress pants.  Raymond looked away and Danny clapped as, despite the loud impact, Greg only grimaced.  He rolled his head on his neck, cocked back his leg and sent sent it flying.

Greg's shin crashed upward between Mr. Fielmer's legs and the resulting feeling must have been like him landing with his legs spread on a pole.  The impact was solid and loud and Mr. Fielmer gasped but stayed perfectly upright.

"That had to hurt!" Danny exclaimed.

Mr. Fielmer recovered nearly instantly took a step back and unleashed a well-formed karate-style high kick.  Raymond had never known his father, who was always fit, to be so flexible.  The bottom of Mr. Fielmer's foot crushed into Greg's crotch and knocked him backward slightly.  Greg's neck strained as he tried not to react to the pain.

"Good one, Lyle."

Greg had barely finished his sentence before he again unleashed a devastating kick. The back and forth went on for several rounds, each man barely reacting to the brutal, heavy impacts as the two watching college students looked on with a mix of admiration and bemusement.  Danny called a break period and everyone took another round of shots.

"You ready to give up, bro?" Greg taunted.

"They don't call me the Nut Cracker for nothing,"

Raymond thought he detected a slight slurring of his father's words.

"Okay then, bring it on.  Oh, and Danny, just imagine it was you standing here,"

Greg gave Danny a suggestive wink as he spread his legs.  Danny felt his cock stir just at the prospect of being in the firing line of Mr. Fielmer's foot...

Mr. Filemer's foot sailed forward with so much force that there was an audible whoosh.  Raymond looked away and Danny grimaced in sympathy but the impact was dulled by Mr. Fielmer's poor aim, his foot collided mostly with his brother's thigh.

"Getting rusty, old man." Danny taunted taking another shot.

"Danny, slow down."  Raymond extolled on his friend as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

Danny gave Raymond a glassy eyed, warm smile.

"Why? I'm having fun! Aren't you?"

Danny winked at Raymond and his cock twitched as he turned back to the action just in time to see Greg slam his leg dead into Mr. Fielner's plums.  The handsome DILF grimaced and his knees looked like they were going to buckle but he willed himself upright.

The contest went on several more rounds until both men were finding it difficult to stand up straight and were openly crying out with each blow.  By now Greg was starting to work up a sweat and had removed his tie and unbuttoned half of his dress shirt letting his hairy chest poke through. Danny couldn't help but be impressed by the older man's mounding, chiseled pecs and when Greg caught Danny admiring them he smiled.

"So you like 'em hairy, huh' stud?"

"Uncle Greg!"

Danny laughed and seeing how uncomfortable it was making Raymond, decided to play along.

"Yeah, daddy." he answered in an exaggerated feminine voice.

"Okay, Lyle, spread 'em." Greg barked.

Greg turned to Raymond with a sad look on his face.

"Well, Raymond. I hope you didn't want any more siblings."

Raymond had barely registered the implied meaning before his uncles leg sailed up so hard between his father's legs that Mr. Fielmer was lifted off the ground.  Raymond watched as his dad's eyes crossed and he let out a low, long moan, his hands buried in his crotch.  It was the first time either contestant didn't immediately bounce back into the game.

Danny's face was twisted into smile as he watched the man who had almost nutted him struggle to regain his footing.

"Guess you're about to be the nut-cracked instead of the nut-cracker,"

The schadenfreude in Danny's voice was evident.

Mr. Fielmer did eventually regain his stance but it was obvious the last blow had knocked out some of his pep.  Inside his slacks Mr. Fielmer's nuts were swollen to almost twice their normal size and were beet red, his left nut which naturally hung lower anyway, had taken the brunt of the impacts and was starting to throb.  Mr. Fielmer held a hand to his stomach as his guts started to ache from the pain.

"Dad, maybe we should stop?"  Raymond said.

"Why? I'm having fun!"  Danny, by now clearly drunk, put his arm around Raymond's shoulder.  He was clearly enjoying watching these two fit, attractive men laying waste to each other's balls and he was shamelessly sporting an erection in his slacks.

Greg caught a glimpse of Danny's tented slacks and couldn't help but feel himself get flushed.  Danny's cock was huge and he wasn't even trying to hide it.

"You're getting off on this, aren't you?  You wanna' be where I'm standing?"

Greg spread his legs wide and put his arms behind his back in preparation for the kick.  Mr. Fielmer lined up his stance, swung his leg back and did a karate kick into Greg's crotch, his toe flattening Greg's plump right nut dead on.  Greg gasped and clutched his junk, the concentrated pain radiating up his back.

"You wish that was you, don't you?"  Greg coughed, winking at Danny whose cock twitched in his slacks.

As Greg readied for his next kick, he decided to see just how randy he could get Danny.

"Ya' know, Danny. That guy Lyle ruined in college. He wanted it.  He used to get so hard whenever we'd play.  He actually creamed on himself when his nuts cracked."

Danny was breathing heavily as he thought back to the explosive orgasm he had had at the pool right before Mr. Fielner was about to crush his nut.  His cock was throbbing in his slacks and he didn't care that all three sets of eyes were on him.

"That's so hot," Danny said swallowing.

He'd watched tons of ball busting videos online and had participated in a few games of roshambo and nut ball in his day, but he'd never participated in such a brutal contest, talking about rupturing other guys openly.  Danny was so turned on he almost thought he was going to have to excuse himself to the bathroom to rub out a load.

With a whoosh, Greg kicked out his leg like a cancan girl, the bottom on his foot crunching Mr. Fielmer's berries, nearly juicing them.  Mr. Fielmer actually thought he was going to throw up as his already battered left nut was compressed nearly flat.  Had he been naked he would have seen a dark purple streak appear on his ball sack from a ruptured blood vessel.  Mr. Fielmer let out a howl and actually fell to his knees moaning.  Danny took a large step forward holding a shot of tequila in his hand.

"You need this?" he said offering the drink to Mr. Fielmer.

Raymond's dad shook his head no as Danny took the shot himself.  As Mr. Fielmer tried to muster the strength to stand back up, he realized he was at eye level with Danny's cock, the huge fuck stick pointed right at his face through the slacks.  Mr. Fielmer felt his heart quicken and subconsciously moistened his lips.  Raymond looked at his father quizzically, unsure of what he had just seen.

"I saw that, Lyle!"  Greg pounced.

"Danny, I think my brother wants to take a bite,"

Danny looked down and immediately took a step back once he realized the compromising position he was in.  Raymond looked extremely uncomfortable and was willing himself not to get hard despite the fact that his hot roommate was sporting an erection right next to him.

"It's hot in here? Is it hot in here?"

Danny's words were slurred as he stripped off his polo and cast it aside.  It was a balmy evening and Danny was genuinely warm so he hadn't even realized that he was giving Raymond, Greg and most likely Mr. Fielmer quite a show.  His broad chest was covered in a layer of sweat that accented his newly-toned abs and the trail of short blonde hair that started at his navel disappeared invitingly into his slacks.  His erection had gone down slightly, but it was still quite evident.  Greg didn't even try looking away as the drunk college boy looked on at the roshambo tournament.

The game continued for a few more rounds until, after a particularly devastating blow, Mr. Fielmer collapsed into a fetal position clutching his crotch and fighting back tears.

"I'll take that shot now," he said and Danny eagerly handed him a drink, his cock just inches from Mr. Fielmer's face.

"Are you tapping out, Lyle."

Greg was quite proud of himself as his brother nodded yes.

"We have a winner!"

Danny took Greg's hand and lofted his arm up as if announcing the winner of a boxing match.   Then he turned to Raymond.

"Our turn."

Greg helped Mr. Fielmer take a seat on the couch and Mr. Fielmer shamelessly kept his hand over his crotch.  His left nut felt like it was on fire and intense pain rolled in his stomach.  Greg was doing a better job of hiding the pain but his own black-and-blue sack was hideously swollen in his slacks.

As Danny and Raymond prepared for their round, Greg eyed Danny like a cow to the slaughter.

"Aren't your legs warm, Danny? Maybe loose the slacks?"

Danny looked at Greg as if seriously contemplating but Raymond shot his uncle a look of incredulity.

"So, I'll go first?"  Raymond ask.

Danny nodded.

"Don't break his dick!" Greg laughed and Danny's face blushed.

Danny was so excited by the prospect of finally having his own nuts cracked that he was again sporting an erection in his slacks.  Raymond rolled his eyes, lined up his target and kicked. He could feel his toe collide with the bottom of his friend's overstuffed sack as his huge testicles bounced around in their bag like pin balls.  Danny's cock flopped in his pants as he doubled over and screamed but got to his feet after less than a minute and returned the favor to Raymond's ample nuts. The tip of Danny's foot caught Raymond's right nut dead on and Danny's cock twitched as he felt Raymond's nut warping in great detail.  Raymond let out a shriek and dropped like a stone, clutching his nuts.

Greg watched his nephew struggle to get to his feet and chuckled.

"Amateurs. On the ground after the first round.  I guess he didn't inherit your fortitude, Lyle."

Greg and Mr. Fielmer laughed as Greg headed to the kitchen and returned with another platter of shot glasses.

"This might help,"

Danny reached for one greedily and Raymond rolled his eyes even as he grabbed one for himself.

Raymond lined up his leg with Danny's crotch and performed an awkward but still effective front kick that crushed Danny's balls nearly flat against his body, knocking the hunky blonde to the ground.  Mr. Fielmer laughed at Danny's girlish shriek and Danny's hands raced to his crotch.  His cock was still hard, but starting to deflate slightly from the pain.  Meanwhile, Raymond found himself getting incredibly turned on as he watched his half naked and hard roommate rolling on the carpet.

The next few rounds continued like the first with each young man trying his best to crush the other's spuds and collapsing to the ground after every hit.  By now Raymond's left nut felt extremely sore and sharp, shooting pain was radiating from it constantly.  Danny's work outs had really improved his leg strength since the spring and Danny could tell he was doing real damage to his friend's nuts - which only turned him on more.

"I hope you didn't want grandkids, Mr. F," Danny said seriously as he prepared for his turn.

"Well, Amanda's pregnant so I'm good,"

Raymond looked on mortified as the three of them casually laughed about the end of his sex life.

Danny looked Raymond in the eye and said "Sorry buddy, hope you enjoyed them while you could!"

Raymond's eyes grew huge as Danny's leg swung up and crushed into his defenseless nut sack.  If Raymond had been naked they would have all seen his nuts rocketing around wildly, bouncing from the brutal impact and his right nut being crushed nearly flat.  The swollen organ had been compressed so violently that the pain was beyond Raymond's comprehension.  All Raymond could do was cross his eyes and slump to the ground; his mouth was opened into an 'O' but only a wheezy gasp came out.  Mr. Fielmer and Greg winced sincerely just from the hideous sound of it.

Raymond stood up slowly and delivered a barely-there kick to Danny who actually laughed at the weak attempt.

"Looks like you're running out of steam, Ray.  You wanna' quit yet?"

Raymond was about to shake his head yes when Danny slammed his foot into his crotch smashing his swollen nut sack almost flat.   Danny thought he was going to cream on himself; he was literally living out one of his ball busting fantasies.  He could feel in exquisite detail as his friend's balls flattened and deformed like meaty patties and for a split second he actually thought they were going to burst.  Had anyone bothered to do a safety check, they would have seen that Raymond's right nut was turning an unhealthy shade of purple and was swollen and sagging in his sack.

Raymond stayed on the ground nearly three minutes as Danny egged him on.

"Get up, son!"  Mr. Fielmer said as he took a shot of tequila.

Danny looked over to see that Mr. Fielmer was staring at his body and slowly rubbing his bulge and it didn't look like it was from the lingering pain.  Danny gave Mr. Fielmer a playful wink just as Raymond got back to his feet.

"Dad!"  Raymond exclaimed only to be greeted by a shit faced grin.

"What do you say, fellas? Three against one? We could take him!"

Greg wasn't even trying to veil his twisted fantasy of all three of the Fielmer men gang raping the hunky blonde jock.  Danny either didn't fully register, or didn't care, about the comment as he took his position.

Despite the nauseating pain, Raymond managed to land a truly horrific blow to Danny's nut sack that sent him falling to the couch screaming bloody murder.

"Nice one, son!"

Raymond looked toward his father as his uncle handed him yet another shot. He knew it was probably not a good idea, but he downed it anyway.

"Liquid courage!" he said smiling as he, uncharacteristically, tossed the plastic shot glass over his shoulder where it landed with a clang.

Raymond and Danny went a few more rounds, each time Raymond collapsing to his knees, overwhelmed by the pain coming from his right nut.  The agony was clearly cutting through any fogginess the liquor was affording him. He knew he had to stop but still managed to get to his feet.

Danny stood with his legs spread and arms behind his back.  He had adjusted his cock so that it was trapped by his waistband pointing up instead of out, which made his large balls even easier targets.  Raymond cocked back his leg and let out a powerful kick that might have actually caused permanent damage had it been on target.  Instead Danny was knocked to the ground as Raymond's leg smashed into his thigh, not even close to his sack.

"That doesn't count!"  Raymond protested but all three of the onlookers shook their head.

"Danny! Man, that doesn't count,"

Danny just shook his head with a smirk as he took a step closer to Raymond. Raymond gave his best friend a pleading look to no avail; the next thing he realized he was screaming and falling to his knees.  Danny had sent his large knee crashing into his junk, compressing them to literally half their girth in a fraction of a second.  Raymond was sure his right nut had actually burst and his hands raced into his slacks to feel it.  Even his delicate rolling was too much and Raymond made himself howl with his own examination. Meanwhile, Raymond's face was literally inches from Danny's hard cock and the musky smell was intoxicating. Through tears Raymond looked up at Danny awestruck at how hot Danny looked from this angle.

"What's the verdict? Am I gonna' have grand kids from you?" Mr. Fielmer joked.

Raymond waved his hand in the air and coughed out "I'm done. You win,"

Danny jumped up in excitement and Raymond fell over.

"You like your eggs scrambled, Ray?" he teased as he reached a hand out to help Raymond get up.

"Dude..." Raymond couldn't even form a sentence as his mind was racked with pain.

Raymond was literally leaning on Danny to stay upright and could feel his breathing on his neck.  He placed a hand on Danny's chest, ostensibly for support, and shuddered in pleasure.  They were in the perfect position to start making out like animals not to mention Danny was still rock hard.  He shuddered again as Danny drunkenly ran a strong hand through his hair.

"Sorry buddy,"

He said as he gave Raymond a peck on the forehead. Raymond nearly lost control of himself and broke away from their impromptu embrace before he did anything embarrassing.  Greg couldn't help but chuckle at Danny's cluelessness. He didn't even realize how close he was to being thrown down and fucked by his best friend, the sexual tension was so thick all that was missing was cheesy porno music.

"So, next round? We have to find the champion, right?"

Danny nodded as he helped Raymond take a seat next to his father where he promptly clutched his nuts and rocked back and forth.  The pain emanating from his right testicle was nauseating and it was a good thing he didn't attempt a visual inspection as he likely would have freaked out at how damaged looking it was.

Mr. Fielmer put his arm around his son as he eyed Danny who was now standing across from Greg.

"This round determines the champion,"  Danny said confidently.

"You like baby food?"

Danny looked puzzled before his eyes crossed from the tremendous crushing pain that rocketed through his loins.  Greg had flattened Danny's huge, swollen nuts to less than a quarter girth with a stomp-kick and Danny thought he was going to puke.

"...because I just turned your baby makers into baby food! Get it!"

Danny wasn't laughing as he struggled to regain his footing.

Danny gave Greg the type of hard, well-aimed kick that would have sent Raymond to his knees but the older Fielmer barely seemed phased.

"Balls of steel, son.  Balls of steel,"  Greg boasted.

Danny sighed as he spread his legs, his stomach muscles clenched in anticipation but Greg stopped just short of actually making contact this time.

"You know what? It is really hot in here. Kicking is exercise ya' know.  How about we loose these so I can see the target better?"

Before Danny could protest, Greg had grabbed the waist of his slacks and wrenched them to the ground. Mr. Fielmer felt himself getting flush as Danny stood wearing only his tight light-blue briefs. His cock had slightly deflated but was still semi-hard and poking up from his waistband, his head leaking precum into his navel.  Raymond couldn't help but get rock hard at the site of his best friend's amazing sculpted body.  Raymond hadn't really seen Danny this stripped down since he had been going to the gym and the results were stunning.  His abs, chest and legs were much more defined and  like normal - his huge nuts were creating two discernible bulges in his underwear.  Greg gasped.

"Wow, you're a fucking... wow, you're hot."

Danny smiled as he stepped out of his pants, striking poses and flexing.

"Isn't he fucking hot, Lyle?"  Greg said turning to his brother.

Raymond looked at his father shocked as he nodded his head yes and he swallowed.

"What about you? Seems like it wouldn't be fair with my junk sticking out like a target," Danny began.

Greg didn't need any more excuse as he pulled down his slacks and peeled off his shirt.  His body was fit, though a bit bulkier than his suit would have suggested, though a layer of thick black hair hid most definition anyway and his almost perfectly round balls created a nice bulge in his yellow underwear.

Greg licked his lips and took a step toward Danny.

"You still like 'em hairy?"

"Yes sir,"  Danny answered breathlessly only this time he wasn't joking.

He had a profoundly erotic but not necessarily sexual appreciation for the male form, especially when it was about to punish his nuts. Danny's mind raced as he admired Greg's thick biceps and strong arms, imaging just how much damage those guns could do to his boys.

"So... where were we?  Ah, right..."

Greg stomped Danny's balls ridiculously hard, snapping him out of his erotic fantasy.  If it had been captured in slow motion, Danny would have seen his huge bulge compressed nearly flat.  Immediately blackish welts appeared all over his scrotum, though the damage was hidden behind the fabric.

Danny's eyes crossed and he screamed collapsing forward to his knees where he was caught by Greg. Their torsos rubbed as Greg helped Danny regain his posture.

"Are you sure we cant just, ya' know, tag team this guy? I don't think he'd mind it,"  Greg asked his brother and nephew.

Greg's observation seemed astute as Danny wasn't even protesting being held virtually naked by a man who had made no secret of his lustful attraction to him.

It took Greg almost five minutes to steady himself enough to attempt a kick, which landed weakly into Greg's balls.  Greg did feign a scream and collapsed to the ground clutching his manhood, but sprang back up instantly chuckling.

"Oh come on, man.  You're balls are like lead."

"And yours are like... I don't know. Clay? Let's see if we can't make a new shape." Greg taunted as he circled Danny, greedily eye fucking him as he did.

"What do you think, Raymond? You like his clay balls round?"

Raymond looked at his uncle in confusion.

"What about you, Lyle?  Should I flatten em?"

Mr. Fielmer shouted "Hell yes!"

With that Greg, still standing behind Danny, send his foot flying between his legs. The tip of his foot landed perfectly into Danny's huge left nut so hard that it created a dent and sent the hefty blonde's body off the ground.  Danny landed with a thud and his hands went straight for his balls. Greg hoisted him to his feet from behind, his own rock hard cock rubbing against Danny's back, and held Danny up for Mr. Fielmer and son to admire him.

"Did I do it?"  Greg laughed.

"Not yet,"  Mr. Fielmer joked.

Danny's nut slowly started to plump back up and Danny howled as Greg let him go causing him to collapse into a heap.

Danny and Greg went back and forth several more times.  Each one of Danny's kicks were either weak or poorly aimed as the drunk, horny and pain-wracked stud found just standing up to be a challenge.  Meanwhile Greg was landing devastating blow after devastating blow with perfect aim and unnecessary violence.   There were stomp-kicks where he would flatten Danny's balls with the bottom of his foot, long kicks that sent the poor man into the air and an occasional knee that sent Danny's eyes crossing.  After a particularly ridiculous kick, Danny stood with his arms at his side, his eyes seeming to look in opposite directions and drooling, not even moaning or screaming. It was as if his pain processing system had just shut down.

"Uncle Greg, I think that's enough,"

Danny shook his head no and resumed his kicking position, landing a powerful kick that actually caught the champion nut-kicker off guard.  Greg slumped to his knees, purposefully falling just inches from Danny's crotch and rocked back and forth for a moment.

"So you've come to play, uh?  I'll show you, snot nosed kid,"

Greg sprang to his feet with renewed vigor and Raymond became slightly alarmed.

"Uncle Greg, he can barely stand up."

Greg ignored his nephew.

"You wanna' give up?"

The nerves in Danny's balls had switched into emergency mode, sending every pain signal to his brain they could in a desperate attempt to make him see reason.  Blood vessels were rupturing, sperm ducts had swollen shut, membranes were starting to tear, his scrotum was now purple.  His left nut was actually numb. Danny's balls were a complete disaster that, even if he stopped right now, would take days to heal but Danny was so turned on by the sheer ruthlessness of Greg's attack he couldn't help but keep his stance, legs obediently spread.  His abs were sticky with precum but Danny didn't care. He was so aroused he literally didn't care if his balls popped as long as it was this sexy, alpha male that did it.

Greg nodded at Danny in tacit agreement and sent his foot into Danny's nut sack.  Mr. Fielmer and Raymond both looked away grimacing at the hideous wet splat.  Danny screamed at the top of his lungs as his balls were nearly destroyed.  More membranes collapsed, more damage was inflicted. The swelling made his already large balls look practically fake.  Danny fell into a ball holding his stomach and rocking.

"That's enough, Uncle Greg..."

"Oh, you've come to really, play?"  Greg again ignored his nephew as Danny rose to his feel and motioned for Greg to assume the position.

Greg obliged and chuckled as Danny unleashed a comically inept kick that had barely finished landing before Greg send his own leg flying so fast it was a blur.

"Oh fuck!"

Danny wailed as he was lifted a foot off the air by an impact so hard it actually hurt Greg's shin.  Danny's fat nuts were flattened beyond the 'dangerously flat' level - just a fraction more force would have ended Danny's sex life forever - and the young man's eyes crossed as he landed on his back.  His nuts felt like they had just popped. It was incredible!  Without even caring, Danny reached into his shorts and grabbed his dick, ignoring the compulsion to soothe his balls.  He had barely stroked his thick cock three times before he let out a moan and squirted all over his abs and chest.

"Holy fuck!"

Greg exclaimed as he watched the writhing blonde coat himself with a thick, gooey load.  A few ropes landed all over his face. As Greg stepped between Danny's spread legs for a better view his foot inadvertently brushed against Danny's sack.

"Oh fuck yea... crush... OH!"

Danny, one of his eyes plastered shut, looked out to see Greg's powerful legs just inches from his defenseless balls and the visual prompted another volley of cum.

"I think he likes it,"  Greg said breathing heavily, amazed at the sheer volume of cum he had just kicked out of Danny.

Mr. Fielmer and his son were both breathing heavily, their twin eight inch cocks throbbing in their pants and Mr. Fielmer was licking his lips as if he was literally about to get on the ground and start licking Danny clean.  Raymond had a similar thought.

Greg knelt down and whispered "You want me to really ruin your nuts, don't you?" into Danny's ear and Danny's responded with another, albeit smaller, squirt of cum.

Everyone was silent for a few minutes, the three Fielmer's openly admiring the panting Danny who was still covered in cum. Raymond was the first to get up, heading to the bathroom to fetch a towel for his friend which he used to wipe up the gooey mess.  Danny didn't protest as Raymond mopped up what seemed to be a gallon of cum, some of it getting on his hands in the process.  As a force of habit, Raymond licked his fingers clean before immediately realizing he had an audience.

Uncle Greg just gave him a wink and his dad, breathing heavily, put his hand over his mouth as if trying to catch his breath.  Danny's cum was the thickest, sweetest tasting cum he'd ever had and his own cock started leaking precum as he savored the taste of best friend's baby batter.  He was so tempted to lick Danny's face clean but his earlier intoxication was starting to wear off and he wasn't feeling quite that ballsy.  Instead he used the towel to gently wipe Danny's face off.

"Thanks, bro," Danny said through heavy, post-orgasmic breaths.

"Anytime, man."

"So... we actually aren't quite done," Greg said clearing his throat.

"We have a champion, me of course, but we need a second place winner so that means..."

Danny's eyes lit up.

"Uncle Greg? No! No, I'm not playing against my dad."

"Why not? Scared he'll crack your nuts open?" Danny laughed as he sat up.

"No, it's just. No."

Mr. Fielmer stood up next to his son with a twisted grin.

"Well, Greg is right.  We need a second place winner,"

Greg and Danny took a seat next to each other and Greg's eyes rolled at the smell of spunk still coming from Greg's sweaty body. Greg leaned in and whispered into Danny's ear "I can't wait to kick the cum out of you again sometime, sound good?"

Danny looked at him smiling and nodded 'yes'.

Meanwhile Mr. Fielmer and Raymond were standing a few feet apart, Mr. Fielmer's legs spread and his arms behind his back.

"Not yet! I'll be right back."

Greg sprang to his feet and ran to the kitchen, returning with two coffee mugs half filled with tequila.

"Uncle Greg!"

Mr. Fielmer downed his in one quick gulp and winked at his son.

"It's liquid courage, son."

Raymond reluctantly took the giant shot and immediately felt light headed even though his swollen right nut was still throbbing.  He handed the empty mug back to his uncle, lined up his kick and sent his leg landing into his father's crotch with a thud.

Mr. Fielmer was taken aback at the strength of the kick and his knees buckled.

"Nice one!" Danny shouted.

Mr. Fielmer regained his footing and had barely let Raymond get into position before stomping his foot into his son's crotch.  Raymond howled and collapsed into a heap.  Like Raymond, his own nuts were throwing out emergency signals to stop which were being promptly canceled out by the alcohol.

The two went several rounds and it was evident that 'The Nutcracker' wasn't holding back.  Raymond thought back to his comment about having enough grandchildren and shuttered.

"Holy Hell, did you hear that!"  Greg laughed after the elder Fielmer landed a devastating blow to Raymond's crotch.

Raymond's balls were compressed violently and his right ball was now numb yet throbbing and almost black. Raymond clutched his midsection as a sickening pain boiled in the pit of his stomach and he felt woozy from the mix of pain and liquor.  He knew he should stop but something inside of him wanted to take 'The Nutcracker' down a peg.

Greg and Danny looked on as Raymond landed a nice firm kick into Mr. Fielmer's crotch eliciting a high pitched squeal but despite the effort Mr. Fielmer still stayed upright.

"Good one, son," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Ouch! Good thing you've already had kids," Greg laughed.

Raymond's nuts were pounding and his head was spinning.  So much so that, even though he thought he was standing up straight he was visibly wobbling.  Mr. Fielmer was too drunk to notice as he lined up his next kick.

He kicked back his leg and stomped Raymond's balls so hard his son was sent sailing backward, landing on his ass.  Raymond's eyes crossed and he let out a high pitched moan, his sack had been dangerously flattened and his right nut was... it actually didn't hurt anymore.  It was entirely numb.  If anyone had checked they would have seen the blackish ball was now permanently misshaped but still essentially round. Raymond sat breathing heavily, occasionally wailing, as he tried to stand.

After several minutes Danny shook his head and walked over to Raymond, hoisting him upright.

"You got this," he whispered into his friend's ear and Raymond's heart quickened from the feel of Danny's breath on his neck.  There was also another hot sensation; the feeling of Danny's hard cock rubbing into his back.

Once Raymond was up, Danny stood close behind in case he collapsed and the young man swung his foot up in a pathetic kick.  Ironically the kick caused more pain to him than to his father as his battered nuts were jostled violently by the swing.

Mr. Fielmer's nuts were also bruised and aching but he, like a champ, still kept his ground. He was just about to arch his leg back for another kick when Raymond collapsed in agony.  The pain signals coming from his crotch had reached a crescendo unlike any pain he had ever experienced.

Danny wasted no time hoisting him upright, locking his arms behind his back, his thick cock grinding into Raymond's back.  Raymond struggled to break free, or at least he thought he was, but all his body was actually doing was swaying slowly. His mind was hazy and he tried to say 'I give up' but all that came out was a whimper.  His uncle leaned in and Danny kept a tight grip as Mr. Fielmer sent his leg straight between his son's spread legs.

Danny barely escaped being struck himself as Mr. Fielmer's leg rocketed into Raymond's crotch as if he had fallen onto a log from a great height.  Raymond let out a blood curdling scream as his entire bloated, bloody sack was crushed upward into his body.  Mr. Fielmer's leg crushed Raymond's sack in such a way that his right ball was trapped awkwardly taking the brunt of the hit.

Alarm bells rang in Raymond's head and it seemed like everything slowed down.  He could feel his nut being compressed flatter and flatter, bulging and warping as it tried desperately to deflect the blow, but the pressure kept coming. It got dangerously flat, then impossibly flat...  Raymond's ball compressed to half its swollen girth, then a fourth, membranes starting imploding, sperm started spewing out of ruptured tubes. Raymond's sack was literally filling with the nut-guts that were supposed to be contained safely inside of their shell...


Suddenly there was tremendous pressure on the last whole nut in Raymond's sack and it permanently  warped into a bloated oval.  The sperm ducts of Raymond's left nut started collapsing, the membranes were compressed into each other, his nut wasn't just cracking it was about to...


The sensations which in reality lasted a fraction of second seemed to last forever...

The sound of Raymond's testicles rupturing was disgusting and wet.


Raymond screamed as Mr. Fielmer's glassed over eyes widened in horror as he withdrew his leg.  The large double lumps on Raymond's crotch were virtually flat. Raymond was convulsing so violently Danny couldn't help but let him go and he fell onto his back kicking his legs in the air screaming.

As Mr. Fielmer held down his son's legs Greg swooped down and urgently felt his nephew's crotch and his face dropped at what he felt.  Raymond's sack was quickly swelling into a huge mass but his balls... they were just gone.  Raymond's nuts had disintegrated.  There was no longer any discernible organs to be found, just mushy chunks.  All of Raymond's unborn kids were swimming helplessly in the ruins of his sack.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was convulsing as the three men around him began to realize the gravity of what had just happened.

"You popped one!"  Greg cried out as he continued kneading his nephew's destroyed balls in his hands, desperate to find anything salvageable.

Danny's face grew pale despite the fact his cock was raging even more now that Greg had confirmed his suspicions.  Danny rarely got jealous of anyone but right now he was more jealous of Raymond than he had been of anyone in his entire life.

"Oh fuck, Lyle! They exploded! You crushed them both!"  Greg screamed as he lifted Raymond up like a rag doll and set him on the couch.

"Exploded?"  Danny's cock jumped.

Raymond's eyes were permanently crossed and he attempted to turn his head to see what was going on around him.  There was a flurry of activity.  Mr. Fielmer ran to the sink to throw up.  Greg and Danny were hastily putting their clothes back on.  There was a jangle of keys as Greg remote-started his car.  Someone was frantically asking Siri for directions to the hospital.  Raymond felt an ice pack being applied to his ruined junk.

"Ex...ploded...?" Raymond asked, more like moaned, to no one in particular before blacking out.


I hope you enjoyed this.  This was a reader suggestion so if you have an idea for a story you'd like to read drop me a line in the comments or via email at TrumanSmith [at] gmail.com