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

Monday, February 20, 2017

Kiss Or Kick?

A slight breeze rustled through the palm trees that lined the path of Oceanside Park.  It was an uncharacteristically spring Saturday evening, even for southern California, and while the rest of America shivered indoors, the residents of Agrestic, California were out taking full advantage of the weather and the park was filled with people on bikes, elderly people power walking and desperate middle aged housewives escaping their cookie-cutter suburban homes for a bit of fresh air

Twenty year old Sam Kelly and his brother Wesley were among the park goers that day, armed with nothing more than a GoPro camera, some paper a marker and a safety pin. After all, it was a lazy Saturday evening; the Devil hardly knew what to do with four idle, mischievous hands.

“So are we really doing this?”

Sam ran a hand over his buzz cut hair which he had dyed blue just the week before for no other reason than he had seen it in a YouTube video.  He was a lanky young man who often seemed uncomfortable controlling his with his towering six foot eight frame, though that couldn’t possibly be construed as social awkwardness.  On the contrary, Sam was a textbook extrovert, constantly sporting an inviting grin, who could have struck up a conversation with one of the octogenarian power walkers as easily as one of his peers in the Star Wars Fan Club.  He was thin, yet toned, and sported a slight six pack under his plain white t-shirt more from sheer lack of body fat from any actual attempt at working out.  His legs were slim and almost always covered in skinny jeans that were so tight they seemed painted on, an arguable fashion faux pas that Wesley never missed an opportunity to make fun off.

“Yeah, we’re doing it,”  Wesley laughed as he lay in the grass with the poster board.

Wesley looked like a shorter, more muscular version of Sam and despite the fact he was more ostensibly hip than his Star Wars loving, skinny-jeans-wearing older brother, the nineteen year old could not have thought of anything more fun than hanging out with this older brother.  They both saw the world as an infinite stage on which to pull pranks, do ridiculous stunts or -- if the mood struck -- do ‘totally awesome’ (a Sam expression) things like walk into a restaurant, pay everyone’s bills and walk out unannounced.  Of course, all of their antics were filmed, expertly edited and uploaded to YouTube on their wildly popular channel.

“Okay, almost done...”

Wesley was putting the finishing touches on message he was drawing on sheet of white computer paper, taking exacting care to make sure the bold yet simple font was as legible as possible.  When we was satisfied, he stood up and handed Sam the finished product.

“Nice!” Sam said beaming as he admired his brother’s handiwork.

Written in large black letters so neatly they looked to have been generated by a machine were three simple words “KISS OR KICK?” below which was an arrow pointed straight down.

Still smiling, Sam held letter-sized message in front of him and stood next to a palm tree just off one of the park’s trails.  

Meanwhile, Wesley had turned on his camera and was standing a few feet away adjusting the image of his sign-holding borther in the viewfinder.

“A little lower, and to the left -- my left,”  Wesley directed.

Sam slowly lowered the sign until a nod from Wesley indicated for him to stop, the tip of the arrow now pointing directly at the ample bulge at the front of Wesley’s jeans.  The young man’s balls were large and the tight denim clung to them so tightly they didn’t just make an amorphous bulge, the clear shape of two distinct orbs could be made out.  When they were both satisfied with the placement, Sam pinned the paper to his shirt and put his arms behind his back.

Two women walked by chuckling and pointing.

“Step right up, step right up,”  Sam said playfully.

The women, still laughing, declined with a wave of their hands, the comical reaction captured by Wesley’s expert camera skills.

Sam stood for several minutes eliciting laughs from a few more passers by until a petite blonde girl who was walking along video chatting on her phone stopped abruptly in her tracks.  For a second Sam and Wesley weren’t sure if the girl was bemused or frightened but she cleared up all ambiguity when she burst into laughter.

“Oh my, gosh, Janet.  Are you seeing this?”

The young lady rotated her phone so that the person on the other end could read Sam’s sign.  Wesley’s camera picked up the sound of Janet laughing hysterically on the other end of the phone along with the sage advice that followed.

“He’s cute, girl.  I vote kiss,”

Still laughing, the blonde girl stepped up to Sam, held her camera out as if she was taking a selfie and puckered her lips.

Sam had to kneel to get level with the girl’s face and gave her a playful peck on the cheek to the delight of her tele-watching friend.

“Thank you, thanks for playing,”

Sam waved as the girl continued down the path wiping tears of laughter from her face.

The first woman was barely out of Wesley’s camera frame before two more ladies took a detour from their walk on the path to investigate the boyishly handsome young lad who was holding up sign pointed to his ample crotch. Both women, perhaps in their mid thirties, were dressed in bright red athletic pants and white tank tops, their faces still glistening from whatever exercise they were cooling down from.

“I’ll do kick!”

“Me too!”

Wesley zoomed in as the first woman grabbed Sam’s shoulders to brace herself before ramming her knee into his junk.  Sam gasped but kept his smile up, responding meekly “Next.”

The second woman took a slightly different approach, and motioned for Sam to spread his legs abit.  He had barely taken the wider stance when she bought her leg up in a nearly perfect arch and connected the tip of her foot to Sam’s aching nuts.

“Oooh!”  Sam nearly crumpled to his knees, but never stopped smiling, and thanked the women for playing.

They laughed and gave Sam high fives and a pat on the head as they made their way down the trail.

“Nice hits!”  

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” Sam coughed as he regained his footing.

Another minute went by before a woman who looked to be Sam’s age with buzzcut hair, a cropped leather jacket and a friendly looking beagle on a leash walked by and chuckled.

“Come on! Kiss or kick?”

The woman was clearly torn between continuing her walk and participating in the game, but her pet spoke for her.

“See look, he wants to see his nuts crunched.”

Wesley laughed as the dog ran up to Sam, tail wagging wildly, and barking happily.
Its owner’s somewhat serious facial expression softened a bit and she let out a wry smile. She tightened the dog’s leash and walked to up Sam, holding his shoulder’s like the first jogger had done.

“This is gonna’ be brutal,”  Wesley said to the camera.

Sam braced himself for a knee to the gonads, and was pleasantly surprised when the woman instead stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“I never pass up a chance to kiss a cute guy,”

She whispered in his ear and winked as she continued on her walk.

“Oh, come on!  Why didn’t you pick kick?”  Wesley sighed with comedic exaggeration.

The dog walker turned, gave Wesley a wink and blew him a kiss.

“She said I was cute!”

“Yeah, you’re a real stud...”

Wesley wasn’t disappointed by the next four women who took on the challenge.  Sam’s nuts were assaulted by four kicks delivered by a jogger, a middle-aged housewife and two college girls wearing matching sorority sweatshirts.

“Don’t mess with a cheerleader!”  the coed said laughing, doing a powerful high kick for the camera.

In the background of the shot was Sam who was on his knees after having been on the receiving end of such a kick.

“Thank you ladies, good advice,” Wesley laughed.

“That last one kinda’ hurt,”

Sam’s knees were wobbly as he stood up, but an infectious smile was still plastered across his face.

“This is gonna’ make such a hilarious video, I wish we had more...”

Just then three more women who just happened to be walking by at the same time all started laughing and pointing at the hapless lad, who was hunched over slightly, but whose arms were still held steadfastly behind his back leaving his mounding crotch totally exposed.

The three strangers, started chatting amongst themselves pointing to the strange spectacle.  Wesley zoomed in on them and imaged the hilarious conversation we was going to dub over this part of the video.

“I say he crush his nuts good! Who likes peanut butter?” he imagined them saying.

Wesley held the camera out and turned it onto himself to offer commentary.

“Right now, those three lovely ladies are determining the best way to end half of the family tree.  Luckily though, the flame won’t completely die out,”

He grabbed his own crotch and winked, turned the camera back just as the first woman took a position in from of Sam, the other two anxiously waiting behind him.

She was a tall, thin woman in her twenties with jet black hair and blue eyes that contrasted starkly with her bronze skin.  Wesley’s face flushed red and he found himself zooming in on her exotic beauty jealous that he wasn’t the one about to receive a kiss.

To Wesley’s chagrin, the bombshell leaned in and locked her lips over Sam, running a hand through his short hair as she did.  Sam’s heart fluttered as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth, and was reaching to grasp her closer when she pulled away smiling.

She licked her lips and turned toward the other two woman.

“He’s not a bad kisser,”

All three women laughed as the next one in line stepped up.  She was older, maybe in her late forties, and wearing a pantsuit, carrying a briefcase and sporting a Bluetooth headset in her ear.  The woman looked like she had literally just left work and despite her no-nonsense appearance, a broad friendly smile flashed across her stony face.

Sam smiled back and had just puckered his lips when the woman’s smile took on a more sinister shape and she sent her leg flying upward.  Sam had noticed the change the woman’s face just has her shin crashed between his legs, sending his huge balls flying upward.

“Oommph!” Sam’s eyes crossed and he clutched his battered sack, crumpling to his knees.

The business woman giggled and turned to give a thumbs up to the camera.

“Look at that! My brother’s offering up his stress balls to California’s working women.  God bless him.”  

Sam was coughing so missed his brother’s witty commentary, but always one to be entertaining, he was back to his feet in a matter of moments.

“Okay, please say you’ll kiss me?”

Though Sam was in a bit of pain, he hammed up the desperation in his voice for the sake of the camera, even making a praying motion with his hands.


The last woman, a busty red-head about Wesley’s age wearing a tank top that barely contained her bosom made a face of fierce concentration as she debated smashing Sam’s balls again or taking the exotic woman’s advice and giving him a kiss.

“What do you think, America?”

She turned to the camera and asked playfully as if she was on live television. Playing along, Wesley held a finger up to his ear and nodding as if getting instructions from a control room.

“What’s that, sir?  You want her to crack his nuts?  Really?  Both of them?  Okay, whatever you say,”

All three women clapped and Sam groaned as Wesley said with deadly seriousness “Well, the audience has voted and with ninety-percent of the votes in, they say... kick!”

“Okay,” the young woman said faking a frown, “I mean, I wanted to kiss you, but you heard the man. Spread ‘em.”

Sam rolled his eyes and took a wider stance.

“You know you can still kiss me, ya’ know?”

“I can’t hear you my eyes are up here,” the woman said laughing as she followed Sam’s eyes to her chest.

“Oh I’m sor.... Ooomph”  

Sam’s wandering eyes were still on her breasts when he was suddenly wrenched back into reality by a powerful impact to his aching balls.  She had reared her leg back and sent the bottom of her foot crashing into Sam’s unmistakable targets, flattening them into his body and sending the lanky prankster falling backwards like a felled tree.  As Sam lay staring up into the sky, clutching his balls and rolling in the grass the sound of the three women laughing and high fiving each other echoed with the seemingly audible pounding, shooting pain radiating in the pit of his stomach.  His smile was hard to maintain through waves of nausea and tears of genuine pain. How on Earth could such a petite, friendly looking woman have inflicted so much devastation.

Meanwhile, Wesley was struggling to hold the camera level as tears of laughter streamed down his face.  In his head he was imagining the hilarious sound effects of eggs shattering and lumber falling he was going to dub over this section of footage.

“Thank you, thank you for playing.” he barely got out as he waved goodbye to the women who were disbanding from their impromptu council.

As the other two went their separate ways, the redhead walked up to Wesley, kissed him on the cheek and smiled at the camera.

“That’s the power of democracy! Keep America great!”

She blew one last kiss to the camera and went off practically skipping down the path.

“Man, haha, does she know how to work a camera,”  

“Yeah...” Sam said coughing as he tried to regain his footing, “she was real knock-out.”

Sam immediately regretted the double entendre.

“Yeah, she knocked you out good! Anything left down there!”  

Wesley was in hysterics, the camera gyrating wildly, as he walked over and offered his brother a hand. Sam was halfway to his feet before collapsing back to his knees, his lumbering frame bringing Wesley down with him.  The two brothers landed in a heap. Wesley gave his kid brother a look of feigned sympathy, making sure to capture the look of anguish that was etched across his face.

“How’s everything down there?”  Wesley gave his brother a playful punch to the groin that elicited a high pitched, pathetic yelp.


Wesley got to his feet and offered Sam his hand again. Sam’s face flashed in anger and he immediately covered his balls with his hands lest Wesley take advantage with a surprise nutshot.

Wesley turned off the camera and gave his brother a sincere look.

“Hey, I’m sorry.  Do you wanna’ stop bro?”

Sam slowly rose to his feet, spread his legs and put his hands behind his back, his bulging nuts back on full display.

“No, no. I’m good.”

Wesley smiled and turned the camera back on.  Their wild antics simply weren’t funny to him unless both of them were having fun.

It took Sam several minutes to recover to being able to stand erect without a hand reaching to cradle his balls and during that time - to his relief - none of the women who walked by and chuckled took him up on his offer.

“What’s all this then? Are you wanting to wreck my brother’s sack?”

Wesley asked cooly as a stalky coed and her male companion as they were stopped in their tracks by the sign, but unlike the past few people they proceeded to walk off the trail and take a stand next to Sam.

“What in the world? I cannot believe it! They’re huge!” the young woman chuckled as she pointed to the obvious bulge in Sam’s jeans.

Wesley readied the camera, knowing for sure the woman’s girlfriend wasn’t going to let her take the option to kiss Sam.

“Can I do it, or is it girls only?”

The young man was nearly as tall as Sam, but more muscular, his tattooed biceps straining his plain white T-shirt.  His stern face was handsome and stubbled and he seemed to be contemplating the situation with much deliberation.

“Umm, sure.  We’re equal opportunity, I guess. Let him have it!”

The man stepped up to Sam and Wesley was sure he was going to film a castration in all of its agonizing detail;  the man’s legs were thick and his thighs filled out what were supposed to be baggy athletic shorts.

Sam braced himself for what was about to happen, clenching his eyes despite the goofy Devil-may-care smile he was still sporting for the camera.

“Oh! Oh!”  

Wesley gasped in surprise as the young man leaned in and planted his lips firmly on Sam’s.  To Wesley’s surprise, Sam parted his lips and proceeded to give the handsome young man the same passionate kiss he’d given to the exotic dark haired woman earlier.  Sam’s hands came from behind his back and locked behind the man as they drew even closer.

For her part, the young woman clapped and cheered as the kiss ended and Sam stepped back from the stranger.  

“I guess I picked kiss,” the young man said, turned toward the camera.

“I’ll say!  Wow. That was... wow.”  Sam answered breathlessly.

He was breathing heavily and was incredibly aroused by the situation, causing a third lump to appear in his tight pants.  His mind had barely processed what was happening before the coed stepped up and declared “Kick!”


Sam’s knees tried to buckle but he willed himself upright, waves of pain radiating from his crotch after a particularly devastating knee delivered from the girl’s large leg.

“Kiss and kick.  We have it both ways,”

Wesley laughed as the two made their way back down the path.

“Speaking of both ways, really, bro?”

Sam cut his brother a wry smile “What? A cameraman who can’t handle a little breaking news?”

Wesley looked at his ostensibly straight brother quizzically but was greeted only with a shit-face grin.

“What? He was hot guy. I like hot guys.”

Wesley shut off the camera again.

“Sam? Are you...”

“Turn the camera back on, here comes another one.”

Wesley obliged and started filming again.

“What’s it gonna be, kiss or kick?”

A middle aged woman in a hideous bright blouse was walking toward Sam.  She looked familiar... That’s when Wesley realized she had walked by earlier, markedly not amused, during Sam’s recovery period.  Only this time she wasn’t alone.  Coming into frame was a svelte, young man wearing khaki slacks, shiny loafers and a polo shirt with a word plastered across the chest that instantly made Wesley’s heart start to race: Police.

Ever one to catch unexpected developments for his fans, Wesley willed himself to keep the camera rolling.

“That’s him, officer.  Arrest him! Arrest him now!”

The woman’s shrill voice seemed to annoy even officer and he motioned for her to calm down.

“What are you boys up to?”

The question’s phrasing seemed odd considering Wesley was sure the officer couldn’t have been older than Sam.

“Officer! Please arrest these miscreants. I bring my grandkids here to play! And that one there has a camera.  Probably a pervert,” she scoffed, her face turning red as she motioned toward Wesley.

Despite the situation Wesley was actively envisioning the witch's theme from The Wizard of Oz being the perfect soundtrack to accompany this part of the video and the woman was clearly not amused by the slight smile that came across Wesley’s face as he played the tune in his head.

“Ma’am, everything is under control. Please let me take care of this.”

Perturbed that the officer wasn’t as affronted as she was, the woman gasped - pointed to Wesley and Sam as if she was standing witness to the Devil - and turned to leave.

“Have a nice day, ma’am,”

The woman didn’t seem to hear the officer as she stormed off.

All three men stood silently for a moment.

“Women, right?  So emotional,” Wesley said trying to downplay the situation.

The friendly officer’s face quickly turned serious as he looked Sam.

“What are you doing, young man? Don’t you know this is a public park?”

Sam stammered.  The officer was really cute and the memory of the handsome man he had just kissed was still swirling in his head.

“We were making a video. Just something for YouTube.” Wesley said walking toward the officer.

“No one’s naked here or anything,”

As the officer eyed Sam, his eyes seemed to linger at the comical bulge in his pants.

“Do you think it’s funny stuffing your pants like that with kids running around? Families?”

Sam’s face flushed red.

“Um, my pants aren’t stuffed sir...”

“I mean, they are stuffed but not with a sock.”  Wesley couldn’t help himself as he cracked a joke.

Sam cut Wesley a look of death and the officer clearly wasn’t amused.

“Young man, you are under arrest for violating...”

Sam face instantly dropped and his heart started to race with panic.  Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion yet rapidly at the same time.  Sam couldn’t even comprehend the words coming out of the officer’s mouth as he rattled off the municipal codes Sam was breaking. Something about indecent exposure and soliciting sexual acts. It was all too much.


Sam was again wrenched into reality as he felt his hands, which were still behind his back from the stunt, being constrained with plastic zip style handcuffs.

“Please! Wesley, call mom!”  

Wesley, still filming, couldn’t help but laugh at his confident, mature brother crying out for mommy in a moment of weakness.

“Bro, she’s home in San Francisco. What’s she gonna’ do?”

Wesley’s question was entirely valid; what could a middle aged school teacher who lived four hours away possibly to do help?  But Sam was flustered and infuriated at his brother’s apparent lack of concern.  Despite his seeming debonair attitude, Wesley was - for the first time - genuinely concerned for Sam and thought carrying on cooly would help calm him down.  It wasn’t working.  Also, since he wasn’t the one being handcuffed, Wesley couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief - countered immediately with guilt - as the officer lead his brother away.

Wesley shut off the camera.


Sam called out, his voice cracking as Wesley stood by helplessly.


Despite his life time of video-recorded antics, he had always managed to skirt the law, and even if he occasionally broke an ordinance or two, he’d never gotten in serious trouble.  His mind twisted itself into knots as his imagination ventured down the rabbit hole.  What if he had to register as sex offender? What if there was some huge fine? How would he pay it?  And he had work on Monday morning, what if he was still in jail? He’d be fired!

Sam wept in the back of the police cruiser for the short drive to the city jail, occasionally gasping with a sob after his mind went down a particularly dark path.

When the car was parked, the young officer turned to Sam showing heartfelt , yet professional, regard for the young man’s fright.

“Listen to me. Everything’s going to be alright, you didn’t rob a bank or anything.”

The words only made Sam’s panic more acute.  He started hyperventilating.  This wasn’t happening.

“Listen.  Take deep breaths, okay.  Deep breaths. Slow”

The officer put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and held it there encouraging deep breaths until Sam had calmed down a bit.  This isn’t happening, Sam thought over and over in a feedback loop.

Booking and processing took much longer than it seemed to in the movies.  There were fingerprints. Photographs.  It was all a nightmarish blur to Sam, who had calmed down a bit but whose face was still streaked with dried tears.

At one point Sam found himself in a small room alone with a breathalyzer machine.  He’d had a a couple beers that afternoon? Would that show up?  He rocked in his chair focusing on his breathing.  After what seemed like ages, the young officer returned.

“Well, good news, Sam.  We’re not going to move forward with charges, but you didn’t blow a zero so we’re just gonna’ hold you over night.”
Sam was mortified at the thought and his eyes started to well with tears.  The officer, feeling genuinely sorry for the distress the otherwise trivial matter was causing his captive, put his hand on Sam’s chest.

“Breath, breath. Calm down. In the morning you can stop at the clerk and pay the fine.  Just breath.”

The man’s hand pressing against his chest immediately stopped Sam from hyperventilating again.  The officer lead Sam out of the room to a small cell, pressed a button to open the door and pointed inside.  Sam looked at the officer pleadingly as he walked in and shuddered as at the clang as the door closed behind him.

“Please, try to stay calm.  Everything is going to be alright, okay?” the officer said as he gave Sam a smile, nodded and walked away.

At least he’s polite, Sam thought as he finally began to calm down and look at the situation rationally.  He wasn’t going to prison.  He wouldn’t lose his job.  Just a night in a holding cell... why did I have those beers? If only I hadn’t...

The sound of someone hiccuping interrupted Sam before his mind could go into another infinite loop.  In his fog he had barely registered that there were other men in the cell.  Sam looked around to gain his bearings;  the cell was small with grey walls to match the grey floors. There was a metal toilet with a sink built into the side in one corner there was a bunk bed against each of three walls and one bunk bed in the middle of the room. The fourth wall was made of bars that looked out into a dreary hallway.  Bright lights shone down from the ceiling.  Indeed, the four beds made the already small cell seem even smaller and more claustrophobic.

Sam turned toward the direction of the hiccup and saw a handsome middle-aged businessman sitting on one of the beds along the wall.  He was in a stained white dress shirt and wreaked of tequila.  A lanky black man was lying in the bunk above him twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

Two other men wearing what appeared to be package delivery uniforms were sitting next to each other talking on another bed. The last inmate was a short, burly brown headed man with a stylish goatee standing against the wall.  He was dressed only in swim trunks and a prison-issued grey T-shirt and his gaze seemed to be unfocused as if he were high on drugs.  The shirt was several sizes too small so clung to the man’s washboard abs leaving nothing to the imagination.

“What are you looking at?”

The man in the swim trunks barked in an accent that sounded French.  In Sam’s daydream state he must have been staring at - or perhaps admiring - the man without thinking.

“Oh, sorry.”

Sam kept his head down and made his way to one of the unoccupied bunks.  Sam felt like a giant amongst the cramped furniture and low ceilings, and he awkwardly maneuvered his nearly seven foot body through the cell.

“What does that say? Joe, do you see that?”

One of the package delivery men stood abruptly and walked toward Sam.  The man was a bit shorter than Sam, but filled out his uniform nicely, his rugged face framed with shoulder length, messy blonde hair.

Sam glanced at him and read the name Tyler embroidered onto his shirt under the logo of the delivery company.  What in the world could have landed two on duty delivery men in jail?  Drugs? Traffic stop?  Maybe they were stealing packages...

“Hey, I’m talking to you. What does that say?” Tyler asked gruffly.

Sam had done it again; zoned out and gotten lost in an effort to forget his current predicament at the expense of paying attention to what was actually going on around him.  Tyler was now standing nearly face to face with Sam, who was hunched over and holding his hands to his stomach, trying to shrink out of existence.

“What does what say?” Sam asked in confusion.  

There were no books, magazines, posters or televisions in the room.

“That sign on your shirt?”

By now Joe, Tyler’s coworker, was also standing.  Joe was slimmer than Tyler, but equally well built and with matching dirty blonde hair.  He wasn’t particularly attractive but Sam was struck by his heterochromia; one eye was a vivid blue and the other an almost emerald green.

“Sign? Oh...”

A wave of panic suddenly overtook Sam as he remembered he was still wearing the ‘kiss or kick’ sign on his shirt, the arrow still pointed to his mounding crotch.

“Oh, this is nothing,”

Sam ripped off the sign and was attempting to crumple it up but Tyler snatched the sign cleanly out of his hands.  Sam went to reach for it but was stopped cold by a less-than-friendly ‘halt’ hand motion by Tyler.
Tyler and Joe both burst into laughter as they read it, both of their eyes darting down to Sam’s groin.  Sam’s face flushed red with embarrassment. By now the man in swim trunks had walked over and had also read the sign.

He scratched his chin as his eyes went from the sign to Sam’s crotch, then back to the sign and his face took on a disgusted expression.

“Fucking pervert!” the man barked as he took a step toward Sam.

Despite towering over the man, Sam took a step back in fear causing his back to be pressed against the bars.

The odd juxtoposition of Tyler and Joe laughing hysterically and the confrontational tone of the brown headed man’s comment had now drawn the attention of the black man who had been lying in bed.

“What’s so funny down there,” he asked looking down on the scene.

“You gotta’ check this shit out,”

Tyler handed the sign to the black man who broke into a broad grin as he read it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Is he for real?”

The man hopped off the bunk and joined the Sam and the other three against the bars.  Now only the drunken, middle aged businessman was the only one not in on the joke, but he was now holding his face in his hands taking deep breaths as if trying to recover from a wicked hangover.  At least he isn’t paying attention, Sam thought.

“So, um.  I’m Sam.  Nice to meet you.”

Sam held out his hand to the gruff inmate in the swimtrunks in an effort to normalize the situation and defuse the tension.

“And I’m Paul,” the swimmer shot back.

“That’s Isaac,”  he said pointing to the black man.

“And you’re a pervert,”

Paul took a step closer, now toe to toe with Sam, trapping him against the bars.

“Look buddy, I don’t want any... Oomph!”
Without warning Paul slammed his knee into crotch, crushing Sam’s nuts between his pelvis and Isaac’s steel-like knee. Sam’s eyes grew wide and he reached to cradle his aching nuts reflexively but before Paul slammed his knee into Sam’s balls one more time.


Sam screamed and his knees went weak.

Tyler and Joe laughed hysterically as the lanky youngman slid down the cell bars.

“Guess he picked kick!” Tyler roared.

“Wait, what about me?” Isaac said with a grin.

Before Sam could even process what was happening, Tyler and Joe were at his side forcing him back to a standing position.

“No! Please!”

Sam’s pleas fell on deaf ears and the Isaac reared his leg back and sent it sailing into Sam’s crotch, the tip of his large foot connecting directly with the base of Sam’s trapped sack, sending the two orbs bouncing upward.

Sam screamed and attempted to bring his hands down but Tyler and Joe had already grabbed his arms and were holding them helplessly against his body, leaving his bulging crotch totally exposed.

“Whoa, that was fun. Lemme’ try again...”


Sam’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth opened in a silent ‘O’ as the lanky inmate’s powerful kick connected over and over with his screaming balls.  Sam’s huge nuts were already swelling, trapping them even more tightly in his jeans and making the target even more inviting to his captors.

“Wait, wait.  Wasn’t kiss an option?”

Tyler and Joe looked over at the businessman whom everyone had just assumed was too drunk to be paying attention and noticed he was making his way over, stumbling, to the five men.

Paul let out a disgusted grunt as the man stood next to Sam, grabbed the back of his head and lunged his face into him.  There was nothing Sam could do but struggle futily against Tyler and Joe’s death grip forcing him in place.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”  

Sam tried to struggle as the handsome man’s tongue explored the inside of his mouth.  Sam felt betrayed by his own body as he felt his tongue returning the favor.

“Mmmph! Mmmmmph!”


While still kissing Sam, the businessman rose his knee over and over and over into the comically large bulge in Sam’s pants, causing the mound to flatten viciously with every blow.

The cruel makeout session lasted nearly a minute during which Sam’s balls were hammered nearly non stop.  They felt like they were going to just explode right in his jeans.

“He’s not a bad kisser,”  

The businessman said winking as he finally pulled away, but not before delivering one last kick to Sam’s nuts.


Tyler and Joe loosened their grip and allowed Sam to crumple slightly, but didn’t allow his thrashing arms enough movement to cradle his battered manhood.

“Please! Please! It was a joke I....  OOOH!”

Isaac sent a fist flying into Sam’s crotch.

“Wow, those things are huge,”


“Ooooh... Mmmmph!”

Sam tried to scream but was silenced by Paul stuffing his shirt into his mouth.  Sam tried to gag as the sweaty T-shirt dangled out of his mouth but it was no use and he found himself betrayed by his body again as his dick started to twitch at the site of Paul’s perfectly chiseled torso.

All the watching men laughed.

“Why the fuck would you put a target on these?”

The businessman grabbed Sam’s bulge with both hands and squeezed them together.  Sam could feel both of his large nuts being compressed horribly into each other as the man’s vice like grip laid waste to his swollen, bruised nuts.  Sam’s testicles became the other thing he could focus on and his pleading eyes drifted upward to the ceiling as his screams were muted by the gag.

“Move!”  Paul barked.

The businessman gave Sam’s nuts another squeeze before stepping aside and Paul got a cruel glint in his eye as he approached.

“Hmm.  Kiss or kick?  Which one do you want, boy?”

Paul winked as he ran his gruff hands over his washboard abs and licked his lips suggestively.  Sam felt his dick twitch again...  Paul stopped his flirtatous teasing and scoffed.

“The little fucker is actually getting off on this!”


Paul pounded his knee into Sam’s crotch so hard Sam thought he was going to throw up.


Muted thuds echoed through the cell as Paul lifted his knee a dozen times into Sam’s trapped crotch.

“Oh yeah! Kick! Kick!”

Tyler and Joe shouted in near unison as is Paul needed any prompting.

“Mmmph! Pwwwph!”

Isaac grimaced in sympathy as Paul grabbed Sam’s shoulders and drove his knee several more times into the young man’s crotch, pulling Sam toward him with each blow to increase the impact.

By now Sam’s nuts has swollen to a ridiculous size and were not totally trapped in his tight jeans.  They were unable to move or jiggle even the slightest to help deflect any more blows.


Sam’s eyes crossed and the young man found himself slipping from consciousness as Isaac stepped up delivered a powerful kick between his spread legs.

“I should probably tell you guys, I’m a soccer player...”

“... so this is second nature to me...”



Tyler and Joe were in hysterics as they watched Isaac’s foot crushing into Sam over and over.

“Save some for us!”  Tyler laughed as Isaac landed on more devastating kick before stepping aside for Paul.

“I wonder if I can make him puke up his own nuts!”

Sam looked at Paul pleadingly as the burly man reared his leg back and sent it sailing toward Sam’s crotch.  Sam’s eyes grew wide with panic and he shut them tightly just before Paul’s foot made contact.  To everyone’s surprise -- most especially Sam’s -- Paul stopped short of actually making contact.




The handsome businessman rubbed his rock-hard cock through his slacks as he watched Paul threaten, but no deliver, several powerful kicks.  Maybe he’ll just keep toying with me? Maybe if I play along... Sam tried to rationalize the situation as best he could.


This time Paul followed up with a powerful kick that lifted Sam off the ground.  His enormous, swollen balls ricocheted violently in their sack and were still jiggling around when...

Sam’s testicles were flattened and jostled in their denim prison as Paul kicked him again.

“When I’m done, you’ll probably be down a pants size!”

Sam’s eyes widened in terror as Sam swung his leg back and sent it flying.


Sam nearly wretched as Paul’s foot collided so hard that he was not only lifted from the ground, but lifted so violently that for a brief moment Tyler and Joe lost their grip.  Sam landed in a heap and hardly had a moment to enjoy his relative freedom before Tyler and Joe had grabbed him and hoisted him up again.

Isaac, who was in tears of laughter after watching the latest round, motioned for Paul to step aside which the sadistic man did begrudgingly.

The lanky, but powerful, black man reached forward and grabbed Sam’s balls with a viscous squeeze and twist.  Sam screamed into his gag and his vision was blurred with tears.

“So when does your game end, dude”

Isaac continued to knead and twist Sam’s trapped balls.

“Let me guess? When one of these pops?”

Sam had just registered the comment when Isaac released his grip and pounded his fist into Sam’s nuts.  Sam’s eyes bugged out as he felt his swollen nuts compressed dangerously flat against his pelvis, the burning pain not even fulling registered before it happened again, and again.

“These are some big ass nuts,”

Isaac could clearly feel how large Sam’s tortured nuts were as his knuckles worked to tirn them into mush.

Sam was nearly comatose as his brain was flooded by a constant stream of intense, gut wrenching pain coming from his crotch.  But Isaac wasn’t finished.

Taking a page out of Paul’s playbook, Isaach grasped Sam’s shoulders and used Sam’s own towering frame as leverage as he pounded his knee over and over into Sam’s devastated nuts.

“If anyone wnts a turn, you’d better hurry,”

“Won’t be anything left soon...”

Sam was terrorized by the animalistic lust on Isaac’s face as he pounded his knee into his ridiculously swollen nuts repeatedly.  Sam’s nuts were crushed to a fraction of their girth and weren’t given any time to plump back up.

“Oh yeah! Fuck!”

Isaac was shamelessly sportingly an erection in his sweatpants as he felt Sam’s dense nuts get softer and squishier under his knee.



Sam shook his head no violently. Begging Isaac to stop.

“Fuck yeah! Game over!”

Tyler cheered on Isaac as his knee pounded in Sam’s nuts.

“You guys want me to stop?”


Sam blacked out, a look of horror etched across his boyish face, as Isaac continued to slam his knee into the helpless man’s crotch.


“If I don’t stop...”


“...it’s curtains for this dude’s sex life.”

Isaac could feel that Sam’s nuts were markedly less firm with each blow, but he didn’t care.  Inside his jeans, Sam’s nuts were turning a hideous purplish-black and were visibly less round than normal.

Drool dribbled down the corner of Sam’s mouth as Isaac’s knee slammed into his crotch yet again.

“Oh! That had to hurt,”

Isaac chuckled as he felt Sam’s nuts crushed under his knee.

“My turn now. I pick, kick.”

Paul took his place in front of Sam and wasted no time raising his leg between the boy’s legs. This time Paul took a different approach, ramming his thick swim-trunk clad thigh into Sam’s nuts.  He could feel the delicate orbs being absolutely oblitherated under his powerful blows.  Paul knew he was doing real damage to Sam’s sexlife, but he didn’t care.  Each blow landed with a sick, wet crunch and Paul knew Sam’s nuts couldn’t take much more before they cracked.

Paul grabbed the bulge in Sam’s jeans and squeezed.

“You guys want me to flatten ‘em?”

“Yes!” Tyler and Joe cheered.

“Yes!”  Isaac echoed.

Paul turned to the businessman who was rubbing his crotch, and he too nodded ‘yes’.



Paul pile drove his powerful leg again and again into Sam’s nuts.  He couldn’t see the blackish color they had turnred, or see the tremendous internal damage he was causing Sam’s testocles, but he could feel it.  The once firm bulge in Sam’s jeans was now positivelu squishy.


A jolt of pain so tremendous radiated from Sam’s crotch and rocketed him back into consciousness.

“Mmmph! Mmmmph!”

Sam was pleading and begging.


His battered right nut felt like it was on fire....


In a panic, Sam began struggling so hard that even the strong delivery men were having trouble keeping him still.


Sam could feel a horible pain from his right nut...


Sam’s right nut felt like it was gonig to burst...


“Oh fuck yeah. Almost game over, son.”

Paul kept cruel eye contact with Sam as his thigh rammed into his crotch so hard and so fast that Sam’s back was starting to hurt from being pounded into the bars.  His right nut felt so fucking bad...

“Mmmmph! Mmmmmph!”

Sam’s head shook violently as he begged and pleaded for Paul to stop.


“Oh yeah! You wanna’ keep playing”

Paul ripped the gag from Sam’s mouth.

“Help! Please!”

Sam screamed into the empty hallway.


“Beg me to stop!”

“Please! Please stop!”

Paul only smiled and drove his knee into the obvious target in the front of Sam’s jeans, grabbing the young man as he did so and pulling him toward him.  The combined pressure of being pulled toward an already powerful kick was just too much for Sam’s right nut..


Sam’s beefy right nut split in two inside his sack.


Paul didn’t immediately realize what had happened as he continued to pound his knee into Sam.


Sam’s right nut was further destroyed and his left was starting to crumble.

“Oh fuck!”

Tyler shrieked as he noticed the outline of Sam’s nut, which had left nothing to the imagination even before the hideous swelling, has now permanently flattened.

“Do the othe one!”

Joe’s cock was raging in his slacks as he egged Paul on.

Paul’s knee piled again and again into Sam’s last whole nut, his cock tenting his swim trunks.
“Fucking do it!” Isaac shouted rubbing his own croch.

Sam pleaded and begged...



The businessman nearly blasted a hole in his slacks as he spewed a thick, creamy load.  Sam found himself fixated at the enormous, slick stain on the businessman’s pants.

“Please! No!”


Sam opened his mouth and screamed at the top of his lungs...

Paul rose his knee into Sam’s crotch again, this time he could feel in exquisite detail Sam’s sex organ flattening, bulging around his knees, getting flatter, and flatter...

Sam threw up all over himself as his left nut collapsed like a fleshy accordion, compressed to a quarter inch.  Only this time it didn’t plump back up.  

“Oh yeah!”  Paul screamed in ecstasy, pulling Sam closer until his rippled abs were touching Sam’s puke stained shirt.


Paul’s cock twitched as he felt chunks of Sam’s nuts bursting under his knee.

“Oh fuck!’  

Paul explosively creamed himself -- his knee still planted into Sam’s crotch.  A thick trail of jizz ran down his open swim trunk legs and he crumpled to his knees from the force of his orgasm.

“Holy fuck!”

Tyler and Joe let go of Sam, allowing his tall, lanky body to land with a heap.  They had both pulled their thick cocks out of their slacks and were about to jerk them when all the men were interrupted by the sound of a door opening in the hallway.

“Stop! Stop right there!”

The officer from earlier, this time joined by several others with riot gear stormed into the hall toward the cell.  As the other officers got to work handcuffing and subduing the other men in the cell, the officer knelt beside Sam and cradled his head.

“I got ya’ buddy,”

Despite being much shorter than Sam, the officer lifted the blacked-out young man as if he was light as a feather, carrying him out as more officers responded to the scene.


The next day, there was a brief mention on the local news of an assault on an inmate at the city jail, but it was immediately eclipsed by a heated story about a controversial bond proposal. How quickly a man's manhood is forgotten...

Sam awoke three days later in a hospital bed, wearing only a hospital gown.  His hair was disheveled and he swelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks.  


Wesley broke down into tears of joy and relief, clutching his brother’s hand from the side of the bed.

“What... I don’t... happened...”

Sam could barely formulate a complete sentence as pain medication swam through his brain.  Wesley had gone into a rant about how a lawyer had seen the story on the news and had reached out to help; there was a mention of a large settlement and charges being filed for various prison officials, but Sam tuned most of it out.

He rose his lethargic hand and felt for his crotch.


Sam screamed, interrupting Wesley’s stream of consciousness diatribe.  Sam could not remember anything about his ordeal in the cell, but what he felt under his gown confirmed his suspicions.  His huge, stuffed nut sack was gone.  He could feel the jagged stitches below his cock marking where they had once been.

Sam looked at Wesley sadly.

“Oh... shit...”

Sam turned to look away in shame and that’s when he noticed the other figure in the room.  At first Sam thought he was a doctor, since he was wearing a white button up shirt and khakis, all freshly pressed and looking very professional.  But he quickly recognized him as the handsome officer who had arrested him what seemed to be a lifetime ago.

The officer gave Sam a warm smile and placed his strong hand on his chest.  Somehow that helped make Sam feel better.  It was gentler than when he had calmed Sam down at the jail, almost intimate.  The officer looked at Sam with genuine tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. The sign. I should’ve taken it off...”

“Don’t you talk to him, fucker,”

Wesley growled with a rage Sam had never experienced from his brother.

“I’m not a cop anymore, I don’t care about the case, sue me. I don’t care,”

A tear fell and landed on Sam’s face.

“I just wanted to make sure...”

“He’s okay,”  Sam said, quieting Wesley’s obvious disdain, “He saved me.”

Sam looked at the officer and they both smiled at each other as Sam faded back to sleep.