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|Welcome to Cracked Nuts, Paul|
Boring. Weak. Naive. Those are three words used to describe me that, though not particularly flattering, are a pretty accurate depiction of the way the world sees me. But you know what what they say, looks can be deceiving. I’m an unassuming 32 year old investment banker who lives alone in a gentrified townhouse in Clinton, New York City - more commonly known as Hell’s Kitchen. About a two months ago I found myself unexpectedly volunteered to host an office party. But my house was a mess; the little patio out back was overgrown with weeds, a giant new television still in its dusty box sat leaning against the living room wall (I was going to install it someday!), my basement - where I had been hoping to stash away the extra clutter from upstairs -- was itself a cluttered disaster. My kitchen cabinets were sanded but not painted (another half-started project)... you get the idea. The home of a man who worked too many hours to properly take care of it and had too few visitors to care either way.
That’s where Paul Russell comes in. Paul’s 28, so not much younger than me, but much more youthful both in appearance and attitude. He was a cute, friendly-looking white guy with shaggy brown hair that always hovered on the border between carefully-arranged and sloppy, a thin goatee and a toned, svelte body. At least what I could tell through his neatly pressed khakis and white polo shirt that he always wore.
I met Paul through TaskRabbit, initially to help with the cleaning but he was so efficient and friendly (to say nothing for the eye-candy he bought to the job) that one task turned into two, which turned into four. By the night of the party my house had been completely transformed! My television was hung, the basement was cleared, the patio was party-ready, the whole house had been cleaned and rearranged. He even talked me into letting him rebuild -- not just repaint -- my kitchen cabinets and countertops using the newly-cleared-out basement as his workshop.
Although Paul’s work was excellent, I couldn’t help but feel like he was using charm, and my obvious attraction to him, to hustle me into accepting work I probably wouldn’t have accepted otherwise. But I didn’t mind because even through his khakis there was an obvious bulge in his crotch that -- combined with his adorable face -- made my heart quicken. And there were times I swear he was stuffing a sock in his shorts as he sweet talked me into giving him yet another, increasingly lucrative task.
Eventually Paul was kind of a fixture in my house. We started talking about more than just the next project. He was articulate and friendly and sexually ambiguous enough to keep things interesting. I would, discreetly, drop hints like inviting him to spent the night if he found himself working until too late or ask him prying yet seemingly innocent questions like “Are you going to such-and-such festival with your girlfriend?”. But he never bit. I got so comfortable with Paul that I would routinely drop information about my upcoming weekend plans or work trips without thinking twice.
That leads us to last Monday. I was all packed to head to LaGuardia for a week-long conference when I got a call from my office telling me to hold tight in New York and work on some minor issue someone higher up had deemed was a crisis. Oh well, I thought, more time to enjoy my renovated home!
The next day at work I got a text from Paul, “How’s Chicago?”
“It’s fine, thanks.”
“Cool. Meet next week when you’re back to talk about chauffeured dining room ceilings?”
“Yes, see you when I get back.”
Obviously I was home the whole time, but thought it would be nice to give Paul a week off. Plus it freed up my house for other uninterrupted fun.
Which brings us to last Thursday night.
Victor, a hunky college student who I had been meeting up with since before I met Paul, stopped over. He was about Paul’s height but heavier, and more muscular with chocolate skin and an almost aloof manner that was in stark contrast to Paul. Victor was, for the most part, straight. I had only sucked his dick a couple of times and only once barely got a finger up his ass, but Victor had a secret desire the legion of coeds eager for a ride on his pole couldn’t satisfy. But I could.
Victor loved being tied and gagged and having his balls mercilessly pounded while I edged him, getting him close to blowing dozens of times. At the beginning of our sessions I would set some arbitrary time limit on when he could cum and if he blew his load before that, his balls were beaten extra severely. Sometimes I think he came early on purpose just to ensure his modest nuts were beaten to within an inch of their life. He’s often cum a second and even a third time while my mallets, fists and shoes squashed his dark chestnuts into paste.
This particular evening Victor has especially horned up and whispered “You wanna’ pop my nuts for real tonight?” into my ear softly as I tied him to a chair in my bedroom. My beatings usually involved castration threats - which always make Victor’s enormous cock twitch - but that night I felt like he was serious. As I tied him he went on and on about how he was graduating soon and leaving New York and wanted something (or rather a lack of something) to remember me with.
Meanwhile, it was just after dark and my street was fairly quiet. My neighbors on both side were away so, along with my darkened home, the block looked abandoned which is exactly the opportunity Paul needed. Paul, dressed in jeans and a tight white t-shirt that hugged his modest pecs, unlocked the door with his spare key and let himself in. I had, of course, gagged Victor so together with the fact that we were behind my solid bedroom door upstairs, must have muffled our activity from the cocky handyman as he made his way through my house with impunity. Various small electronics, valuable looking knick-knacks and even a bottle of expensive scotch disappeared inside his backpack. When he was done riffling through the downstairs, he boldly went up for the grand prize. My Armani neckties alone would fetch a nice price on eBay, to say nothing of the handgun I kept in my office in an unlocked drawer, my diamond cuff links and other goodies Paul had months to mentally catalog as he had been working on my house.
I rose my bonger above my head so that it would make a graceful arch as it sailed toward Victor’s nuts, which had been stretched out and placed on the seat of his chair. The handsome black stud was frankly begging through his gag, shaking his head no whilst his leaking cock betrayed its owner. I had just started my downswing when I heard a noise from the hallway.
Victor’s eyes watered and he looked like he might be sick as his nuts were compressed horribly flat. He steeled himself for another blow instead I motioned for him to be quiet as I made my way to the hall.
He sat bound to the chair for several tense moments before he heard an ‘Oomph’ and a brief struggle in the hallway.
I emerged, forcibly shoving Paul into the room. He was nursing a blackened eye (who said bongers were only good for crushing nuts!) and a torn shirt. I looked a little disheveled but it was clear Paul had gotten the brunt of the ass-whooping from our brief encounter.
“You fucking thief!” I roared as I threw Paul to the floor.
It was an authoritative tone that didn’t phase Victor but struck fear in Paul. I don’t know which was more of a surprise to Paul, my commanding presence that was a departure from the mild-mannered banker Paul had known me as, or the fact that I had just easily kicked his ass.
He chipped a tooth in the fall and screamed bloody murder but I didn’t care.
“Answer me, Paul!” I roared as I placed a foot on Paul’s back and pressed it hard toward the ground.
Paul, who had been trying to regain his footing, splayed onto the ground with a yelp.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just needed some quick cash, man. I...”
Not good enough, I concluded. I reached down, grabbed Paul by his bushy brown hair, and slammed his face into the hardwood floor dazing him.
While keeping one foot firmly on his back, I proceeded to untie a confused, but not particularly alarmed, Victor.
“So this is Paul,” Victor said, standing, his muscular frame towering over the scared young man.
“I guess he is pretty cute,”
I looked at Victor and the disgust must have been etched on my face because his coy smile melted away.
“I have given this fucker so much fucking money and he’s gonna’ steal from me?” I was incredulous.
In my rage, a thought occurred and a dastardly smiled plastered my face.
“Help me tie him up,”
Despite the groggy Paul’s weak protests, Victor and I were able to get him seated and tied with his arms behind his back with little effort. Hell, seeing Victor and Paul side by side, I was sude Victor could have handled the task whilst still tied up.
“Man, what the fuck! Let me go!” Paul struggled against his bonds but they were too tight.
His legs though were unrestrained and he was kicking and flailing too much for me to continue the rest of my plan. I went to a drawer and produced a leg spreader, the kind that attach at the ankles, and placed it on him. Paul became instantly panicked as he realized that his legs were now forced wide open in front of a guy who had already proven that he wasn’t as vanilla as he seemed.
“Holy fuck!” Trevor gasped gesturing toward Paul’s crotch, “You got two lemons in there or what?”
Paul seemed confused by the question.
Annoyed I stepped forward and rose the bonger to his face.
“He asked what do you have stuffed in here,”
I lowered the bonger down his chest, letting the heavy head rest on his balls.
“What the fuck!” Paul screamed.
I reared my arm back and sent the bonger sailing into Paul’s defenseless crotch flattened the bulge into his crotch. Paul had barely inhaled the air to scream before the bonger collided with his ample package again, and again, and again... and again. I wasn’t holding back, either. Even Victor winced in sympathy at the vicious blows as the bonger head flattened the especially pronounced lump in Paul’s jeans.
“Take off his pants!” I barked at Victor.
The naked black student quickly got to work tearing open Paul’s fly and pulling his jeans to his ankles. Paul’s package was now only protected -- and more importantly held firmly in place -- by a pair of blue Lycra underwear. The outline of each of Paul’ nuts was exquisitely detailed and, as I had suspected, they were quite large. Easily bigger than eggs. A pitiful third lump rounded out his package as his dick shriveled from the freight.
“Hey man, fuck you, faggot,”
Paul snorted, cocked his head back and sent a thick loogie flying into Victor’s face. I really don’t know what Paul thought he would accomplish by pissing off the one person in the room who wasn’t actively beating him, and my confusion must’ve been evident on my face.
Victor walked over to my dresser, fetched a washcloth and calmly wiping his his. Then -- moving with a speed I had never witnessed -- lurched across the room toward Paul. At first I thought he was going to tackle the defenceless brunette, but he stopped short, instead cramming the towel into Paul’s mouth. The whole thing happened so quickly that I didn’t at first realized what had happened. But the site of Paul, pants at his ankles, blackened eye and his mouth nearly ripped apart by a gag was satisfyingly hot to watch.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Victor said coolly as he dropped to his knees in front of Paul.
“Can I get some hits in?”
Paul’s eyes grew huge in terror even before the Victor had made a fist. Victor’s glistening musculature made his strength obvious. Paul pleaded as Victor balled up his fist. Paul could see the muscles in Victor’s arms and back rippling and knew that a punch from such a stud was nothing to be trifled with.
CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!
Victor’s knuckles smashed into Paul’s underwear without mercy. I rubbed a hand over my crotch and alternated my gaze from watching Victor annihilating Paul’s junk, to watching Paul’s face contort with each blow. His cute face looked exceptionally hot morphed by gut-filling ball pain and tears were streaming down his face.
“I’m gonna keep goin’ til’ I hit your pelvic bone... bloosh!”
Paul’s eyes widened in terror as Victor continued his assault. He was now alternating between fists in rapid fire mode as if experimenting to see which one elicited a more pained reaction from his captive. Meanwhile, I was standing behind Paul, reaching over his shoulders to grab his nipples. I know he could feel my raging cock through my slacks as it pressed against the back of his head, but my nipple twisting combined with Victor’s membrane-rupturing blows, were probably distracting him from caring about a guy’s hard cock on his head.
The sound of Victor’s punches echoed through the room and Paul’s nuts were getting so swollen they were starting to spill out from his underwear.
“Too big for your britches?”
Victor winked at Paul as he grabbed the underwear in both hands and ripped it off like it was made of tissue paper. I continued twisting and pulling on Paul’s nipples and through his cries I thought I detected a few autonomic moans.
Paul’s freed balls rolled forward, bright red from the beating, and swollen to the size of two small oranges. They were slightly oblong with a nice bit of hang. Truly beautiful, bustable nuts, but above them was a nub of a cock. It looked to be of a decent thickness but barely an inch flaccid.
“Maybe he’s a shower, not a grower?” I mused.
Victor nodded and proceeded to go down on Paul, delicately licking his balls, taint and cock while I proceeded to switch my viscious nipple tugging to gently rolling them between my fingers.
Despite himself, Paul let out a gasp when Victor’s talented tongue touched the head of his dick.
“Yeah, you like that, Paul?” I knelt so that I could whisper softly in his ear, making sure my hot breath touched his neck.
Paul’s body shivered.
“You like that black boy licking those big fat nuts?”
Paul looked down as Victor’s amazingly sculpted, sweaty body bobbed and flexed, showing off every muscle. I don’t know if Paul was genuinely turned on, if it was an uncontrollable automatic reaction or if he thought playing along with spare him more torture, but whatever it was seemed to be working.
Paul’s nipples became hard, his breathing quickened and he was unmistakably moaning into his gag. Victor was an expert and the expert oral service combined with the throbbing in his nuts was driving Paul wild.
After several minutes Victor looked up at me, breathless from being buried in Paul’s crotch.
“He isn’t getting any bigger,”
Paul’s cock was still only semi-erect and barely three inches long. It was a comical juxtaposition from his oversize nuts but maybe he still had room to grow. After all, I thought, he wasn’t even hard yet. Victor gently took both of Paul’s nuts into his mouth and sucked them. Paul looked down and caught a glimpse of Victor’s handsome face looking like he was imitating a chipmunk, his ebony cheeks bulging full of nuts. Paul gasped and his eyes crossed in pleasure.
While Victor was distracting Paul I went over to the dresser, fetched a bottle of poppers and gave it a shake as I made my way back over to Paul.
“You want something to make you feel good?”
Paul, who now seemed to really be getting into it, nodded ‘yes’. I put a finger against his left nostril to block it and at first Paul seemed frightened as I bought the bottle in.
“Deep breaths,” I instructed.
Paul inhaled deeply and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I switched nostrils and told him to repeat, which he eagerly did. As the poppers flooded his brain, Paul’s pleasure sensors went into overdrive and his cock twitched. I watched as his cock got slightly thicker and harder, but never gained length.
I knelt between his legs and grabbed his four-inch cock.
“It’s hard as a rock!”
“That’s as big as he gets? Man, talk about disproportionate,”
Victor laughed as he spat out Paul’s still-swollen nuts.
Myself and Victor stood over Paul soaking in the sight of the horny, tied up young man moaning as he trusted his hard dick into the air, desperate to fuck. He was leaking precum that was covering his big balls with a sticky sheen.
Victor was absentmindedly stroking his cock with both hands and Paul looked at it with a weird mix of disgust, admiration and jealousy. It was a thick, eleven-inch rod that would have looked perfectly proportioned with Paul’s massive nuts.
“What are you trying to fuck with that Pixie stick?” Victor scoffed looking down at Paul’s throbbing and eager mini-member.
“This is a real dick, son.” Victor walked up to Paul and looked into his eyes as he proceeded to playfully slap Paul in the face with his dick.
Paul, surprisingly, seemed even more turned on. I gave him another hit from the poppers bottle and his cock twitched and shot precum; so much that at first Victor and I thought the handy man had nutted.
“You’re so horny, aren’t you, Paul?” I asked sensually into his ear.
“You wanna’ nut, don’t you?”
My breath on his neck must’ve been a trigger because Paul shook his head yes frantically as his adorable face was glazed by Victor’s own precum. Paul moaned and his eyes rolled into his head, I motioned toward the bonger, then down at Paul’s lap and Victor winked.
“Well, you’ve been a bad boy. And bad boys need to be punished.”
The words had barely registered with the ridiculously horny Paul when Victor pounded the bonger into his bare balls. The instrument landed with a wet snap and instantly bought Paul out of his cloud of ecstasy.
“Did you think you would get off that easy? Pun intended.” I growled going back to viciously twisting and tugging his nipples.
Paul’s balls bounced and jiggled with each impact but they were so big there was no way Victor could miss.
Paul looked beggingly at Victor, the same guy who had just moments ago taken him to the brink of an orgasm was now trying to permanently shut down his plumbing.
“It looks like tiny dick here likes it!”
Despite the fact Victor was wrecking his nuts, Paul’s cock not only stayed hard but it continued to pump out precum.
“How do you think he even has sex?” I asked “His nuts are so damn big seems like he’d only be able to get the tip in with such a small prick.”
Victor laughed as he continued to pound Paul’s nuts, though he had settled on a faster though less violent rhythm. The relatively light bobbling must’ve gotten Paul back to his happy place because his muffled screams again turned to moans.
“Oh shit, he really does like it,”
I took a break from my nipple duties to step around to the front of him. Paul’s head was cocked back and he was moaning as if he was getting the best blowjob of his young life, only he wasn’t. His balls were being methodically pounded with a rubber mallet.
“You like it when I’m cracking your nuts, Tiny Tim?” Victor sneered.
Paul nodded yes.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Victor had lessened the intensity of each hit to a moderate bobbling, enough to make Paul’s hefty nuts giggle but not enough to be painful. It was far cry from the rupture-inducing blows he had been inflicting earlier and Paul seemed to be loving it. Without thinking I knelt down and took just the tip of Paul’s cock into my mouth. It was a dream come true, though I had never exactly envisioned the dream playing out quite like this.
My mouth was filling with his salty precum as Victor proceeded to slowly increase the intensity of his blows.
“Mine’s what? Three times bigger than yours?” Victor asked Paul as he stroked his dick with one hand and swung the bonger with the other.
Paul was so lost in ecstasy from my sucking and Victor’s hitting that Victor was able to gradually increase the force of the blows until they were back up to the level that had earlier been causing Paul to scream. Only now he was moaning and thrusting his hips. Paul’s huge nuts flopped everywhere as the bonger flattened and beat them.
“That’s right, you small dicked motherfucker. You gonna’ cum all over his face?”
CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
Paul nodded yes as he looked down at my lips wrapped over his cock. It was incredibly hard and would have probably made an awesome fuck if it wasn’t so freakishly short.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
Paul winced as Victor stepped up the power of his blows but that only made Victor and I hotter and Paul’s cock squirt even more precum. I felt like my stomach was getting full. And that’s when I had a sick thought.
“Seems like the harder you hit him the harder he gets.”
“Oh yeah,” Victor moaned putting down the bonger so that he could concentrate both hands on stroking his pole.
“Look at his cock!” I barked at Paul.
“Don’t you wish you had one that big? You fuckin’ freak. What do you even do with this tiny thing?”
I roughly grabbed Paul’s cock and squeezed causing his eyes to cross and the near ceaseless flow of precum to temporarily stop. Victor, meanwhile, was losing himself to his growing orgasm as he watched he pulling and squeezing Paul’s comically small cock. Paul screamed into his gag, again snapped back into the world of pure pain, and his face turned red.
“Oh fuckin’ hot. Rip his dick off!” Victor said breathlessly as his hands became a blur stroking up and down his length shaft.
“Rip it off!”
Paul’s cock twitched in my grip.
“I think he likes thar!”
“Oh yeah! Twist it! Twist it off!”
Paul’s eyes grew huge and he arched his back in a desperate attempt to bring his pelvis forward. I was pulling his small pole to its breaking point and the pain was becoming unbearable. I gave it a final wicked twist and let it go. To our surprise, his member stayed rock hard despite being a nasty shade of purple and tears streaming down his face.
“Oh hot, oh fuck!”
The site of this hapless, cute white guy having his junk trashed and actually liking it was too much for Victor. He screamed girlishly as he shot just inches from Paul’s face. The mess was unbelievable! Every square millimeter of skin was drenched, ropes dangled from his nose and his eyes were plastered shut. Another shot landed on Paul’s chest and another his belly. Paul moaned as another three squirts hit his boyish face. The handsome lad was barely recognizable under all the spooge.
Paul’s hips bucked wildly into the air. He wanted to cum. No he, needed to cum. I swooped down and used a handful of Victor’s cum as a lubricant, stroking Paul furiously and backing off just when I knew he couldn’t take any more. As Victor knelt recovering from his powerful orgasm, I teased and edged Paul for nearly an hour.
Victor, who had gotten hard again, stroked his cock in front of Paul’s hormone-glazed eyes and made all manner of disparaging remarks about Paul’s less than impressive member.
I had gotten Paul so worked up and horny he was crying in near agony, begging to cum. He could feel an epic loud rolling in his overstuffed nuts, the same nuts I was squeezing mercilessly between stroking sessions.
“You wanna cum?”
Paul looked especially hot shaking his head yes as Victor’s copious load dried on his face. Cruelly I forced Paul to take a few long draws of poppers as I teased the head of his cock and Victor worked over his nipples with his tongue.
Paul was desperate to cum, pleading. I couldn’t help but rip the gag from his mouth so I could hear his very familiar voice screaming something very unfamiliar.
“Please God, let me cum!”
Paul looked frantic.
I had barely touched his cock with the back of my hand; just enough for him to feel but not enough to get him over the edge. He bucked his hips, fucking the air, desperate for any stimulation. He was one lick away from blowing what I bet was going to be a huge, gushing load. I had never wanted Paul more than I wanted him in that moment. I wanted to untie him, throw him on the bed and fuck his adorable brains out. I wanted my own load dripping off his face... then I remembered how we had got to this point; me catching him in my hallway with a bag full of my stolen property.
“So you really wanna’ cum, do ya’ bitch?”
I untied him from the chair and barked at him to stand and before he could try anything smart, I tired his arms behind his back. I instructed Victor to grab a blindfold from the dresser and put it on Paul.
Sensing Victor’s confusion I winked at him and said “Remember what you asked me to do earlier? What if we did it to him instead?”
Victor’s face broke into a broad grin but of course Paul was oblivious.
The trek to the basement took longer than normal since Paul could barely walk with this ankles still in the spreader, plus he winced in pain every time his heavy nuts brushed against his thigh too hard.
“What? What’s going on?” Paul asked, still turned on becoming slightly frightened. He could tell he was in the basement but couldn’t see anything around him.
There was the sound of something being dragged across the floor and someone fumbling with something metal but the cacophony didn’t make any sense.
“You ready to cum?”
I gave Paul a peck on the neck, then proceeded to lick and nibble, slowly working my way toward his face. To my surprise I was met halfway and the blindfolded handyman locked lips with me. He was moaning and crying.
“Please get me off, man. My balls are blue! They hurt!”
I broke off the kiss and stood behind Paul, reached around for his cock with stroked it teasingly with broken, half-hearted strokes that were just barely short of making Paul erupt. I had never teased and edged Victor as ruthlessly as I had done Paul.
“You wanna’ cum?”
“Yes, God yes!”
Paul could hear a strange clanging of metal. It was familiar but with no visual reference and a raging dick distracting his perception, he couldn’t figure out the sound. What Paul couldn’t see was that we had positioned him over his own work bench and his fat nuts were now dangling in the jaws of a workshop vice. The clanging was Victor turning the screw until.
“Ahh,” Paul gasped as he felt the cold metal touch the sides of his sack.
I ripped off the blindfold and breathed on Paul’s neck, the sensation briefly distracting him from the sound of clanging metal. He looked down and instantly began to scream at the site of his sack in the vice. While he had been kissing Victor took the extra precaution of tying Paul’s ankle restraints to the legs of the workbench, keeping him in place, and Paul’s struggles were no match for my strength which no doubt was shocking to him as he struggled to get free.
“What the... Please! Don’t!”
Victor tightened the heavy metal plates around Paul’s enormous, swollen nuts until they were half their girth, compressed into a purple meat patty.
“Please! Please don’t! Ple... Gaaah!”
Victor resumed tightening the vice, crushing Paul’s nuts. Paul could feel his big testicles pressing into each other as they flattened out from round orbs to man-meat patties.
“You gonna’ come for me, stud?”
I gave his dick a half stroke as Victor tightened the vice.
“Gaaaah! I’ll cum! I’ll cum! Please sto -- Oooooh!”
Victor was in heaven as he watched his ultimate ball busting fantasy coming true. He eyed Paul’s failing nuts carefully, being sure to capture a clear mental imagine of such huge nuts being pushed to their limit. Paul’s nuts had flattened out and were filling the plates, some of his scrotum actually bulging outside the plates.
“Cum for me,” I whispered.
Paul was fixated on his trapped nuts. Hey were so flat he didn't know how they hadn’t already been crushed totally flat. He pleaded for Victor to stop as he slowly tightened the vice, only this time not stopping. Victor had a front row seat of Paul’s flattening, purple balls and knew something might break at any minute.
“Please!” Paul screamed before the pain from his nuts overtook him and he fell into unintelligible babble.
“Maybe that’s tight enough,” I nodded toward Victor.
He handsome student shrugged reluctantly and began to loosen the vice. Paul’s fat sack started to plump back into shape, but the sudden rush of blood was agonizing to poor Paul.
“Cum for me, now!”
“Cum for me, now!”
“Tighten and don’t stop till he cums.”
Victor grinned and proceeded to re-tighten the vice. Paul screamed. His balls flattened. His cock twitched. Flatter and flatter...
“Cum!” I was stroking his small cock furiously and could feel it stiffen as his tortured load bubbled up.
Paul screamed in a combination of orgasmic bliss and unimaginable pain as rope after rope of jizz shot from his cock at the same moment as his nuts burst in his sack. The mounting pressure just got to be too much for them, the membranes gave way and his balls split open like a bug. Victor continued to close the vice, crushing Paul’s balls beyond recognition except for the still-plump sections that were bulging from the side of the vice.
Paul looked down at his destroyed nuts, looked at Victor, looked at me, looked at his still shooting dick. His eyes crossed, his face went limp -- it was just too much sensory data to process - but before he passed out he looked at me with those gorgeous brown eyes of his and gasped...