Now where was he?
Mark strained to move his arms again but they were securely anchored to something, though his head was too fogged to even correctly figure out what position he was in. Mark’s six foot ten, muscular jock frame was hanging on a large ‘X’ formed by two crossing wooden beams. His arms made up the top half of the X and his legs were spread to make out the other. The restraints were tight, he slowly realized, making it difficult for him to make all but the slightest movement All attempts to close his widely spread legs even a little proved futile. What in the world was happening?
“Ah, you’re awake, ” came a strangely high pitch voice from the darkness.
Mark strained his eyes in the direction of the voice but saw nothing…
“Ahh!” Mark let out a blood curdling screamed as a tall, hideous gray alien approached. It’s face was pale gray and its eyes were large, almond shaped murky black holes.
Mark struggled wildly against his constraints, still not entirely sure what was happening, but unable to move.
As the alien approached, Mark could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He screamed wildly — out of a mix of confusion and fear — and felt like he was going to puke. As the alien got closer, Mark stopped screaming long enough to give another hard squint.
His vision was getting less cloudy and now, thanks to a dim light that was now shining from above, he could make out that the ‘alien’ was just a tall person wearing all black clothing and an alien mask. The mask wasn’t even that convincing, but in his mind’s confused state he honestly believed he had been abducted. Had he been drugged?
His mind strained to remember the last few moments at the gym. He had just entered the shower when he heard someone approaching, he turned and something — a cloth perhaps? — was shoved into his face. There was a putrid, stinging odor then blackness. And now he was here, strung up in this incredibly vulnerable X shape. How much time had passed?
Mark’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark surroundings as the alien-clad abductor simply stood in front of him, standing less three feet away now, the lifeless eyes of the mask seemed to be eyeing him quizzically. The light shining down from above was either getting brighter or Mark’s eyes were just getting more adjusted, he couldn’t tell for certain… no, it was getting brighter. Within moments, Mark was completely bathed in an almost blinding white spot light. He squinted his eyes, which stung from the glare.
The ‘alien’ took a few steps forward so that it was an arm’s length from Mark, then reached out a gloved hand and rubbed up and down Mark’s washboard stomach. Mark’s chest was heaving from fear. It was the first time he realized that he was completely nude, his muscles were glistening from sweat as the heat from the now oppressively bright overhead spotlight was overwhelming.
“What, what… What,” Mark was still too groggy to form a complete sentence.
The alien stopped gently stroking Mark’s stomach and took a step back. Then multiple things happened at once. The overhead light turned off, replaced by two blaring floor lights shining from almost directly in front of him. Mark grimaced and tried to turn his head away from the blinding lights. At the same time he could feel his legs being spread even further apart — the bottom half of the ‘X’ was moving! Mark screamed in agony as his loins were painfully stretched. He could hear a faint grinding sound, presumably the gears controlling the restraints, as his legs were stretched further and further apart. Being a runner, Mark’s leg muscles were well stretched but this was…
“Aaah! Oh God!” Mark screamed. It felt as if he was going to be split in half.
His powerful legs were now opened at an extreme angle, just shy of doing the splits. He could feel the tendons and muscles in his groin at their tearing point. He knew if this kept happening he was going to be injured…
“Please! Please!” Mark said meekly, by this point sobbing. The gears stopped.
“Ah, that’s better,” came the strange voice of the alien figure.
He approached the bound stud and reached out his glove again. He cupped Mark’s nuts, which now — thanks to the excessive leg spreading — were dangling obscenely. Marks’ sack hung eight inches from his spread legs, his golf-ball sized nuts resting lazily at the bottom of his bag. Mark had always been consciously aware of the huge bulge his over sized gonads made in his shorts and went to great lengths to wear loose fitting clothes to mask it. But now here they were, purposefully on full display, swaying vulnerably below his legs.
Mark looked down as his balls rested in the palm of his captor.
“I am Ghost,” said the man in the alien mask, his voice no longer disguised.
Mark couldn't identify it, but the man’s voice sounded rough and graveled and oddly amused.
“And you are on the Ghost Network,” the man declared and the flood lights flashed off and one several times as if setting up the scene for some deranged game show.
The Ghost Network? Why did that sound so familiar…? Mark’s head, though clearing, was still swimming from whatever mischief was used to get him here in the first place.
Suddenly, in the blackness between the flood lights, Mark could see a computer monitor light up. The text was too small for him to make out from that distance, but it seemed like it was displaying lines of code, like HTML or something. Had the monitor been there the whole time, obscured by the darkness? Or had someone wheeled it in during the confusing flashing light show? Mark was too groggy to make it out… but what was the Ghost Network? He wracked his brain trying to remember where he had heard that before…
Mark strained his eyes intently, trying to make out the writing on the monitor and Ghost seemed to be watching Mark intently, still cupping his balls. After several minutes, or at least it seemed to be several minutes, the code on the screen stopped flashing and two columns of numbers appeared. The text was slightly larger, just large enough for Mark to make out that the screen was full of… full of I.P addresses? What was going on?
“That is the Ghost Network, one hundred very special people who get to watch a very special show twice a year. And you’re the star,” Ghost said giving Mark’s nuts a light squeeze.
The look of confusion on Mark’s face must have been apparent because Ghost, still in his alien masked, looked as him and laughed. Was this some kind of forced sex show? Mark was, after all, exceptionally handsome, athletic and hung.
“Are you going to rape me?” Mark’s voice was shaking.
“No, this isn’t a sex show. Not really,” said Ghost, letting go of Mark’s swinging ball bag.
Suddenly a flashing red light appeared above the computer monitor. Was he being recorded?
“No, twice a year I, Ghost, pluck the ripest, horniest, most perfect male specimen I can find and show them off, live over the internet, to my fans. And shall I say you are a perfect male specimen.”
Ghost again ran his hand over Mark’s muscular stomach, causing the muscles to tense making the definition even more pronounced.
Ghost took a step back, looked Mark up and down, and then without warning began throwing punches into Mark’s stomach. He struck, alternating fists, blow after blow. Mark, taken off guard, was knocked breathless, his stomach muscles flexing and tensing under the assault.
“Aaah!” Mark screamed, his upper body convulsing in pain. The jerking did nothing to loosen his restraints, but it did cause the muscles in his pecs and arms to bulge with effort.
“Mmm, perfect,” said Ghost after nearly two minutes of back to back blows, stepping back and reaching for Mark’s bicep.
“How beautiful, wouldn’t you agree,” he said toward the camera.
Mark was panting, his stomach was a beet red, and the washboard definition was on full display as his injured muscled tensed to protect themselves. He felt like he was going to throw up. He had never even been in a fight, so was particularly unprepared for this. In addition, although Ghost was tall and appeared lanky under his tight fitting clothing, he delivered unexpectedly powerful punches as if he were a professional boxer.
Ghost stood back and gave the trapped stud a few minutes to catch his breath. Just when the reddening of his stomach had started to go down, Ghost took up a boxing stance in front of the totally defenseless Mark and raised his fists.“Please, no. Please…”
THUD! THUD! THUD!
This time the blows focused on Mark’s sculpted upper chest. Mark screamed as his pecs were assaulted in blow after devastating blow. Ghost laughed maniacally as Mark’s pectoral muscles flexed and jumped.
“Please…”
Ghost stopped briefly and turned to the camera.
“You hear that, Ghost Network? He said please, please hit me harder,”
Ghost fumbled for something in his pocket and appeared to be doing something with his hands. Mark couldn’t make it out… but why was Ghost Network so vaguely familiar?
Mark’s brain, which could barely keep track of the last few minutes, was still trying to recall where he had heard the phrase ‘Ghost Network’, when Ghost turned to him again, holding up his fists. Mark screamed and began to thrash violently against the unyielding restraints. His huge nuts bounced and jiggled from the effort, but his arm and legs stayed locked in place.
“Please, no don’t.”
Ghost had outfitted his right hand with a pair of brass knuckles, worn over his glove. He took a few steps toward Mark, who was panting and begging, then renewed his assault on Mark’s beautiful upper body. Chest, stomach, chest, stomach. Right, left, right, left. Mark’s empty stomach wretched from pain after five minutes of this. The brass knuckles were leaving behind huge red welts, and were absolutely destroying Mark’s muscles. Mark thrashed and was covered with sweat, his mind too pain wracked to…
“OH GOD!” Mark had suddenly remembered where he had heard of the ‘Ghost Network’ and the revelation was so icy that — for a brief moment — his mind was divorced from the pain of the intense beating. He had heard urban legends reference a ‘Ghost Network’, sick bastards who used every computer hacking trick in the book to watch a perverted snuff film made live without being detected. He vaguely recalled reading something about it in a newspaper, which gave the whole story an air of legitimacy, but the whole idea of hundreds of people watching someone get murdered online and getting away with it just smacked of a ridiculous conspiracy theory. But maybe it wasn't…
Ghost laughed and stopped pelting the young man’s body. He stepped away to give the watching audience a good view. Mark’s body was glistening with sweat, bluish black bruises were starting to pot mark his entire torso, blood trickled from small cuts. But despite it all, his muscular definition made it undefinable that Mark had a beautiful body. He was breathing heavily, and erratically. Had Ghost broken something? It stung to breath…
“Isn’t he pretty,” Ghost said, his inflection dropping as if actually asking a live audience a question.
Mark thought about spitting on the man’s face but wanted to do everything he could to cooperate. He hadn't seen the man’s face. He didn't even know where he was. He couldn’t — and wouldn’t — tell the police. If he behaved, maybe Ghost would just have his fun with him and let him go. Maybe he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t..
Mark began sobbing.
“Please, please don’t kill me. Let me go, I won’t tell anyone," Mark begged, looking into the eyes of the alien mask pleadingly.
Ghost shrugged his shoulders and approached.
“Ah, dry those tears…"
WHAM! WHAM!
In rapid succession Ghost’s fist collided with both of Mark’s eyes, almost instantly blackening them
.
“Now, where were we, ah yeah, the fun part,”
Ghost against took up his boxer stance, only this time bending slightly at the knee to lower his overall stance. Mark looked down and gasped in horror; Ghost was lining himself up to use his huge hanging nuts like a punching bag.
“Three…. two…” Ghost counted down mockingly.
“No, no!” Mark was going crazy attempting to get down, which only made his balls bounce more invitingly.
“One!”
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
“Ooooh!” Mark’s mouth curled into a large ‘O’ and his head rolled in pain.
Ghost was laying rapid fire hits to Mark’s scrotum so hard that the ball sack was bouncing like a loose punching bag. WHACK! WHACK! Ghost was clearly trying to do real damage to Mark’s manhood, and from the look of his swelling sack he was succeeding. After a minute of non stop blows, Ghost stoop back to give his audience a clear view. The bag was now bright bed, bluish bruises were appearing and each testicle was swollen to he size of eggs, stretching the skin of the sack taught as they rested defenseless at the bottom.
Mark dry heaved.
Ghost again took his stance, only this time positioning one fist on either side of the sack.“Mmm, this is gonna’ be fun…”
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Ghost’s powerful fists pounded together, crushing the nuts between them more and more with each blow. Each time the room was filled with a devastating, loud and wet ’splat’ as Mark knew his nuts were literally being cracked.
“OH CHRIST! STOP! PLEASE!”
SPLAT! SPLAT!
“You guys should feel this… his balls are getting so soft…”
SPLAT! SPLAT!… POP!
This went on for more than ten minutes. By the end of it, it was apparent that his right testicle had ruptured. The sack on that side was lumpy, as if a third ball had been stuffed into the sack, when in actuality his ball had split open. The left nut had fared only slightly better, but was ridiculously swollen, hanging much lower in the sack then the right and bluish black. Mark was screaming and writhing in agony, his powerful biceps and legs useless to help him. The pain was literally beyond his comprehension; his crotch just felt numb.
“Ah, I think I broke one.” Ghost said, his alien mask just inches from Mark’s face. Mark couldn’t believe the pleasure that was apparent in Ghost’s voice as he spoke the words “I think I broke one.”
“My… balls… ” Mark said before passing out.
–
“Wakey, wakey!” Ghost said wafting smelling salts under Mark’s nose “you don’t want to miss our next trick. I call it the bicep crush.”
Mark was thrust back into reality, his short reprieve from the nightmare shattered.“Please… don’t… don’t hurt me no more…” Mark was barely conscious and didn’t notice that Ghost had placed a trigger activated clamp over his bulging right bicep.
“Look at this boys and girls,” Ghost began pumping the trigger, slowly crushing the enormous muscle trapped between it.
“Aaaa!” Mark screamed and his right hand began to involuntarily twitch as he felt his muscle being destroyed.
“Oh yeah, this is really gonna hurt when it’s totally closed. Wonder how long this big muscle can…”
Ghost abruptly stopped working the vice, by now Mark’s right bicep was crushed to half its normal size and his entire arm was turning bright red. Ghost released the clamp, which fell to the ground with a clang and went to the computer. Mark screamed as blood rushed into his arm, which was nearly crushed, but was relieved that he could at least still move his hand.
“Damn INTERPOL. Seriously?” Ghost spat, typing something into a keyboard.
Mark noticed that the list of I.P addresses was starting to lose entries, one by one. Had someone found out? Maybe he’d be safe!
After typing on the keys frantically for a few minutes, Ghost jumped in front of the camera and shouted “Someone uninvited is trying to watch our show and we can’t have that, so — I’m sorry — but I have to get to the finale now.”
Mark realized that Ghost was holding two objects in his hands, but couldn’t’ tell what they were.
“You’ll notice a countdown timer on your screens. Thanks to our friends at INTERPOL, unfortunately, when it counts to zero we’ll need to end the connection. But don’t worry, the next show will be double the fun to make up for it!’ Ghost took a bow and turned toward Mark.
Mark could make out on the screen that a large timer was now counting down from ten minutes. More I.P addresses were disappearing from the list as spooked sickos disconnected from the Ghost Network. Meanwhile, Ghost fiddled with the object in his right hand, it looked like a foot long metal rod, with apparently no markings or buttons, but it was making an odd humming.
Without a word, Ghost Approached Mark, then walked behind him. And for a moment nothing happened.
9:30… 9:29… 9:28….
BUZZ!
“OOOH! OOOOH!” Ghost rammed the rod into Mark’s exposed ass. It was vibrating and giving off an odd tingly sensation that was immediately stimulating this prostate.
“Oooh! Aaah!”
Ghost slowly pumped the vibrating, electric pole in and out of Mark’s tight virgin ass, being sure to stop when it was inserted just to the point of touching his prostate to give it extra time to vibrate and tingle.
Despite the gravity of the situation, and the throbbing pain radiating from his totally crushed right nut, the anal stimulation was getting Mark’s cock hard. He looked down with muted fascination as his eight inch cock ,now rock hard and dripping precum literally throbbed from the expert prostate stimulation.
“OOhh! Aaa! Oh yea!” Mark couldn’t believe it. Waves of profound pleasure were now washing over him, mixing with — and not at all masking — his pain. It was a bizarre combination.
“Ah, there we go,” said Ghost withdrawing the rod.
He then circled around to Mark’s front and began prodding his throbbing, thick penis with the electric rod. Mark’s cock responded immediately, precum started dripping even faster and his cock twitched. The stimulation felt amazing. It was enough electricity to be tingly, but didn’t hurt, and the vibration felt wonderful…
“Ooo!” Mark was struggling against the constraints, riveted with fear and wracked with pain but unable to control his body’s response to the penis stimulation
“Guys and gals at home, I wish you could see this. This guy has an amazing cock. It’s huge,” said Ghost as he continued to run his stimulation wand up and down the length of Mark’s cock.
Ghost wasn’t exaggerating. At nine inches long and incredibly thick, Marks’ donkey sized cock was truly enormous. It was smooth except a few small veins trailing its length up to his bell shaped head. Combined with his mega sized testicles, Mark’s sexual package could have competed against any porn star.
Mark was now moaning in indescribable pleasure as he felt the load building in his nuts. It was a painful boiling, as his right nut was still swelling, but he couldn’t’ hold back.
“Ooooh!”
“Yeah, that’s it…” Ghost removed the wand just long enough to walk around and reinsert it into Mark’s ravaged hole. Only this time he left it there, vibrating and tingling the young stud’s prostate while he walked back around to the front.
Without even touching him, Ghost was driving the trapped jock crazy with sexual pleasure. Mark’s muscles tensed, his chest heaved and his head was rolling in pleasure — and agony. He could feel his load building.
“This is it kids…” Ghost said, glancing at the count down timer.
1:00… 00:59… 00:58…
It was at this point that Ghost revealed what he’d been keeping to his side in his other hand. It was a pair of long handled garden sheers. He set them down under Mark, then cracked his knuckles.
Mark’s eyes grew wide with fear. What was Ghost going to do?
Ghost grabbed Mark’s last whole ball in both hands and squeezed as hard as he could. Ghost was literally grunting in effort as he tried to destroy Mark with his bare hand.
Mark gasped and his body shuddered. His left nut became his entire world. He could feel Ghost’s fingers digging into the precious ball meat, crushing the membranes….
“Oh fucking yea! This guy’s nut is about to pop! I wish you could feel this. It’s so squishy, it’s getting so soft…”Ghost kept squeezing while the vibrator kept pleasuring. Mark’s brain was so awash with conflicting sensations he could feel himself literally shutting down from the overload. Not to mention he could feel a powerful orgasm building.
“Oh yea! This things gonna’… it’s gonna…”
SQUISH!
Ghost’s effort paid off. Mark’s abused, softened nut exploded in Ghost’s clutched hands. There was a sickening, sploshy noise as the swollen ball caved in. Mark wailed in indescribable pain; the sensation of having a nut literally crushed to pieces was too much for him and he passed out.
“Aww, he’s going to miss the finale,”
00:20…00:19…
The timer counted down and despite the fact that its owner had passed out, Marks’ monster cock had a mind of its own. It was still twitching. The orgasm was close. The enormous organ twitched up and down so hard that precum sprayed and the ball sack, now holding nothing but crushed nuts, bobbed up and down.
00:15…00:14…
“Come on, cum,” Ghost said as if egging Mark’s penis on.
He then picked back up the sheers and opened the jaws so that they encircled the top of the hanging ball bag.
00:10…00:09…
Mark’s cock gave one final jerk and, just as a jet of pinkish red jism flew out, Ghost closed the sheers shut severing the ruined balls completely from his body. They landed with a wet SPLAT on the floor as Mark’s orphaned and still huge cock shot rope after rope of whitish, then pinkish, then finally red cum. When the cock stopped spewing, it remained hard, though was quickly deflating. Mark’s handsome body twitched involuntarily and a slight moan escaped his lips.
00:05… 00:04…
Ghost realizing he was out of time, lifted his booted foot and began mercilessly pulping Mark’s nuts.
“See you next time kids!”
Ball splatter was flying up as if Ghost was crushing giant grapes to make wine.
00:02…00:01
...STATUS 410 - GONE
The story continues... here
It’s good but next time make “ghost” a female
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