Broken Barista

Cling Clang!

Joel rolled his eyes at the sound of the jangling door bells that let him know a customer had just entered the coffee shop.  He had his back turned to the door and glanced up briefly to the wall clock. It was 1:58 AM, two minutes to closing time. It had been a slow night so he’d already cleaned up the equipment, stacked the dining room chairs and put all the ingredients neatly back in their containers… now some drunk college student was going to force him to undo everything for a single cup of coffee.  Nonetheless, Joel gritted his teeth, ran a hand through his thick black hair, faked a smile and turned to face the customer.

“Welcome to Insomnia Bean, I’m Joel. What can I do ya’ for,”  the pleasantry sounded sincere to all but the most discerning listener.

The customer was a blonde gentleman, possibly in his early thirties, about Joel’s height, but noticeably huskier. He was wearing a pressed white shirt — that was straining against the man’s muscles — and a bold red tie, much better dressed than the typical college kids who came into the shop so late at night, and was carrying a briefcase.  He smiled warmly at the young barista as he approached the counter, ostensibly studying the menu board.

Several moments passed, Joel’s feigned smile starting to wear as the clock ticked without any decision from the blonde man.

“I’m sorry, I can’t decide what to get,” the man said finally a little after 2 A.M. His voice was calm, but incredibly deep and gravely.

“If you’ll excuse me,”  Joel ducked from behind the counter and made his way to the door. He locked it, trying to spare himself from any more last minute indecisive customers. 

“I’m sorry, are you closed?”  the blonde man asked as Joel returned to his spot behind the counter.

“Yeah, we closed at two, but you’re okay.  What can I get for ya’, sir?” his friendly tone covered his frustration.

“I think I’ll take… um.  What is that?” The blonde asked pointing toward one of the glossy posters of coffee drinks on the wall behind Joel.

Joel turned his head to look to see which poster the man was pointing at, and was turning back to respond when he heard a deafening crack, then fell to the floor.  While Joel’s head had been turned the blonde had swung his brief case and knocked Joel on the side of his face.  It clearly was full of something heavier than papers as it struck with such force that it snapped the young man’s head clearly to the other side and sent him sailing to the ground.

Joel was too stunned to get up immediately as the man, demonstrating amazing dexterity for such a large frame, leaped over the counter and stood over Joel.  Joel rolled onto his back and looked at the blonde pleadingly.

“Please, please take the money…” Joel begged, scooting away from the hulking figure above him.

“Don’t want it!” the man responded, his voice still calm, as he lifted his foot. 

Joel looked toward his wide spread legs and instantly knew what the man was about to do.

“No! No!” 

STOMP

The blonde man’s large, black square toed shoe slammed into the mound in Joel’s khaki’s with a sickening crunch.  Joel let out a howl of pain and he reached to cup his injured package, only to realize the man’s foot was still on them, pressing and grinding as if he were trying to put out a spent cigar.

“Please! Ooh!”  Joel struggled to pull the massive foot off his crotch to no avail. 

The blonde only grunted in effort, bracing himself against the wall with his arm as his continued to grind Joel’s flattening gonads into the floor. Joel was in hysterics, pleading for the man to stop, which only seemed to make the blonde for determined to snuff out the college stud’s sex life.

After several minutes of brutal grinding, Joel’s scrams and howls must have been irritating the blonde, who stepped off just long enough to deliver a devastating kick to the side of Joel’s face that sent the now unconscious young man sailing into the wall.

When Joel awoke some minutes later, a hideous bruise was spreading across his olive skinned face. The blonde had lifted the smaller Joel to his feet and was holding him up, pinning him between the counter and his own massive chest with a bear hug.

“Please! Please…. what do you want from me!” Joel begged, tears streaming down his face, “Please don’t rape me!”

The blonde’s crotch, the outline of a massive erection visible through the slacks, was pressed against Joel’s straight virgin ass,

The blonde scoffed at the boy’s pleas and without a word tightened his grip with his right arm, causing Joel to gasp for air as his chest was painfully compressed.  The blonde tentatively loosened his left arm’s grip on Joel, and when Joel’s struggling were still insufficient to get away, he released his arm completely and proceeded to grab the waistband of Joel’s pants. With a quick tug, the pants were down to his thighs, the zipper and buttons popping off in the process.  The blonde’s eight inch cock was now only separated from Joel’s ass by a think piece of fabric on his slacks. 

“Please! Don’t!”  Joel pleased, just knowing his tight ass was about to get plowed.

But the blonde wasn’t interested in Joel’s vulnerable hole. Instead his free hand cradled the now totally exposed, dangling nuts between his legs.   They were big, each slightly smaller than a hen’s egg and firm, no doubt due in part from swelling from the earlier assault. They hung several inches, making them easy to grab from behind. A day’s worth of sweat and the hint of coffee bean created an interesting smell from Joel’s crotch that the blonde seemed to be enjoying.

Joel felt his big, heavy nuts resting in the man’s hands and panicked. He knew the beefy stud could easily pulverize his most prized possessions with a few good squeezes.

“Please! Not my balls! Take it all, take all the money, everything you want… AAAH!”

Joel’s begging was abruptly interrupted by the sensation of feeling his testicles being compressed together in their sack.  The blonde’s biceps flexed in effort as his large hand crushed Joel’s nuts.  Joel howled and struggled, but was unable to escape the man’s brutally effective grip. In fact, the more he struggled, the harder the man’s arm tightened until even breathing became labored.
The blonde pulled Joel’s testicles to their limit, while still squeezing mercilessly, and gave them a vicious twist.  Joel howled, the blonde’s hand only getting tighter around his balls. Joel could feel his testes crushing into each other as the man twisted and pulled.. How much more of this could they take?

Suddenly, the man released Joel’s gonads and, with a swift motion, knocked him to the ground with a violent shove.  The back of Joel’s skull bounced with a sickening clunk against the tiled floor.  Joel was dazed, too wracked with pain and fear to move for several seconds, which was all the time the man needed as he lumbered toward him.

Joel attempted to stand, but with his pants still wrapped around his legs he only succeeded in flopping back onto this back, leaving his genitals exposed.

“Pl– please!” Joel’s mind was fogged with hysteria.

The man ignored him and knelt over Joel, his fist balled tightly…

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

“Oh God! Oh!” Joel screamed and writhed as the man’s large fist pounded his proud balls into the ground. The blonde could feel the delicate ball meat compressing and crunching to the floor, getting slightly less resilient with each blow, but every time the now rapidly swelling nuts returned to their original, oblong shape.  After at least fifteen blows — neither of them was keeping track at that point — the blond grabbed hold of Joel’s extremely swollen right nut and squeezed. Joel’s eyes bulged and he let out and inhuman squeal, then his body went limp.

Still holding the trapped nut, the man rose to his feel, taking Joel with him, the barista’s entire one hundred and sixty pound body being held up only by his dangerously battered right nut.  The man held Joel’s limp body in that position for several moments, enjoying the sensation of bouncing the young stud like a yo-yo, the strained chords of his right nut trying gallantly to hold the load…

The blonde tightened his grip on the doomed testicle even more, lifted Joel a few more inches into the ground, then flung out his hand as if attempting to ‘walk the dog’ with a yo yo. Joel’s body, still held up by a single nut and its connective tissues, lowered several inches, then bounced back.  The ball was holding on.  The blond seemed genuinely annoyed and again flung the boy toward the ground like a giant yo-yo… then several things happened at once.

The blonde’s hand closed completely, the battered nut exploded in the sack from the weight. The flattened nut escaped the blonde’s grip, sending Joel’s body crashing to the ground.   The front of the man’s slacks were slick with precum and his erection strained against the fabric.

He looked down almost with pity at the unconscious barista at his feet.  Here was this cute Italian kid with donkey nuts now half desexed.  The blonde thought about adding insult to injury by seeding his straight ass, knowing that it’d be so tight he’d almost instantly explode, but decided against it.  He lifted Joel’s limp body and propped him up against the prep counter and proceeded to trap him in the same one-armed bear hug that had proven so effective earlier.

By now Joel was starting to stir, not yet consciously aware of the destruction of this right nut.

“Pl-please don’t… Please don’t hurt me no more…”

Joel turned his head meekly to make eye contact with the man.  His eyes, glistening with tears, pleaded and begged more than any words Joel could have managed at that point, but the blonde ignored him.

“I think I want the panini,” the blonde said coolly.

He proceeded to violently grab Joel’s sack, half of it mushy, and force it onto the bottom plate of the sandwich maker. Since it had been off for a while, it was no longer hot, but the man grabbed the top of the sandwich maker and slammed the lid shut a dozen times. Joel only babbled and drooled, not noticing that — around the fifth blow– the blonde had turned on the machine. It was quickly getting hotter and hotter as his remaining nut was being crushed by the heavy top plate.

“Ooh! Sssop!” Joel howled.

The blonde held the panini machine shut, trapping Joel’s left ball a\s the heating plates continued to warm.  First, the smell of singed hair wafted up from the machine, then burning flesh.  Now the plates were directly roasting Joel’s nut. The sperm inside was boiling, the tissue was getting softer…

SLAM! SLAM! SPLOSH!

The blonde slammed the lid twice more and, weakened by the earlier beating and roasting, the nut gave way, the sack that hadn’t been seared off already split, and the contents splattered the inside of the machine.  The blonde released Joel whose limp body fell to the floor with a thud and then turned his attention to the sandwich machine. Inside was a bloody, gooey mess of sperm and nut meat. What were once two large, proud stud nuts were now just goo on a hot plate.  The visual was too much and the blonde quickly pulled down his pants stroked his cock and explosively came all over Joel’s body.  The barista was soaked from head to torso as volley after volley of the blonde’s cum splashed over him. 

After the explosive orgasm that had made the blonde weak in the knees, he coolly tucked his still raging eight inch cock into his pants, zipped up and made his way out of the coffee shop, disappearing into the night.

Seth Gets Revenge

This is part two of 'Seth Gets Nailed' which can be found here.

Seth’s gleaming Prius was strikingly out of place as it glided through the battered and run down Riverview Park neighborhood.  He was leaning back quite far in his seat as if somehow hoping his low profile would make the car less conspicuous, a look of fierce concentration etched across his aged, yet still boyish face.

“You have reached your destination,” the car’s computer voice announced as he approached one of the non-descript brick apartment buildings.

Seth parked the car and scratched his thick black goatee while he waited, replaying the story of how he had ended up — a ‘good kid’ from the suburbs — stalking someone he barely knew in the heart of the City’s roughest neighborhood.

It had been nearly four years since his testicles had been brutally crushed in a gangland revenge beating that had actually been intended for his best friend at the time, Josh Kennedy.  The incident shocked his otherwise quiet part of town, but with Josh feigning ignorance of the motive, and Seth’s shell shocked memory of no use to the investigation, the attention of the public — and the police — quickly turned to other matters.  Josh, for his part, left the City a year later claiming he had found an ‘honest’ job in Covington, but the fact that Josh abruptly cut off contact with his former best friend lead Seth to believe he had only spiraled further into the seedy life that had led to Seth’s emasculation in the first place.

Even now, the initial weeks and months after having his balls crushed one at a time with a hammer were a horrific blur. Antibiotics kept him from getting any serious infections. Hormone treatments kept his voice from cracking and his body running smoothly.  Insurance kept him financially aloft until he was well enough to return to work and modest, silicone implants tucked into his masterfully reconstructed scrotum made him look physically normal.   He had taken to the gym, at first just as a way to vent frustration, and then to maintain the surprisingly rippled, filled out body that had emerged from his once lanky, ’skater boy’ frame. Seth had no idea he was a late-blooming jock.  He gradually gave up skating, let his facial hair grow out and started dressing and carrying himself like the refined twenty-six year old he was.  Indeed, for all intents and purposes, Seth’s life after the attack was surprisingly normal. But his now much more conservative lifestyle disguised an arguably unhealthy, primal anger that constantly bubbled just beneath his surface.

Virtually every day for two years he would come home, change out of his office attire, and head out into the streets gathering information and following up on leads until one day, while he was in a seedy pool hall his underworld investigation had lead him to, he joked along with one of his ‘friends’ about the time someone named Ryung Kim cracked a guy’s walnuts with a hammer.  Seth laughed along, the stranger unaware he had just given Seth the final piece of information he needed.  The rest of the task of tracking Ryung down was relatively easy…

An hour passed, the sun just beginning to set among the canyons of the housing project towers and Seth was about to abort his mission when he suddenly sat bolt upright in his seat.  Rounding the corner was his target, Ryung, an athletic Korean man who now looked to be in his early thirties.  Ryung’s jet black hair was traditionally styled and he was wearing a white dress shirt and slacks, the small bright yellow name tag from a local electronic store over his right breast.  Despite crows’ feet and stress wrinkles that aged him beyond his years, Ryung was still quite handsome, though it was apparent even through his ill fitting uniform that his body had softened considerably from the last time Seth had seen him as a sculpted, muscular jock.

“Got’ya,”  Seth grinned to himself as he carefully watched Ryung who was smiling to himself, unaware of the danger lurking just across the street.

Seth strained his eyes to see which mailbox Ryung checked once he entered the lobby and committed the number to memory.  He also noted the time before driving off.  Seth did this several more nights, taking careful observation of Ryung’s movements and timing and, as Seth predicted, his movements were quite predictable. Home by eight every night, except Friday when he arrived on the last bus at two A.M, the streets practically deserted.  Several Fridays later Seth slipped into the apartment tower after having buzzed every door claiming to be a delivery boy.  He made his way to Ryung’s ground floor apartment which — to his welcome surprise — was unlocked. Seth sneered and rolled his eyes at Ryung’s apparent arrogance and let himself inside.  He set down his small knapsack and began exploring the apartment.

Despite the patch work furniture and mismatch wall hangings, the apartment was surprisingly well kept.  Seth brazenly explored the bedroom and the medicine cabinet to look for any clues Ryung didn’t live alone — a woman’s dress hanging or a makeup compact.  He found none.  A lone curdled jug of milk and a half eaten sandwich in the fridge verified Seth’s suspicions Ryung was a bachelor, which was great since Seth didn’t want anyone spoiling their reunion.  By the looks of it, Ryung had at least - on the surface - left his gang life behind, though there were subtle reminders; A hand gun tucked under the bed — which Seth pocketed — and a photo on the dresser of a teenage Ryung and another Korean jock, a platinum blonde man, smiling.  Seth instantly recognized the blonde and spat on the picture in disgust.  Ironically, sitting dusty and forgotten in a closet was a white X-Frye skateboard, the model now several generations out of date, with a broken front axle.  

Out of a strange sense of nostalgia, Seth picked up the skateboard, still surprised by how light it felt, and ran a finger through the dust… his musings interrupted as he heard the apartment door starting to open.

CRACK!

Before Ryung had even fully stepped into the apartment, Seth sent the light – yet painfully solid – skateboard crashing into the side of his head.  Ryung, stunned, stumbled backwards before being forcefully pulled into the apartment, the door being slammed behind him. 

At just over six foot one, Ryung was taller than Seth, but his muscles had softened considerably as he had settled into his middle age physique.  Now, unlike that night in the forest, Seth’s tight muscular build was an even match against the Korean electronics store clerk. Seth also had the element of surprise.

The two struggled fiercely for several minutes, Ryung thinking he had stumbled upon a run of the mill robbery attempt, before Seth gained a decisive upper hand. When Ryung was down trying to gain his bearings, Seth beat Ryung in the head with a statuette to the point of making Ryung black out.  Seth reached for his knap sack and got to work…

When he came to, Ryung was shocked to find that he was standing, his legs spread apart shackled to a door frame on the other side of the apartment, facing the front door. His hands were tied overhead, leaving him totally defenseless. When he tried to call for help he realized he had been tightly muzzled. Even breathing was difficult…

Ryung pleaded through his gag, tears streamed from his blackened eyes down his bloodied face. Around him, apartment was in a shambles. Bookshelves and tables had been overturned in the struggle; a lamp lay strewn in pieces across the living room floor.

The whole attack had happened so fast and had been so brutally efficient; Ryung was still in a state of shock by it all.  He wouldn’t have believed his attacker was the same person he had handedly beaten and castrated just a few years prior.

“Ah, you’re awake,” came Seth, his voice dripping with hatred.

Ryung was confused by the tone of familiarity his attacker was taking.  He attempted to scream, but only a muffled sound came out.

Seth stood directly in front of Ryung for what seemed like several minutes without saying a word. Seth was surprised, and slightly disturbed, at how much he enjoying watching Ryung as he writhed and struggled against his constraints. Finally, Seth spoke,

“So you really don’t remember me, do you?”

Ryung looked at Seth quizzically.

“That’s right, think really hard, douche bag.  Patriots Park, 2012.  It was in all the papers.”

Ryung, still struggling, only gave Seth a look of blank confusion.  “My God,” Seth thought to himself.  Most people would vividly remember the face of someone whose balls they turned to jelly with a hammer, but here was Ryung seemingly unable to recall him.  Did Ryung mutilate so many guys for fun during his younger heyday that Seth was literally just another face in the crowd?

Seth gave the Korean several more seconds to register who he was before tiring of his stupidity.  He raised his knee twice with crushing force into Ryung’s exposed crotch. Ryung gagged and would have doubled over had he not been tied to his spot.

Seth wasn’t gay, but even he had to admire the impressive bulge in Ryung’s dress pants.

“I bet you it was these are some donkey balls.”  Seth  said as he rubbed the bulge in Ryung’s slacks softly, licking his lips at the prospect at what he was about to do next, “I’ve always wanted to pop donkey nuts.” He finished the last part whispering softly in Ryung’s ear.

To Seth’ disgust, and Ryung’ surprise, Ryung’s cock was starting to stir, its stiffening outline snaking down the thigh of his jeans.

“So you like it when I touch you?”

Ryung whimpered pathetically…

WHAM!

Seth balled his fist and power drove it into the tempting bulge a dozen times. Each time he could feel the huge balls underneath flattening against Ryung’s pelvis. This succeeded in causing Ryung’s cock to again go flaccid. Ryung’s face was turning beet red and tears of agony were streaming down his face. His balls were as sensitive as they were large and Seth’ pounding had launched him into a world of hurt.

Seth stepped away and gave a heaving Ryung a few minutes to recover. He disappeared and loudly rifled through Ryung’s room, yelling ‘Aha!’ at something he found.  Seth returned to a look of wide eyed horror on Ryung’s face, who was screamed so loudly that he was almost audible over the gag. His body thrashed violently, but he was still held tightly to the door frame. Seth was carrying a baseball bat, patting it against his hand and was licking his lips as he approached Ryung.

Ryung was still totally unaware who Seth was, but knew full well what was about to happen and gave Seth a pleading look. The bat sailed through the air with a whoosh, stopping just inches from the hulking bulge in Ryung’s jeans.

Seth looked at the fear and anticipation in Ryung’s eyes and laughed.

“Just wanting to get my aim lined up…”

The bat was swung three more times, each time flying through the air with breakneck speed only to stop just before destroying Ryung’ nuts. Each time Ryung’s abs would contract in anticipation, his now sweat-soaked dress shirt clung to his barely defined six pack abs.

Seth put the bat down and stepped up to Ryung. Ryung assumed he was in for another knee…

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!

Seth’s knee slammed into the helpless man’s crotch so hard that his knee cap actually hurt from the impact with Ryung’s pelvic bone. The poor trapped testicles between his knee and the bone were certainly being totally crushed.

Ryung thought he was going to pass out. His vision was blurry. He was begging through the gag, but no sound was escaping. Seth grabbed for Ryung’s neck — Ryung thought he was about to be strangled — but instead Seth grabbed the neck of the shirt and ripped it off with a quick pull of his hands. Ryung’s chest was heaving heavily, drenched in sweat.

“Oh, you’ve let yourself go, haven’t you?”

In Seth’s nightmares, Ryung’s body was still Adonis-like, muscular perfection.  But in reality, Ryung now had a slight gut, though hints of his former musculature were still apparent.  The muscles he did have in his arms and shoulders were still well defined but, as his predicament showed, no longer a match for Seth.  He was tan and his totally hairless torso made him look much younger below the neck than above.

“You should’ve stayed at the gym. I almost feel bad for beating your pudgy ass down,”

Seth picked up the bat and took a batting stance.

“Almost…”

WHOOSH! WHACK! The bat sailed through the air, only this time it didn’t stop before colliding with 

Ryung’s balls. Ryung’ eyes bugged out and his face turned beet red.

“…Too bad you didn’t show me…”

WHOOSH! CRACK!

“…any mercy when…”

WHOOSH! CRACK!

“….you had the chance!”

WHOOSH! CRUNCH!

Seth slammed the bat into Ryung’ crotch like he was hitting a piñata he desperately wanted to explode open. He was sure he was inflicting permanent damage to the now swollen bulge, but he didn’t care.

Ryung thought he was going to be sick and longed for the released of passing out again.

Seth threw the bat down with a clang and again reached for Ryung’s crotch with his hands. He roughly fondled the truly enormous balls through his slacks, kneading them like dough. Ryung’s head rolled in agony at the assault.

“Let’s get these off,” Seth slowly unzipped Ryung’s pants and pulled them and his boxer shorts to his ankles.

Seth licked his lips and felt his own cock stir at the sight, aroused by the total domination he had over Ryung. Although they were beaten purplish black, Ryung’ balls still dripped of raw masculinity. They were by far the largest Seth had ever seen, even including the monstrously large equipment highlighted in porn. They hung down several inches like fleshy lemons.

“You really are hung like a donkey,”

Seth grabbed Ryung’s left nut with both hands and squeezed. Ryung writhed in agony as Seth began pulling his clenched hands in opposite directions; he was trying to literally rip his ball apart with his bare hands!

Ryung screamed and pleaded while he desperately tried to break his restraints, but this only seemed to make Seth more determined to crush his nut. Although it was being assaulted more than most guys’ nuts could have tolerated, Ryung’s rock hard nut stayed totally firm for the ten minutes Seth crushed and pulled it.

Seth let the heavy testicle fall out of his hand and Ryung was relieved that he didn’t immediately reach for the right nut.

Instead, Seth silently fetched something out of his knapsack. Ryung was too dazed to realize at first what it was. Seth wrapped something, like a string, around the base of Ryung’s package. He then ran the length of string across the apartment, stopping at the coffee table to run the wire around one of its legs like a gear, and then tied it to the apartment door. The string around Ryung’s cock and balls was taught… too taught. Ryung’s looked down in horror to see a thin trickle of blood at the base of his huge balls; the chord was cutting into his skin!

Ryung went to struggle but this only seemed to make the wire tighten, further cutting into the base of his cock.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you. See this wire is looped so that it’ll close the loop around your worthless junk as soon as someone opens the apartment door.”

Ryung cried and struggled, but this only caused the wire to bite more and more into his skin.

“Ya’ see. Any minute now the police are going to come storming into this apartment.”

Seth ignored Ryung’s muffled screams as pulled out the stolen gun which was still firmly in his back pocket.  In the confusion Ryung hadn’t noticed it and, upon seeing it, sprayed the floor in front of him with piss as he renewed his struggles in earnest – only stopping when the wire made a particularly deep slice into the base of his right nut.

Ryung pleaded through his gag as Seth rose the gun’s barrel to his chest.  Seth could feel the barrel vibrate with each beat of Ryung’s panic-stricken heart, and for a moment he felt his finger twitch on the trigger….  tears were streaming down Ryung’s face as he no doubt was watching his pathetic life flashing before his eyes.  Seth couldn’t believe how totally he had transformed from that helpless skater boy in the woods.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Ryung cried out and clenched his eyes as Seth pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession.  Seth had turned the gun and fired aimlessly into the ground some distance away. 

BOOM! BOOOM!

Seth fired twice more bullets, blatantly not aiming for the helpless Ryung who was now looking on in confusion.  Seth gave Ryung a telling shit-face grin.

“I wonder how long before…” 

A wail of sirens pierced the night air.  Even in this neighborhood the police response to a shooting was nearly instantaneous.  Ryung struggled against his restraints, causing the chord to dig further into the base of his sack, as he listened to frantic footsteps in the apartment hallway.  Raised voices of frightened neighbors and police officers could be heard just outside Ryung’s door..

BOOM!

Seth fired the gun once more and threw it aside.

“Help! In here!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, not even trying to disguise his voice. 

“This is the police! Open the door!”  A voice boomed from the other side of apartment door.

Seth grinned in evil self satisfaction “Well, that’s my cue,” he said, walking up to the trapped Korean stud and giving his balls one last, mockingly light squeeze before fleeing out the bedroom window.

Meanwhile, Ryung was screaming and begging through his gag, trying to warn the police not to come in, but any sounds that came through his gags only sounded like a muffled cry which ironically only piqued the officers’ attention more.

“We are entering the apartment,” the voice boomed as the apartment doorknob began to turn.

Ryung glanced around, frantically trying to device a way out of his situation… he was screaming, trying to warn the police not to open the door, but only unintelligible muffled noise came out. Ryung looked on in horror as the door knob turned and the door began to open…

He let out an agonized scream as the wire began to cut through the base of his cock. The door opened further, by now the wire was almost totally though the base of his once proud cock…

Ryung writhed, which only quickened the end… The door kept opening, the policeman oblivious to the damage he was causing. Everything played out in slow motion for Ryung. The wire tore deeper and deeper into the base of his scrotum and cock, closing the loop. It wouldn’t be long now…

“Holy shit!” a young looking policeman screamed when the door was fully opened.

The officer and Ryung made eye contact just as the loop closed completely and Ryung’s entire sexual package was severed cleanly off. The officer stood in muted horror, too shocked to even react at first, and watched as the heavy sex organs landed with a wet plop on the apartment floor.

“We need a bus!” the officer shouted frantically as he raced to the writhing victim.

The officer pulled off his own shirt and jammed it into the hole in Ryung’s crotch to stop the bleeding, inadvertently stomping on Ryung’s severed testicles as he did so. Another officer entered, stunned by the scene and raced toward the rookie and the mutilated civilian.

SPLAT!

The second officer looked down to see that he had stomped on the man’s huge balls, only this time the right nut was totally flattened. He thought we was going to be sick as he lifted his boot, a thick trail of goop still attached to the floor.

Emergency responders came within minutes and found the dazed officers attempting to aid Ryung on the couch. As they wheeled the stretcher into the street, which was now abuzz with gawking neighbors, one of the paramedics shouted to another “Go back, see if there’s anything left to reattach.”

A heavy set blond paramedic stomped back into the apartment, the floor where Ryung had been tied was a bloody mess. There didn’t look to be…

SPLAT! SPLOSH!

The paramedic looked down in horror as he realized that in his haste he had just totally crushed the remains of Ryung’s nuts under his boot. Ryung’s last whole testicle and his cock exploded like water balloons under the heavy paramedic’s foot, instantly crushed beyond recognition. The paramedic stood frozen for several moments, lifting his foot slowly to reveal the mutilated mess underneath.

“There’s nothing left to reattach, sir,” he reported as he came back onto the street.

No one paid attention as Seth slipped away from the commotion outside the apartment block and rounded the corner.  As he entered his car, he pressed the voice command button — his hands still bruised from the fight — and gave the car a new destination address.

“This is a new address. Would you like to save this destination?”  The car’s computer voice asked cheerily.

Seth paused, “Yes.  Save as Josh’s House.” he replied.

There was beep as the computer began reciting driving directions, a look of fierce determination on Seth’s face as he pulled off.

Epic Roshambo

Amajor University junior James Monroe frowned as he reluctantly accepted the Facebook invitation that popped up exactly one minute after noon on his phone.  It was for a party at his fraternity’s house — Tau Omega Chi — that evening and, since he lived there, he figured he had no option than to attend.  The description was strikingly vague: EPIC.

The rest of the day was uneventful and James stayed on campus until just after 10 PM.  As he pulled onto Fraternity Row, he saw on both sides of the street, parties were overflowing into the well-kept lawns of stately fraternity and sorority mansions.  Even the usually quiet, relatively modest bungalow of the university’s honors fraternity was abuzz, which is why James was shocked to find the Tau Omega Chi house was ostensibly deserted.  He heard no music as he approached the large double doors. There were no drunk coeds in the lawn.  The Tau Omega Chi house looked like a posh suburban home that hadn’t been invited to the block party.

James scratched his head in confusion, and had just reached for the knob when the door opened suddenly from the other side.  An obviously drunk Tad, a tall, lanky yet ruggedly handsome blonde senior greeted James holding an empty cocktail glass.

“James!” Tad shouted giving his fraternity brother a hug.

“Hi, Tad, ” James said gently pushing the taller student off of him, then grabbing him by the arm when the inebriated Tad started to tumble backward.

“Where is everyone?”

“Downstairs,” Tad answered, righting himself and leading the way to the house’s basement. 

As they made their way through the apparently abandoned mansion, James’ confusion grew until he began to hear wafts of pop music and laughter coming from behind the closed basement door. 

“There are tons of Tau brothers down there from all over. They’re all so cool, too. And we got babes from Hooper Conservatory. It’s off the hook yo’” Tad answered James’s lingering ‘what’s going on’ before he had even asked it.  So it was a closed invitation intra-fraternity mixer, that would explain why it didn’t have the public revelry of the other parties, James concluded.

As soon as James opened the heavy basement door the blaring music and strobe lights took away any doubt he had that this party was indeed going to be epic.  The basement was larger than the footprint of the building above it, so was quite large with a totally open floor plan.  The lights had been dimmed to the level of a night club and an unseen fog machine was obscuring everything below knee level.  Laser lights shone down on the impromptu dance floor in the middle of the room where dozens of young men and women grinded to the offerings of a live D.J who had setup station on the far side of the basement. There were no less than five games of beer pong being played, two billiard tables in use, all of the fraternity’s six pinball machines and a limbo tournament.  This was quite the party. James made his way to one of the bars setup along each of the four walls and got a beer.

“Dude, isn’t this awesome?” came a familiar voice from behind as a James took a swig of his beer.

James turned to see Gordon, a shorter, muscular junior walking toward him. 

“Dude! How many chapters are here?”  James asked, shouting over the music but starting to acclimate to the noise.

“Um, three I think.  Ours, Quintero University and University of State.  Oh, and don’t forget the lovely ladies from Hooper.”  Gordon nodded his head toward two young women sipping red cocktails nearby. One of them, a curvy, short blonde winked at James before turning back to her friend and giggling.

“I think she likes you, yo’.  Best break you off a piece,”

James felt his cock twitch at the prospect of an anonymous hookup with a girl with the ostensibly conservative all-girl Hooper Conservatory.  James was universally acknowledged as handsome, his naturally white hair - perpetually styled into spikes - framing his boyishly handsome, seemingly permanently-tanned face.  He was just shy of six foot with a well sculpted, swimmers build, the showcasing of which he had turned into a science.  He knew exactly what size and brands of jeans made his ass look the best. Which style of shirts showed his rippled twelve pack abs and hugged his muscular - but not bulging - biceps without appearing too vulgar.  His legs were slim but well-toned from years of running and swimming.  He licked his lips, ran a hand over his white polo, which of course showed off his upper body perfectly, and approached the two young women.

An hour, and several cocktails later, James and Tiffany, the blonde Hooper student, were practically attached at the hip.  They made out like long lost lovers while they grinded together on the dance floor, James’s thick seven inch cock raging as it snaked down the leg of his jeans.  The unflattering dim lights and laser beams didn’t do Tiffany justice, James concluded as he nuzzled her neck.  She was absolutely gorgeous and smelled amazing.  James couldn’t wait to get her upstairs…

“Tiff, let’s get some air, okay?”  came a high pitched young lady’s voice.

A slightly tipsy James looked in the direction of the voice and sighed.  It was another Hooper girl, Miranda, the same one Tiffany had been joking with earlier.  During the course of the night Miranda, who was clearly less comfortable than her Hooper sisters at the prospect of being so outnumbered by men at a neighboring university, seemed to have made it her mission to keep the drunken Tiffany out of trouble.  She kept popping up at inopportune moments, getting in way right when James tried to advance.

Tiffany and Miranda made their way up the basement stairs and James pushed through the crowd to the bar, where he ordered another drink.

“Careful, he doesn’t like whiskey,”  came Gordon’s deep voice, nodding toward the obvious outline of James’ cock through his jeans. 

James flushed with embarrassment.

“So things are going well for you and blondie, I see,” Gordon said winking. 

“Yeah, I think so. If her stuck up friend wasn’t constantly cock blocking.  Anyway, it looks like you and that guy from University of State are hitting it off,” 

James indicated in the direction of a University of State student with a similar build to Gordon but darker, possibly Indian skin.  He was sharply dressed and was dancing with himself on the dance floor, presumably waiting for his dance partner Gordon to return.  

Gordon winked, “Yeah, his name’s Kamal. He’s really nice to talk to…”

“And will probably be really nice to fuck.” James interrupted, “Don’t go playing so innocent.”

The two laughed and toasted their drinks as Gordon made his way back to Kamal.

No sooner had Gordon wrapped his arms around Kamal than James felt someone tap him on the shoulder. 

“Alex, Tiffany and I are going to go,” Miranda said, a very tipsy Tiffany standing next to her.

“I’m James,” he snorted rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. Just tell my brother we’re leaving.”

Brother?  James couldn’t believe such a stuck up, pretentious bitch could ever be related to a free-spirited, fun loving…

“Sis!  You aren’t leaving are you?”  Tad asked, his words slurring, sloshing an enormous blue cocktail in a fish bowl as he approached the three.

“This is your sister?” James asked, not even attempting to disguise his incredulity.

Miranda rolled her eyes and, Tiffany’s arm in hand, was about to make her way back through the crowd to the stairs when suddenly the music stopped. A confused hush quickly filled the basement, everyone turning their heads toward an apparent argument taking place near one of the billiard tables.  Tad handed his fish bowl to his sister to hold and he and James were making their way toward the commotion before Miranda  could protest. 

“What’s going on here?” James demanded, trying his best not to slur his words as he approached two relatively young scuffling fraternity brothers.

“Brother President! I’m sorry,” said one of the boys as he quickly stood down.

“Get off of him,” came a thick Indian accent as Kamal made his way through the crowd, followed closely by Gordon.  Kamal, a short yet powerfully built Indian James assumed was Gordon’s age, pushed forward, grabbing one of the two scuffling students and pulling him off the other.   James grabbed the other young man, a newly inducted freshman from his own chapter with a wiry frame.

After a few moments, with virtually everyone’s attention now in the direction of the brawl — even though only a small portion could actually see what was going on — James and Kamal were able to calm down the two men and get an explanation.  They were both quite drunk, but through their rambling story, James and Kamal were able to conclude that the whole scuffle was the result of a game of roshambo gone awry.  The State student accused the Amajor student of cheating, some names were exchanged and — their minds clouded with alcohol — they started brawling.

James and Kamal looked at each other, having long let the drunk freshman go, and laughed hysterically. 

“Guys, guys. We’re all brothers here,” James called out to the on looking crowd, many were visibly disappointed by the lack of true drama.

“Can I get a Tau Call?”  James shouted and every man in the room, including the once fighting but now drunkenly embracing freshmen, erupted into the fraternity chant.

I’m glad that was nothing, James thought to himself, almost aloud.  Despite the situation, his cock was starting to get hard again as he caught eyes with Tiffany who was making suggestive faces just out of Miranda’s hawk-like site.  He knew he was about to get lucky…

“…So, are you Amajor boys up to it?”  Kamal asked giving James a playful, but hard, punch on his left pec.

James had totally zoned out, slightly too drunk and entirely too distracted by the thought of eating out Tiffany’s pussy to have heard the first part of Kamal’s question.  Whatever it had been, it had gotten the crowd in hysterics, the basement filled with young men chanting the name of their respective schools.  The ladies, who rarely got to see such debauchery at the traditionalist Hooper Conservatory, were even chiming in.

“What?”  James had just barely asked when he felt a tremendous pain from his crotch.

CRUNCH!

Kamal’s foot collided squarely with the crotch of James’s jeans, crunching his large balls.  James’ hands immediately raced for his crotch and his mouth opened in a wide ‘O’ as he slumped to the ground.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Kamal joked, “We’re all Tau Omega’s, but only a select few are U of State!” 

The men from University of State erupted into applause while the Quintero and Amajor University factions playfully jeered.

What the Hell happened? James thought to himself as he slowly got back to his feet.

“Ten seconds,” Kamal said counting down.

“Ten… nine… eight…” by now half of the basement had joined in.

James righted himself and gritted his teeth through the dull ache coming from his nuts.  So, he realized, this was a game of Roshambo.  Perhaps Kamal was using this brotherly bonding time to show the younger students how it was done.

“Spread em!” James instructed to ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the crowd. 

Kamal stood, his thick legs spread and waited.  His Armani jeans hugged every inch of his powerful legs, and crotch, leaving little to the imagination.  Two lumps were clearly visible at the very bottom of the ‘V’ formed by his legs.  James steadied himself, the room starting to spin in his drunken state, drew back his leg and…

WHOOOSH!….. CRUUUUNCH!

“Oh, that had to hurt!” a watching fraternity brother called out.  Several of the Hooper girls giggled and dozens of the watching young men put their hands over their own crotches in a not at all mocking response of sympathy.  The hard crunch of James’ large foot stomping into Kamal’s crotch was incredibly loud.

Kamal let out a high pitched yelp and squatted to the floor clutching his balls.  He was breathing heavily, his face contorted in concentration as he tried to ignore the pain.  The crowd began chanting the ten second count down toward forfeit and had gotten down to ‘three’ when Kamal rose to his feet.

Without prompting, James stood, legs spread and arms behind his back.  The crowd leaning in breathlessly as the short Indian jock approached the much taller James.  When he had lined up his shot, Kamal took a few steps back, and delivered a running-start kick into James’s crotch.  His shin collided into James’s balls with a loud thud.

“Oh fuck!  He’s gonna’ be singing soprano by the time our guy is done with him,”  someone shouted to riotous laughter.  The Amajor boys jeered and made playful deriding comments about University of State.  Everyone was laughing and in good spirits, except for James. 

He had doubled over, laying on his side and biting his tongue not to yell again.  That last hit had been right on target, he could feel both of his nuts crushed between Kamal’s rock hard shin and his pelvis. He was glad that his drunken state was clouding his perception of pain, though all of the alcohol mixed with the throbbing of his balls was starting to make him feel queasy.

“Three… two…”  the crowd counted down, an unofficial referee preparing to blow a whistle just as James got to his feet.

James turned toward Tiffany and winked.  She was laughing at the spectacle.  Tad had made his way back to Miranda, and the two were now sharing the fish bowl sized cocktail, Miranda visibly enjoying the show of watching James’s manhood get pulverized.   James took a few steps to close the gap between him and Kamal and placed his hands on Kamal’s shoulders.

Kamal, despite himself, couldn’t help but feel an attraction to James, his drunken mind toying with the idea of being sandwiched between James and Gordon after he had won this round of ….

CRACK! 

Kamal’s three-way daydream was rudely interrupted by the feeling of James’s knee totally flattening the mound in his jeans.  James’s aim was, despite the alcohol, dead on, though Kamal’s right nut had taken the blunt of the blow.  James released Kamal’s shoulders and let the Indian slump to the floor, his mouth open in a wide ‘O’.

“What's Kamal's favorite food?”  someone shouted jokingly.

“Scrambled eggs!” came a girl’s voice from the back of the room.

“Peanut butter!”  came another.

Everyone laughed.  Kamal was in a world of pain as he listened to the countdown.  James was really trying to hurt him, he thought to himself, and for a moment considered letting the clock wind down to spare himself any more pain.  But he wasn’t about to let this arrogant Amajor brother off the hook…

Kamal was back to his feet literally at the last second of the countdown, wincing as he made his way to James.  He drew his foot back as far as he could and unleashed a powerful — much harder than he usually did for Roshambo — kick into James’s waiting sack.  He grinned as he felt both of James’ balls compressing dangerously flat against the bottom of his shoe and James’s pelvis.

“Ooh!” James squealed his voice cracking as he fell on his butt, knocked to the ground by the power of Kamal’s kick.

The men in the room laughed hysterically. Many of them who had seen the devastating blow up close were crying from laughter. 

“Did you hear that? His voice cracked,” a husky fraternity brother from Quintero University said in a mockingly high pitch voice.

“That’s not all that’s about to crack.  Fuckin’ go for the kill next time, Kamal!” 

James stayed on his back, clutching his damaged crotch tightly, rocking from side to side. The pain was unbearable, Kamal was really trying to hurt him… he moaned despite this best efforts to play it cool and squealed girlishly when his nursing hands accidentally rubbed against his now quite swollen left nut.  This made the on looking crowd roll in laughter. 

“Four… three..”

James was at his feet a bit earlier in the countdown than before, but was now visibly limping as he lined up his stance to Kamal. Kamal’s tight, muscular frame was slouched slightly in pain as he attempted to keep his legs spread far apart.

“That’s right, Jay.  Pop those balls,” 

“Ultimate Roshambo! Pop! Pop! Pop!” a rowdy freshman from University of State started chanting against his own fraternity brother.

“Pop! Pop! Pop!”  the crowd chanted rhythmically, the girls from Hooper seeming to be especially amused, as James lined up his foot. 

He rose and lowered his foot several times, the alcohol starting to really make him dizzy, to make sure his aim was on.  He turned and gave Tiffany a wink.  He then turned back to a visibly afraid Kamal who was forced to stand legs spread to the haunting chant of ‘POP’.  He drew his leg back so far he nearly lost his balance then let it swing with a powerful WHOOSH! 

The tip of James’s foot collided right at the bottom of Kamal’s bulging testicles with such force that the dark haired stud’s entire body was lifted several inches into the air.

“Oh fuck!” Kamal screamed as he landed in a heap on the ground. 

The feeling — and loud crunch — of Kamal’s nuts being compressed so perfectly through his jeans was sickening to James, who had never kicked anyone in the balls with the intend of causing permanent damage before. But the crowd did want ‘ultimate’ roshambo….

“Three… two…” Kamal rolled on the ground, tears shamelessly streaming down his face.  He rubbed each nut in a near panic, knowing for sure one of them had blown apart, but they were both — though swollen — still whole.  He was at his feet just as the whistle was about to be blown.

He wobbled for a bit and James, without thinking, reached out and grabbed him to stop him from falling over.  Despite his dark skin, Kamal’s face was visibly pale, and his studly legs were shaking.  This had gone on long enough, James concluded, and he was about to ask Kamal if he was okay when Kamal took advantage of James’s moment of kindness, pulling James — who was ironically still holding Kamal steady — toward him and raising his knee.   His rock hard knee connected right into James’s mounding nuts with a loud CRU–UUNCH!

Several of the watching boys sincerely grimaced.  Others giggled.  The sound of the impact was loud, and visceral and it was obvious James’ sexlife had just taken a real beating.  As James crumpled to the ground one of the boys shouted “I almost went deaf!” referring to the loud impact.

“There can’t be anything left after that,”

“Kamal, stop playing around, crush his spuds like you did that other guy,” a deep voice called out.

Crush his spuds like you did that other guy? Even through his drunkenness and pain, the comment was bone chilling to James.  He couldn’t’ tell — and frankly didn’t care — if the guy was joking.  The jeering and cheering was at a fever pitch, with every colorful analogy for testicular rupture being thrown out. 

James regained his posture and faced a still wobbly Kamal. He hesitantly spread his legs and gave James a sincerely pleading look.  James was about to call a draw when he was suddenly filled with boiling rage at how Kamal had used his earlier goodwill against him.  James’s white hair contrasted with his now flush red face as he stomped his foot directly into Kamal’s crotch..

CRUU–N—SH!

Even through his shoe, James could tell Kamal’s balls were swelling. Kamal let out a high pitch, agonized scream and fell to his knees crying.

“Ah, baby can’t handle it?” came a watching frat boy rubbing his eyes, callously making fun of Kamal.

“You’d cry too if your nuts just ruptured,”

“James, stop holding back! Destroy him.  Blow his junk apart.”

James stepped back and looked down with pity at the crying jock.  As the crowd counted down, James felt someone tap him on the shoulder, it was Gordon.

“Dude! Stop this, please. You’re both drunk. Someone’s going to get hurt,”  Gordon pleaded, keeping his voice just low enough to not be over heard.  James’ eyes were glossed over as he looked at Gordon, who was now looking passed James at his fallen potential hookup. James grinned.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll still be able to have fun with you. Maybe just not as a top,”

“James! That’s not funny, cut this out…” 

James was oblivious to the notes of genuine concern in Gordon’s voice and walked back into the impromptu arena, Gordon getting pushed toward the back of the crowd by those more interested in watching the blood sport.

Kamal got to his wobbly feet just as the crowd had reached ‘one”.  He took a few jerky, hesitant steps, seeming like he was going to fall each time and wincing with each step.    Kamal got within inches of James, everyone thinking the taller white haired frat boy was about to get his balls turned to paste by Kamal’s knee.

“Please dude, let’s just call it a draw.  I’m really starting to hurt,”  Kamal pleaded, just loud enough for only James to hear.

James pretended not to hear him and, dejected, Kamal took several steps back, then ran in as straight a line as he could — delivering a devastatingly powerful kick to James’s crotch.  The feeling of James’s large nuts being pulped against his pelvis turned Kamal’s stomach.  He was really gonna’ hurt this guy, he thought to himself as he watched James collapse onto his side, clutching his balls in a fetal position.

Upon impact, James had let out an extremely high pitched, guttural shriek that made many of the men wince sympathetically.  Everyone else just laughed at the emasculation, the raised octaves serving as cursory proof of the damage that was occurring.

“Looks like Jane is hurt,” one of the men joked at James’s desexing.

“Did you hear that? I think I heard one of them go ‘pop’.”

“Kamal’s gonna burst one, he’s done it before,”

Everyone was laughing and using more and more graphic language to encourage James to his feet to ‘finish the job’.  Kamal’s legs were shaking, but he resolved himself to stay as still as he could with his legs spread.  James almost missed the count down, rising to this feet and running a hand through his white hair. 

The two went back and forth delivering kick after devastating kick for several more rounds.  Sickening crunching, wet splats and hideous thuds filled the basement, barely audible over the inhumane shrieks and blood curdling screams the two studs were letting out.  By now the pain in each of their crotches was too unbearable for words.  Kamal felt the lumps in his jeans — each was swollen to twice it’s normal size and the touch of his own hand sent fiery pricks of pain up his body..  James’s nuts, especially his right nut were equally swollen and painful.  He was sure the right nut was about to be seriously damaged, but by now his bravado was stopping him from calling it quits. He was confident a sobbing Kamal was just ‘one more kick’ away from quitting.   The display had gotten so brutal that many of the onlookers had gone upstairs to resume partying in the main house.  The now thinned crowd consisted almost entirely of men and only a few young women, including Tiffany and Miranda.  Even Tad had left, no longer enjoying the game after James had thrown up in pain while doubled over after a particularly brutal stomping kick that had filled the air with an audible CRUNCH.

It was now James’s turn.  Kamal was crying just from the anticipation of the kick, his chest heaving and his legs shaking.

“Oh yeah, his balls are gonna’ pop this round,  I can feel it,” came a deep voice as a young man leaned closer, not hiding his genuine excitement by the prospect of watching Kamal’s balls get permanently flattened.

“Crush his nuts! Crush his nuts!”  the small crowd chanted, some of the men getting hard at the prospect of hearing a wet ‘SPLAT’ as Kamal’s gonads burst open.  Even some of the watching young women were getting wet at the prospect of the handsome, muscular jock being denutted.

James was about to unleash another kick when someone shouted “Stop!”

He turned to see Tiffany approaching him.  Despite the pain in his crotch, his cock instantly twitched by her presence.  Little did he know that Tiffany’s twat was getting wet at the sick visual of his nuts being crushed into goop.  She grabbed James’s face and pulled him in for a kiss.  James’s cock twitched and he melted into the attractive blonde, not carrying that he was doing so in full few of the crowd.  For a moment, his raging hormones almost made him forget about the powerful ache of his balls.  Tiffany reached for James’s jeans and — to his surprise — started unzipping them.   The remaining Hooper Conservatory women gathered to the front of the crowd.  Even the prudish Miranda was showing interest.

When he felt Tiffany pulling his pants down, James pulled away in shock.

“What’re ya’ doing, babe?”  he asked.

“You guys are freakin’ hotties, am I right, ladies?”

All of the Hooper women and a few of the fraternity brothers cat called and cheered in approval.

“I think you should be showing off more,”  she said, now on her knees as she pulled off James’s pants.

James was in too much shock to protest much as he stepped out of his jeans.  Tiffany went over to Kamal and also removed his pants, though he would have much preferred it was one of the Tau Omega boys. 

“Shot boy,”  Tiffany called out snapping her fingers in the air. 

A young man in a barista outfit came from behind a bar carrying two shots of alcohol.  Tiffany took them and handed one each to the Roshambo contestants, “Drink up,”

Without question, the two knocked back the shots of the powerfully strong liquor, gagging as they did so. 

“That should help loosen you up. Now to just lose these shirts,” 

Tiffany peeled Kamal’s sweaty shirt off of him revealing his muscular, broad chest.  James took his polo off as well and several of the women cat called at his model-like physique.  Even some of the straight men had to nod in respect.  What Kamal had in muscular bulk, James — though thinner — had in sculpture-esque definition and form.

Tiffany ducked back into the crowd, but not before giving James’ nuts a squeeze through his underwear.  The Adonis squealed as his sensitive balls were compressed, which made Tiffany and the other girls laugh.

James and Kamal faced each other in their underwear.  Both were wearing non-descript white boxer briefs that nicely outlined their assess and bulges.  Both had large nuts, though Kamal’s were slightly larger, the outline of all four plump orbs clearly visible in the underwear.  Kamal’s cock protruded on the side as a flaccid nub, but James’s cock — turned on by the prospect of so many people admiring his body — was fully hard running down his leg. The head nearly poked out of the leg of his underwear.  Had James been slightly more sober, he would have been embarrassed by being aroused in front of so many straight men, but he hardly cared at the moment.  He lined up his aim, swung back and foot and sent it crashing into the now clearly defined targets.

CRUNCH!

Kamal’s eggs flattened violently on the impact. His pecs flexed and glistened and the Indian stud gritted his teeth to remain upright.  James was impressed, and intimidated. 

WHOOSH — CRUUUU-NN–CH

Kamal instantly returned the favor by throwing the heel of his foot into James’s bulging nut sack.  The outline of the nuts was clear as they flattened into his body.

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRACK!

The two went back and forth kicking and kneeing as hard as they could several more turns.  During one turn, James kicked Kamal’s crotch so hard from underneath, the poor stud was lifted nearly a foot in the air and James was sure had felt something ‘pop’. But Kamal’s bulge plumped back up to normal.

It was now Kamal’s turn.  James’ face was beat red and he was openly crying from pain, his cock long since deflated.  He felt like he was going to be sick again and was subconsciously giving Kamal pleading looks for mercy, which Kamal ignored…

CRU–SPLAT! 

The sound Kamal’s foot made on impact was a sickening, sort of wet crunch that felt and sounded softer than before.  James’s eyes crossed as he let out a blood curdling scream, clutched his balls and fell backward to the floor.  He rocked back and forth, every muscle of his sculpted abs tensed like a washboard. 

“My nuts! Oh God!’ James screamed, which only made the heckling crowd, go crazy. 

By now the crowd had thinned out to only a few die hard, blood thirsty young men and three Cooper women, all of which were chanting “Pop! Pop!” or “Crush him!” before each powerful kick. 

“Oh dude, you aren’t gonna have anything left,”  one of the men heckled

“I think he’s already done, did you hear that squeal?”  a now tipsy Miranda said laughing and pointing at James as he rolled on the ground in agony. 

He slowly rose to his feet, still clutching his balls with one hand and lined up to devastate Kamal’s package.  Kamal could barely keep his legs open, and had to will himself to keep his hands firmly behind this back, his instincts wanting desperately to nurse his battered nuts.

James cocked his foot back, planning on delivering a devastating stomp into Kamal’s bulging, swollen testicles…

WHOOSH — THUD!

There was an audible gasp from the crowd.  Out of sheer instinct, Kamal’s hands had raced from behind his back at the last minute and had blocked James’s kick.  His swollen testes barely felt anything from what would have otherwise been a perfectly aimed stomp. 

“Cheater!” Tiffany called out, handing Miranda her drink as she made her way into the arena.

“Oh he needs his balls popped for that,” came a rough male voice in a non-joking manner.

“We should hold him down and just let James finish him off,”  came another, the crowd closing the circle around the two contestants.

This is getting out of hand, James thought to himself.  Kamal backed away, genuine terror on his handsome face.  James was still a little too drunk to think totally clear, but he was sure the second fraternity brother wasn’t joking around when he suggested Kamal be held down and ‘finished off’.

“Guys, guys. It’s okay,” James said with a half-hearted laugh, “He didn’t mean to. Let’s just call it a draw…”

The circle closed in tighter. 

“Dude, just crush that faggot. You know you want to.”

James grimaced and looked through the crowd, relieved Gordon had left before such offensive slurs were thrown out. Over the chanting, James hardly noticed Tiffany running up to Kamal, grabbing his underwear and pulling them down to his ankles.  His swollen, purplish balls hung a few inches from his body, the slightest movement causing him to wince in pain.

“Please, stop,”  Kamal cried out, taking a step back but falling as his ankles got tripped up in his underwear.

“Guys, cut it out,”  James implored to the maddening crowd. 

“Get him!”

Two young men rushed in and picked up Kamal.  They grabbed either arm, which was a bit of overkill considering each one by himself was equally built like Kamal, and propped him up.  They each wedged a knee between his legs, trapping Kamal’s legs apart, his swollen eggs dangling.

“Look, easy target,” Tiffany said stoking the flames.

She walked up to James rubbing her crotch suggestively and leaned in, nibbling his ear.  James got instantly hard as she whispered “I’m getting so wet watching you nutting this guy.. I’m dripping,”  she grabbed James’s hand and lead it down the waistband of her pants. His muscular hand found her wet pussy and his cock raged in his underwear. 

As he shamelessly fingered her, she whispered again ‘That’s how wet I am an he’s still whole.  If you finish this game I’d be a gusher.”

James withdrew his hand and licked his fingers, to the delight of the straight men in the increasingly rowdy crowd. 

“Oh yeah, eat that pussy. Poor little Indian is about to turned INTO a pussy,” a University of State senior howled.

He carefully lined up his leg, snapping his foot back several times to make sure his aim was perfect. Kamal’s left nut was visibly much more swollen and purple than the right, so James wanted to make sure to really focus on it.  Kamal was screaming, but one of the young men holding him up had silence him with a hand over his mouth.  The poor Indian stud was writhing and struggling as hard as he could to free himself, fear filling his eyes as he watched James meticulously lining up a blow to his battered nuts.

“Okay, I’m ready,”  James declared cocking back his toe and letting his foot sail into Kamal’s defenseless, naked nut.

CRUNCH!

The tip of James’s foot connected solidly with the now softening left nut. Kamal screamed into his gag and tears ran down his face.  He was sobbing and shaking and trying to escape, knowing that these guys weren’t going to let him go until he really was ‘popped’.

“Penalty kicks!” someone shouted to the crowd’s approval.

“How many do I get?” asked James, an evil glean in his eye.

“As many as it takes,” one of the men holding Kamal answered, forcing the jock’s legs further apart.

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRU—-SPLAT!

Everyone was laughing hysterically by the third kick.  Kamal’s left nut, the direct target of all three vicious kicks was getting visibly bigger and James could feel it was getting noticeably softer with each kick.

“One more, dude. Make it count!”

James took so many steps back that the gathered crowd needed to clear a path.  He let out a guttural, almost warlike cry then ran forward, throwing his foot wildly into the air at the last moment…

SPLAAA—AT!

Kamal’s eyes shot open and he bit the hand gagging him so hard in pain that his captor’s blood trickled down his chin.

“It burst! Holy fuck you actually did it!”  one of the on looking University of State boys shouted in incongruent glee as he swooped down between Kamal’s thrashing legs and roughly grabbed Kamal’s deflated left nut, squeezing it roughly as Kamal squealed.  Indeed, the once round, bloated nut had broken in two, resting in the sack like an awful, broken egg.

“You might as well mush the sucker,” someone shouted. 

By now nearly all of the men, gay and straight, were rock hard, though few knew why.

James lined up his foot again and again nailed Kamal’s  fractured left nut. It was further mushed with a sick, wet sploshing sound and the left side of the sack turned mushy and lumpy.  James stepped up and grabbed Kamal’s sack with his hands, fondling this handy work.  Kamal’s once huge, rock hard testicle had shattered into soft, mushy chunks.  As he squeezed the ruined nut, James got oddly aroused. He wasn’t at all gay, and ordinarily the thought of fondling another man would be stomach turning, but something about feeling the ruined sack — that he knew he had crushed himself — was making him feel incredibly powerful.

“Way to go dude!”

“Way to crack those nuts!”

The two captors released the now comatose Kamal as his sack rapidly swelled.

James signed in relief, glad that the nightmarish game of Roshambo was over.  He took as step away from Kamal’s’ beautiful body but was stopped cold as he felt two sets of arms interlock his. He was being held in the same vulnerable position as Kamal had just been in.  He struggled against his captors but couldn’t free himself. His abs rippled from the effort and his well sculpted biceps strained.  His legs were being held wide open by two knees prying them apart from behind.

“What the Hell, guys! I won.”

“Not yet, I get to finish out Kamal’s turn,” came Gordon’s voice as he shoved through the thin crowd.

“Gordon? When did you get back? Lemme’ go,”

“Shut up!”

WOOSH! CRUNCH!

Muscular Gordon’s foot stomped into James’s bulging underwear. James would have doubled over had he not been held up. 

“Wait!” came Tiffany, standing next to James and pulling his underwear to his ankles.  

James’ huge, swollen balls swung between his legs like two red Easter eggs.  They were oblong and hurt just from inhaling. He didn’t know how he — or his manhood  — was going to survive too many more blows like the one Gordon had just delivered.  His thoughts were distracted as Tiffany grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a long, passionate kiss, stroking his hardening cock and rubbing her pert tits against his chest.

“Oh God, you’re so hot,” James gasped breathlessly as Tiffany stopped making out with him, still stroking his cock. His head was spinning as she expertly stroked his rock hard shaft, precum dripping in heavy gobs from his mushroom head.  She used it as a lube that made James’s gasp and shiver in ecstasy as she stroked.  Tiffany was getting equally aroused servicing this beautiful stud and was breathing heavy as she watched his glistening, muscular frame tense in pleasure.

“There it’s hard and out of the way,” she said abruptly stopping her hand job right when James was sure he was going to cum.

She had barely gotten out of the way before Gordon unleashed three devastating kicks in rapid succession.

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!

James dry heaved and begged for help, but no one watching was interested in giving it.

“Come on, Gordon. Finish him!”

“Pop both of them!’

“Rupture him! Rupture him!” came a group chant lead by, shockingly enough, by an openly delighted Miranda.

That bitch, James thought as he felt Gordon’s foot again collide with his softening manhood from a running-start kick.

CRUUNCH!  James crotch was on fire. He could feel the impact each kick made was softer, the foot crushing deeper into the collapsing testicular membranes.  He was going hysterical trying to escape…

“OH yeah, one or two more good kick and its toast for James Junior,”  someone shouted to laughter.

“They’re gonna explode,”

Gordon cocked his foot back…

“Oh shit! He’s about to make wine out of that dude’s grapes!” everyone laughed at the visual.

“Gordon please!” James screamed in agony as Gordon’s muscular leg snapped back and forth at least a dozen times, each time connecting with a solid, awful CRUNCH.  Tiffany was openly fingering herself as she watched James’s manhood mercilessly destroyed, an attractive olive skinned Tau Omega brother from Quintero University was passionately kissing her neck from behind while his strong hands played with her breasts.  Ironically, watching this was making James’ cock stir with excitement. It was so hard, it jerked with each heartbeat, which tugged on his nut sack and made him wince in pain.

“Help! Help!” James screamed hoping to get the attention of the more sane crowd upstairs, but no one came.

“Oh my God! He’s enjoying this! Sick bastard!” Someone pointed out.

WHOOSH! - CRU—UU-NCSH!

Gordon’s foot collided with particular force into the ridiculously swollen ball bag.  It was obvious they weren’t going to be able to last much longer… but to everyone’s surprise James’s cock seemed to stir even more. 

“What a sick pervert. Kick him again, make him shoot his load,” one of the Cooper girls said, rubbing her crotch.

Tiffany stepped away from the handsome Quintero University stud who had been making out with her, his hard cock shameless poking up from the waistband of this slacks, and approached James. Though he was nearly comatose in pain and wracked with the most fear he had ever experienced, the sight of her still made his nuts roll with excitement. He was so horny, and she was so hot that… Ahhh! He moaned in pleasure as she knelt down and began sucking his cock. The crowd cheered, some of the guys now openly stroking their cocks.  The remaining Cooper women, including Miranda, were busy making out with one — and in some cases two — Tau Omega boys.  A young black Cooper girl moaned in pleasure as she lay over a pool table, a powerfully built young man plowed into her, his pants barely pulled down enough to perform the deed.  The basement was awash with the sounds of sex, the immanent destruction of the helpless, muscular paradigm of male perfection driving everyone wild.  Even Gordon’s enormous nine inch cock was being rubbed through his pants from behind by a supposedly straight Amajor frat boy.

After a few minutes Tiffany stopped sucking and stood up, James’ cock dripped with saliva, which she promptly used as a lube to stroke his cock.  James thought he was going to go crazy the feeling was so incredibly intense.  The pleasure was mixing with the pain and making him roll his head uncontrollably in tormented agony.  He could feel the load that had been building all night boiling in his battered sack…

“Oh yeah, bust those balls,”

“Fuckin’ splatter ‘em!”

Gordon put a hand on his crotch as a signal for his new found cock admirer to stop stroking him.  He then backed up beyond the crowd, beyond the stairs, and didn’t stop until his back was against the wall on the other side of the basement.  Even though his mind was entirely focused on his fantastic hand job, James’s knew what was about to happen next. He could feel each individual nut as it pulsed from excruciating pain.  He was sure they wouldn’t be able to hold up to a running kick from Gordon’s powerful leg.  Through moans of pleasure, James screamed for mercy. 

Thump, thump, thump, thump…

Gordon’s footsteps pounded on the concrete floor like an approaching wild animal. Everyone watched breathlessly as Gordon’s speed, and by extension the force his foot was going to have when it collided with James’s sack, increased.  James let out a howl of terror.

“Oh fuck! They’re gonna’ pop!!” a young man who had been stroking his cock screamed as he came all over the floor in front of him.

Confusingly, watching the guy cum, along with Tiffany’s hand job, was making James even hornier.  He couldn’t hold back. Despite the obvious danger his manhood was in he couldn’t stop getting hornier and hornier, oddly fascinated by Gordon’s muscular, angry frame as it barreled toward him.

“OOOOOH! SHIIIIIIIIT!’ James screamed at the top of his lungs as a massive squirt of jizzz flew several feet in front of him. 

Tiffany kept pumping the still rock hard cock as Gordon closed the gap, and James kept squirting.  He had closed his eyes as his rippled body shuddered in pleasure, so didn’t see as Tiffany stopped pumping his cock to get out of the way as Gordon leaped into the air in the final yard, extending his foot mid-air like a move out of a kung fu movie.  The bottom of his large, heavy foot squashed both of James’s swinging nuts like a punching bag…

SPLA—AT!

 James instantly passed out as his swollen, battered right nut explosively burst in the sack.  The softening organ just couldn’t hold up to the nonstop, tremendous kicking and blew into pieces.  Gordon could feel the nut burst under his foot and thought he was going to cum himself with the sensation. It was sickening yet incredibly hot at the same time.  To everyone’s surprise, James shot one final rope of spunk, landing all over Gordon who had fallen to the ground after his mid-air kick.  The load was thick and copious and twinged pink.  James’s sack quickly swelled as his captors let his unconscious body fall to the ground.  Gordon roughly grabbed the bloated sack, one side per hand and squeezed. His large, strong hands squashed the organs mercilessly to inspect the damage.  The left nut was swollen to more than twice its normal size and was fire red, but still felt entirely whole, even resisting changing shape as Gordon’s huge bicep flexed in effort.  That wasn’t the case for the right nut.  Gordon could feel James’s right nut had been crushed into three large, meaty chunks.  He stopped prodding the left nut and instead focused both of his large hands on what remained of the right.

James’ head rocked back and forth and he quietly monad as Gordon felt his hands coming closer and closer together.  First one of the chunks collapsed with a wet ‘SQUICK, then the next.  Gordon couldn’t believe he had reduced James’s perfect, huge right nut into mush and a single, broken chunk of nut meat.

“Oh yeah! He’s really turning it to paste!” called out another boy

Two Tau Omega brothers who had been stroking side by side both explosively came in unison.  Tiffany was moaning while the olive skinned fraternity brother made out with her like an animal in heat.

“Crush it! Crush it!” chanted the crowd.

“Oh yeah… burst for papa!’ Greg taunted, his face flush red with primal energy.

The last vestige of James’s right nut was turning out to be a tough nut to crack, but both of Gordon’s biceps were bulging with effort…

“Oh yeah! I feel it popping…. it’s starting to give way,” 

Everyone leaned in to hear Gordon’s graphic play-by-play of James’s ultimate testicle destruction.

“Fuck yeah! I just felt something crush in… it’s starting to give. it’s starting to… ah. There it goes…”

Gordon was squeezing as hard as he could, the nut chunk was starting to soften and collapse, offering less and less resistance to his closing fist.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Here it goes!” Gordon screamed his own cock now raging in his jeans, “It’s popping…”

The room fell silent, everyone leaning to hear the satisfying…

SPLOSH!

Gordon explosively came in his jeans without touching himself as his hands rapidly compressed the remaining distance, closing almost completely around the now totally crushed remnant of James’s right nut.  Gordon, not at all embarrassed by the sheen of cum on his jeans stood up and stepped aside so that everyone could see the damage.  The right side of James’s sack was totally crushed flat, making it look especially ridiculous compared to the still plump left half.

“His is flatter than Kamal’s” someone remarked. 

“I’ll fix that,” came a husky University of State student, kicking the long passed out Kamal’s legs apart and trapping his cracked nut under his foot.  He proceeded to raise his other foot from the ground, putting all of his hefty weight on the already ruined ball.

He bounced a few times on the damaged organ and squealed with delight as he felt it totally flatten under his foot. 

It took a few minutes for the out of control atmosphere to calm down enough for the gathered students to start carrying up the injured, blacked out Roshambo players.   A frat boy, his hands still dripping with seamen from his spent load, casually dialed the emergency service on his mobile.

“One nut each,” Tiffany started, as she felt something warm and sticky splattering her back — her handsome makeout partner couldn’t hold back and had sprayed her back with seed.

“I’d say that’s a draw,”  Gordon declared.