LINK - Ball Busting Tales

Hello everyone! I’m hoping you’re enjoying my blog. I hope to have a new story up next week (I’ve been busy turning all of your suggestions into stories, so please, keep them coming!).  In the meantime, I think you’ll get a ‘kick’ out of the stories over at Ball Busting Tales (link below)  a very well done busting story blog over at Blogger.  I’ve gotten countless hours of enjoyment from there and hope you do the same.

http://ballbustingtales.blogspot.com/

Shattering Clay

Hey Guys!: This story contains explicit depictions of a consensual encounter turning more brutal than the bustee wanted which can be uncomfortable for some. Reader discretion advised.

EXTREME VIOLENCE. Reader discretion advised.  This story is not for everyone. Please do not ignore this warning and then complain in the comments section.

Clay’s hulking frame easily towered over most of the other men, and all of the women, at The Firm. The Firm was a relatively upscale martini bar in the neighboring town that catered to up and coming professionals and was quite the departure from the blue collar bars 21 year old Clay typically visited. But this particular Saturday night, the small town jock was up for something, and someone, new and fresh and new instantly upon walking in he had found it.

The Firm was filled with attractive, confident-looking young men and women, dressed in stylish blazers and form fitting cocktail dresses, laughing and dancing while drinking expensive martinis. Clay made his way to the bar, a brightly lit steel and glass affair that wrapped along every wall of the club, trying his best to sway his hulking frame in rhythm to the blaring pop music.

When he got to the bar, he ordered a cocktail and sipped it as he surveyed his surroundings. He was well dressed, by his standards, but wasn't nearly as gentlemen quarterly as the other young men. But he exuded such an air of border-line cocky self confidence, that he seemed right at home at The Firm nonetheless. Clay was six foot six with a strong, husky build. He wasn't particularly muscular, but his well filled, proportioned frame still made him quite intimidating. His face was youthful, still in transition between being ‘boyishly handsome’ and ‘ruggedly handsome’. He had a fairly large nose, but most people looked beyond that, captivated by his alluring, piercing blue eyes. His head was bald, and along with a seemingly permanent - though not intentionally threatening - scowl on his face, made him look like a marine or police officer. Overall Clay was reasonably attractive, his large size and confidence making up for his lack of a gorgeous face.

But despite his cockiness, Clay was feeling out of his element among the beautiful people at The Firm, though you would have never been able to tell from the sly, devil-may-care grin he had as he people watched.
He had come to The Firm with a mission: find and fuck the hottest girl in Central City, another notch in his belt, without the hookup becoming fodder for the rumor mill back home. Although Jamestown was only an hour’s drive from Central City, they were worlds apart. Everyone knew everyone in small Jamestown. No one knew anyone in Central City. If tonight went well, he concluded, this could very well be the beginning of a new chapter in his sexual life. He’d be the cute ‘farm boy’ who would take home and ravage a different big city bimbo every night of the week, all without his girlfriend in Jamestown ever finding out. This was a perfect plan.

Although not every woman at The Firm was Clay’s type, he couldn’t deny they were all very pretty. All of them were well dressed, had flawless faces and shapely bodies. But Clay fixated the most on the women who had the quality he liked best in a women; large breasts. Clay had been a breast man for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know exactly what it was about breasts that turned him on so much, but if it were ever between fucking a relatively unattractive girl with large breasts, or a smokin’ hot one with small breasts, Clay would chose the big boobed option every time. But even small breasts were a turn on in a pinch; feeling a nice firm pair of tits in his big, strong hands always got Clay hard, as did swirling his tongue over the nipples of large breasts , or sandwiching his dick between two mounding breasts and pumping away until he blew a load all over her face. Luckily for Clay, The Firm had no shortage of large breasted women.

The first woman who caught his eyes was a breathtakingly gorgeous red head in a skin tight black dress, she smiled at him as she danced with her friends. Another, a shapely short blond with flowing hair and enormous breasts relative to her small frame was suggestively licking her finger and beckoning Clay toward her. Clay had stood to walk toward her but instantly sat back down when a black man who was even larger than he wrapped his arm around her and ushered the drunken young lady off the dance floor. This long distance flirting and eye contact with various girls continued while Clay finished his second drink. By his third cocktail, he was feeling loose enough to make his move. He had been catching the eye of a well dressed brunette in an attractive white dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her over flowing cleavage. A slit on the leg of her dress revealed a luscious, perfectly tanned thigh and Clay could only imagine what it would be like to lick and suck his way up her thigh, stopping briefly at her pussy, before plunging his face into her chest while fucking her brains out, her svelte form pinned against the bed by his powerful body as she screamed and begged for more…. Clay felt his short, yet comically thick, cock stiffen in his slacks as he eye fucked her from across the bar. Let’s go for it! He chanted to himself as he swigged the last of his martini and made his way over to her, his walk even more of a swagger than usual.

–

“Oh God, he’s coming this way,” Chelsea sighed, laughing as she sipped her cocktail.

“Well you’ve been flirting with him for like an hour. What did you expect,” Zelda laughed.

Zelda and Chelsea were also out in Central City for a change of pace from their home a short drive away. But unlike Clay, their intentions were far less focused on sex. Instead the two single twenty-five year olds were just out to people watch, have a few drinks and pretend to be big city divas for a night before returning to their day to day lives.

Chelsea had recognized Clay immediately when he entered the club as her friend’s boyfriend, but it was obvious Clay didn’t recognize her, probably because the few times they had met Clay had been his usual drunken self. Chelsea and Zelda were surprised that Heather, Clay’s girlfriend, wasn’t’ with him but they quickly realized why. From their perch at a high top table along a wall, they had watched Clay dance and make out with at least a dozen large chested women before finally landing at the bar, which is where Chelsea and Clay first made eye contact.

Chelsea had been flirting with him, literally playing with his emotions, just waiting for the moment he would have he epiphany that not only did he already know her, but that she was one of his girlfriend’s good friends. But Clay, in usual fashion, was too obtuse to make the connection. Instead, he misinterpreted Chelsea and Zelda’s giggling at his dense ignorance as flirting.

“What a block head, he has to realize I’m going to tell Heather about this…”

Chelsea’s voice trailed off as her mind began to formulate a plan.

“He doesn’t recognize you. Go ahead, mind fuck him a bit before you drop the bomb.” Zelda chuckled, unable to believe Clay was so stupid.

“Shh. Here he comes,”

Chelsea straightened her skirt and gave Clay a coy smile as he approached, looking — even she had to admit — quite dapper in his filled out blazer and slacks.

“Hi. I’m Clay. Can I say what a pleasure it is to meet you…”

“Chelsea. Nice to meet you too, Clay.”

Clay was surprisingly adept at conversation despite - or perhaps because of - the three martinis he had. Zelda stayed mostly out of the conversation, confident any minute Clay would realize the trouble he was in for hitting on his girlfriend’s friend. Chelsea and Clay went on for nearly twenty minutes, Clay becoming slowly more and more forward as he at times openly licked his lips while looking down into her shirt. Chelsea even went to far as to drop hints, such as mentioning a party she had attended at Sleepy Hallow State Park where she and Clay had met a year earlier, but Clay was still oblivious, chatting up Chelsea like she was fresh meat ripe for the taking.

Zedla growing tired of the charade, politely excused herself and disappeared into the crowd to mingle.
“Your friend is nice. Very pretty. Not as nice as you, though,” Clay started when Zelda was barely out of earshot.

Chelsea found herself growing embarrassed that she was actually falling for Clay’s cliche, yet charming, pickup lines despite the fact that she knew he was an unequivocal man whore. As their chat stretched to nearly an hour, Chelsea decided that the free drinks from Clay and mildly amusing, albeit shallow conversation weren’t enough to keep her at the table any more. She was just about to blurt out “I know Heather, dumb ass” when Clay abruptly changed the topic of conversation.

“So, whadda’ ya’ say? Do you live around here? How about a night cap?”

Chelsea was incredulous. Clay, a partnered man, was blatantly hitting on his girlfriend’s friend and was now asking her to sleep with him. It was beyond ridiculous.

“Oh, I thought you said you were seeing someone,” she lied, hoping Clay would show some shred of dignity and back away.

Clay’s lips curled into a goofy grin and he laughed casually, “Nah, I’m a free man. Playing the field, for lack of a better phrase. Just trying to find my Mrs. Right,”

Chelsea had to bite her lip not to call him a whore and end the conversation, but she only nodded and smiled, concealing the growing anger she was feeling toward Clay. Even Chelsea had to admit her friend Heather could be a bit crass at times and, in different circumstances she could even have sympathized with Clay wanting to move on. But he could have at least had the courtesy to tell Heather before going out to fuck half the county. How long had this been going on? How many diseases had Clay recklessly exposed Heather to? It was a appalling. Chelsea’s blood was boiling as she tried her best to keep up the pretty, vapid bimbo persona Clay seemed to like so much.

“So, Clay. A handsome, strong man like you. I’m sure you don’t stay single very long,”

She reached across the table and put her hand on his strong bicep.

“Well yeah, I’ve been broken up with my girl for a while now though. Been dating off on and on a few years,”

Chelsea had to look away to avoid Clay seeing her uncontrollable eye roll. So he had been ‘dating’, as in fucking around, for a few years at least. Chelsea felt a deep rage building against the handsome blue eyed man sitting across from her.

“Yeah, her name was Heather. Such a pretty name for such a slut. I had to let her go,” Clay finished the last part laughing and finishing his beer.

Chelsea couldn’t believe it. Heather was alone in Jamestown whilst Clay was out living it up in Central City while calling her a slut. The irony was too thick for words. Chelsea was becoming more upset with Clay as he prattled on. He was perfectly good looking and could carry on a decent conversation. Why on Earth would be feel the need to be such a sleaze. Typical man… Her growing anger coalesced around a single word: Revenge.

“So, what do you say we go back to my place,” Chelsea nearly blurted out.
Her subconscious mind had been hatching a plan that her conscious mind was only just now aware of. No doubt all the alcohol was helping to weaken her brain-to-mouth filter.
Clay’s blue eyes lit up and his cock jumped.
“Sure, let’s blow this Popsicle stand,” Clay said standing, extending his arm to Chelsea and escorting her out of the club in true gentlemanly fashion. How pathetically ironic, she thought.

–

Chelsea’s apartment door had barely closed before Clay grabbed an arm in each of his large hands and pulled her in for a kiss. Although he lacked well defined musculature, his large size still meant he was quite strong especially compared to the five foot five Chelsea. She yelped and he instantly let go, realizing that in his drunken state he was being too rough. He let go of her and a look of genuine concern came across his face.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he had barely finished his sincere apology before she had jumped into his open arms. He caught her and she wrapped her legs around his torso.

“I like it rough,” she whispered as she licked his ear.

Clay smiled, precum leaking from the head of his cock, and he carried her into the bedroom, not parting lips until she was laying on the bed.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” Clay gasped breathlessly as he peeled off her dress.

Her breasts were large, quite perky and utterly delicious. He was literally drooling as he leaned in to suck her nipples. Meanwhile, she removed his pants, letting his cock flop freely. It was now completely hard, only four inches long but literally as thick as a beer car. A pair of heavy, oblong nuts hanging in a bag covered in dense blonde hair. Although he was sweaty, Clay actually smelled very good and for a moment Chelsea almost found herself forgetting her master plan…

“Oh baby!” Clay moaned as they progressed from heavy petting to all out fucking.

Cheleas’s pussy opened up completely to take his fat cock and, once he was in, she expertly contracted her muscles, squeezing and milking Clay. He usually lasted quite a while, but Chelsea seemed determined to make him cum as quickly and as hard as possible.

“Oh … you’re so… hot”

Clay and Chelsea fucked like animals, Clay’s deep voice reduced to guttural, squealing moans of pleasure as Chelsea went to town servicing the beefy stud.

“Oh? What’s this now?” Clay stopped his piston like slamming into Chelsea to pick up a shiny pair of hand cuffs on the night stand.

He had been so occupied at trying to nut in the attractive young woman, he hadn’t really noticed the furniture or decorations in the room around him. Chelsea’s face flushed in embarrassment as he held up the trick hand cuffs. She grabbed them from him and quickly closed one around his wrist, then the post of the bed. Clay smiled and willingly offered up his other wrist that she quickly shackled to the other post.

“Oh yeah, baby. I’ve been a naughty boy.”

Clay’s cock was rock hard at the prospect of being at the ‘mercy’ of this petite woman. Despite his imposing stature, Clay was very submissive in the bedroom, willing to do pretty much anything — within reason — as long as it meant he got to feel a handful of tit and his cock inside a warm, wet pussy. There was also something weirdly hot to him about being restrained, totally at the mercy of another person, though he didn’t’ know why.

“Yeah you have, Mr. Ward. Now you’ve gotta eat out my dripping wet pussy until I gush,”

Clay’s cock twitched as Chelsea squatted over Clay’s handsome face until her pussy was right over his mouth.

“Mmmm. So what happens if I can’t make you squirt,” Clay licked his lips and inhaled Chelsea's sweet odor.

“Oh, I’ll think of something,”

Clay stuck out his tongue and sent it plunging into Chelsea. He was in heaven as his thick tongue played inside the same hole his cock had been slamming just moments ago. His arms instinctively tried to reach up to grab her tits while he tongued her, but he couldn’t move them from the posts. Chelsea, figuring she might as well enjoy Clay’s truly talented tongue before proceeding with her plan, threw her head back and enjoyed the ride, bobbing slightly up and down effectively fucking herself with Clay’s tongue.

“Mmm baby!” she moaned; Clay was very good at this.

Clay plunged his tongue all the way into her pussy, licking and swirling and giving her so much pleasure she nearly forgot her plan. She focused, trying to ignore her growing orgasm , as she balled her fists and rose them, one each, over Clay’s huge, harry nuts. She counted down in her mind from ten and, when she hit one, sent both fists crashing down into Clay’s balls. There was a loud, wet SPLAT as her fists collided with and slightly compressed the sweaty orbs. Clayton gasped, but didn’t stop his tonguing, though his back did arch in pain.

She slammed her fist into his balls again and this time Clayton pulled his tongue out and yelped.
“Not so rough, baby,” he said gasping, a sickening knot had formed in the pit of his stomach from the pain.

Chelsea didn’t’ turn to see it, but knew Clay’s blue eyes were probably scrunched in pain.

“Uh oh, you’d better make me squirt,” she said, her tone soft yet threatening.

SPALT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

“Oh God!” Clay screamed, his legs bucking, though he was careful not to kick her lest he spoil the sex game.

“Please, not so hard,”

SPLAT! SPLAT!

I’d better hurry and make her cum, Clay thought to himself sticking his tongue back inside her. Chelsea continued to pound into Clay’s nuts with her fists, enjoying the sensation of feeling them flatten against the firm mattress. Clay, for his part, was trying to ignore the pain, concentrating all his focus on the gorgeous, delicious pussy right in front of his face. His face was contorted in pain though as his stomach knotted into a dull, painful ache with each blow. Clay actually liked having his balls squeezed and tugged during sex, but this was much, much harder. It almost seemed like she was really trying to hurt him.

“Oh! Baby please!” He shrieked as she suddenly began slamming her fists one after another, focusing on his swelling right nut.

Chelsea, despite her disgust toward Clay, was getting incredibly aroused by his expert tongue and the feeling of mashing his balls. The harder she struck them, the more turned on she was. How hot would it be to crush his nuts right as I’m cumming? She thought.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

“Oh God!” Clay said, starting to struggle against his bonds as Chelsea continued to drive her fists into his defenseless nuts.

She stopped briefly and grabbed his still hard, dripping cock and used his precum as a lube as she stroked with one hand while grabbing his left nut with the other. Clay sighed at the reprieve and could tell he was close to getting Chelsea off. Little did he know though, it wasn’t his tongue that was doing it for her the most , it was the feeling of having his vulnerable, squishy nuts right in front of her that was getting her off.

She gently squeezed his left nut, which was more Clay’s liking, and he knew he was close to spewing his load. Meanwhile, Chelsea was carefully examining Clay’s left nut in her fingers, squeezing here and there to see if any part of the enormous ball was softer or firmer than others. It seemed uniformly firm, and very dense. Clays’ nuts were the heaviest, densest balls she had ever felt. She squeezed a bit harder, then harder and almost exploded on Clay’s face when she felt her fingers starting to flatten the unyielding orb. Clay moaned at the ball play, which was continuing while Chelsea was continuing to stroke his cock…

“Oh… oh… I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” they both screamed in near unison.

A jet of cum exploded upward from Clay’s cock nearly three feet into the air, leaving a gooey sticky mess all over his broad torso when it landed with a splatter. He shot again, and again — each larger than the last - - as he felt Chelsea orgasming all over his face. Clay’s back arched and his legs convulsed as a powerful orgasm overtook him. Chelsea could feel Clay’s bloated left nut contracting with each spurt and thought how nice it would have been to simply crush it in her hands right then and there.. but that would wait.

“Oh baby,” Clay said gasping for breath after his explosive cum shots subsided.

Chelsea let Clay lick her pussy clean before laying in the bed next to him.

“Let’s do that again,” she said breathlessly, still grasping his swelling nut in her hand.

She applied a quick squeeze that caused the still panting hunk to yelp. These are going to be so much fun to crack, she thought, as she rolled his nut in her hands.
-
It had been a week since Clay and Chelsea first met and he had made a trip to visit her each night, despite the drive from Jamestown, in order to get his hands on her breasts and his tongue in her hole. He fucked Chelsea in every position imaginable, and despite pounding her like his life depended on it, always held her tenderly in his arms. it was as if he knew his large size meant he had to treat everyone gingerly. Chelsea on the other hand, squeezed, tugged and beat Clay’s nuts relentlessly, Clay thinking it was only rough play , but being too smitten by her to forcefully ask her to stop. During their multiple meetings, he never once mentioned Heather or too many details about his life Chelsea hadn’t already gleaned from their conversation at The Firm.

It was now Friday night and Chelsea, playing on what appeared to be genuine attachment Clay was developing for her, convinced him to rent a romantic cabin in the woods outside of town. Clay left without telling anyone where he was going; for all anyone knew he had gone to Central City for one of his ‘work’ trips.

“This is a cute place…” Clay had barely closed the cabin door before Chelsea was down on her knees unbuckling his jeans.

“Oh yeah, baby,” he leaned against the door as Chelsea proceeded to lick and stroke his cock until it was fully hard.

Despite being relatively short, it was so thick she had trouble getting the whole thing in her mouth at once, but Clay appreciated the effort nonetheless and rewarded her with a spurt of steamy precum. The two went on for hours, Clay getting so horny from the marathon foreplay that he eventually simply picked Chelsea up like a sack of potatoes and carried her into the bedroom as she laughed and pretended to fight back. He threw her on the bed in feigned dominance and proceeded to climb on top of her. His leaking, fat cock was just about to penetrate her well stretched hole when she put a finger on his lips and said, “I think you should be on the bottom. I want to ride you.”

“Yes ma’am”! Clay flopped places with her and was soon on his back, spread eagle. His broad, husky body was incredibly vulnerable, Chelsea thought. What a shame though. Clay actually was a tiger in bed, and despite not being very muscular, his broad, well proportioned and powerful body was still very hot.

“Wait, I want to get something,”

She left the room returned with her overnight bag. She pulled out four pair of what Clay assumed were trick hand cuffs and Clay readily let himself be tied to the bed posts, only this time even his legs were tied,forcing his thick legs wide apart and totally exposing his sex life to Chelsea's every whim.

“You know what I’m gonna’ do to you, Clay?” she said in an airy voice.

Clay’s cock jumped

“Mmm, what’re you gonna’ do to me, ma’am?” he licked his lips and winked at her, wanting desperately for her to lean in and kiss him, letting her breasts rub against his pecs.

“Well, for starters I’m going to teach you a lesson about cheating on Heather. And how many other women have you done that to?”

It took Clay a moment to realize what she had said, then his face went pale.

“What? What are you talking about? How do you know… AAAH!”

Clay’s back arched in pain Chelsea proceeding to slam her fist into his totally defenseless right ball with a loud SPLAT. She could feel the ball comperes slightly under her fist and he could feel a dull ache building in his stomach coupled with a sharp, stinging pain.

“You’re a pig, Clay. Always will be. We can’t have that,”

SPLAT! SPLAT!

Tears were streaming down Clay’s face as the dull ache became a shooting pain. Who was this woman and how did she know Heather. Clay went to twist his wrist, that normally unlocked the handcuffs but they stayed tightly shut.

“Oh, those are real, Clay.” she said laughing as she left the room.

Clay, now in a panic, struggled to get free, or at least close his legs but the handcuffs stopped him from doing anything. Chelsea was gone for what seemed like a long time and he could here her rustling around the cabin as if gathering supplies, though for what Clay couldn’t be sure. Clay’s arms were growing tired from his fruitless struggling, but the handcuffs didn’t budge.

Finally, she emerged carrying her overnight bag which was obviously now stuffed with much more than clothes.

“Wha-what is that?” Clay asked, his voice shaking in genuine fear.

Chelsea laughed at the look of terror that seemed to be sapping the life out of his usually sparklingly, playful blue eyes.

“Oh, just a few things.”

Chelsea let the bag drop with a loud clank, the mystery objects within rattling about. She bent down and fetched a meat tenderizer from the bag along with a spool of bandages she had swiped from the bathroom. She approached him with slow, deliberate steps, thoroughly enjoying the shameless terror in Clay’s eyes.
Without saying a word, she straddled his midsection facing his waist and proceeded to tightly bandage his nuts at the base of the sack so that the huge organs bulged obscenely against the pale skin of his sack. The resulting tugging was uncomfortable, but not particularly painful to Clay, his heart pounding as she wound the bandage tighter and tighter.

“Wha- please. Please don’t hurt me,”

Every ounce of tough guy bravado was gone as Clay whimpered and pleaded. Even the tone of his voice seemed different, a higher octave, like a frightened teenager instead of the confident young man from moments before. Despite his size, Clay was shaking like a leaf under the petite Chelsea.

“Ah, that should do. Wouldn’t want them to get away,” Chelsea admired her handiwork as she set the bandages aside.

Clay’s hens egg sized nuts were both so tightly bound at the base that they were turning beet red. There was no way the defenseless baby makers would be able to retreat back into the safety of Clay’s body…
She chuckled as she picked up the meat tenderizer and positioned it over Clay’s bloated sack.

“You know, Clay. All you had to do was not be pig,”

She didn’t give the helpless stud a chance to react before she sent the mallet plunging into his sack. The over sized head of the tenderizer violently compressed Clay’s testicles, the membranes of which were struggling to stay firm.

“OH GOD!” Clay screamed, barely registering the deep, radiating pain of the first blow before the mallet came down again, biased toward his left nut.

SPL-A-T!

SPLAT!

Chelsea was enjoying the ride of Clay’s bucking body as he tried desperately to free himself, but she didn’t let it distract her from sending the mallet down into the abused organs again and again and again, with barely no time between blows to give poor Clay a chance to recover. Clay was sobbing and begging Chelsea to stop, to show mercy, but that only seemed to make Chelsea more determined to crush his balls. A deep, throbbing pain built up in Clay’s stomach and he thought he was going to heave. He had never experienced anything so terrible in his life…

SPLAT! SPLAT!

Chelsea could feel that Clay’s balls were starting to flatten, becoming less resistant with each blow, but she couldn’t stop. Clay bucked like a wild animal under her, but his strength was starting to wane as his brain started shutting down, unable to process the tremendous, throbbing pain coming from between his legs.

“Please! Please don’t hurt me no more,” he barely managed to get out in a voice hoarse from inhumane screaming.

Chelsea threw down the mallet and grabbed one of Clay’s swollen balls in each hand. She had been pounding them flat for ten minutes and it was obvious permanent damage was starting to happen. His right ball in particular was much softer and easier to compress than the left, and welts now marred the surface of his once proud, flawless sack. Clay’s nuts were swollen to twice their regular size and Chelsea could feel them throbbing with each heart beat. As she rolled and squeezed his gonads in her examination, a whimpering Clay pleaded with her to let him go.

“Please, I don’t — let me go,”

His sobbing was starting to annoy Chelsea and she was able to quickly replace it with a loud yelp as she started squeezing her hands. Her petite hands pressed and crushed into Clay’s collapsing nuts as hard as she could, but it was obvious even the assaulted nut tissue was too sturdy for her. She briefly released them as she plotted her next move, smiling evilly as she recalled their first night together and how hot she imagined it would be to crush his junk in her bare hands. She grabbed Clay’s battered right nut and sandwiched it between both hands and squeezed like she was trying to juice a lemon.

Clay’s mouth formed a large ‘O’, though no sound came out as he struggled to even comprehend the pain. His beautiful blue eyes crossed in agony as she pressed and squeezed, determined to feel the satisfying sensation of Clay’s ball splitting in her hands. She was getting wet imagining what it would be like to feel half of Clay’s manhood literally bursting in her hands.

“Ooooh!” he wailed approaching unconsciousness.

Chelsea’s twat got wet as she felt her hands starting to compress further together. She had been relentlessly squashing Clay’s nut for nearly five minutes and was sure she was starting to feel it breaking under the pressure. Her face was red with effort, and frustration, as his ball flattened noticeably but didn’t break. Just when Clay thought he was going to pass out, he felt a rush of relief as she let go of his aching testicle and hopped off the bed. He was panting heavily, unsure what was going to happen next, as she fetched something out of her bag.

“No! Please God! No!” Clay begged, his voice shaking in terror when he saw what she was carrying.
Chelsea was on her knees between Clay’s wide spread legs holding a pair of pliers. She held them, jaws open, in front of her breasts licking her lips as she closed the jaws, showing Clay that they wouldn’t stop until they were touching all the way. He sobbed, not even trying to beg, as he felt the jaws ensnare his engorged right nut. Chelsea slowly tighten the pressure around the huge ball, feeling the pliers effortlessly compressing the ball meat. She kept closing the jaws, making Clay’s ball get flatter and flatter, dimpling at the peripheries as the contents of the sack were compressed to their limit.

Clay’s mind was going hazy. Chelsea was looking directly into his eyes… and laughing. How could she be laughing? He thought. Here he was, totally at her mercy, sobbing, begging. Pleading. His eyes were begging for mercy and all she could do was laugh? What kind of monster was this?

He could feel his nut getting dangerously flat and expected it would suddenly burst from the pressure. Then it stopped. Chelsea let the right nut go and quickly had the pliers around the swollen left ball. She alternated from ball to ball, enjoying the feeling of the ball meat flattening and compressing like overstuffed water balloons that were about to pop. She looked down at the helpless, hulking young man and enjoyed how utterly she was able to dominate him. Chelsea knew his left nut wasn’t going to last much longer, so she purposefully let it go, wanting the torture to proceed for a while.

“I’m going to give you a bit to rest,” she said casually leaving the room.

She left Clay to stew in his thoughts for what seemed like hours, though Clay couldn’t be for certain. He cried softly to himself, panicked that he would never see his mom or his brothers or any of his friends again. And would anyone even know to look for him? He had left town without telling anyone where he was going. Was this monstrous bitch going to kill him quickly or keep torturing him? Would it hurt to die? Clay was reduced to a blubbering, exhausted wretch by the time a still-naked Chelsea finally returned to the bedroom.

“Ready for round two?” she grinned to herself.

Clay, who had had some time to compose himself, was able to get out a relatively calm, articulate plea for mercy.

“Chelsea. Please don’t hurt me. I don’t wanna’ die. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m so sorry…”

Clay had never been more sincere in his life, but she ignored him as she rummaged around in the bag. She grabbed a cheese grater and the mallet from earlier and climbed onto the bed, straddling his face with her pussy.

Despite himself, Clay was getting turned on by the smell of her wet pussy in his face.

“Mmm. You’d better use that tongue of yours if you know what’s good for you,”

Clay’s tongue plunged into Chelsea and he licked, sucked and swirled his tongue like his life literally depended on it.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

Clay gagged as he felt his testicles being pounded under the mallet.

“Did I say you could stop?”

SPLAT! SPL-A-T!

Clay tried his best to satisfy Chelsea despite the fiery pain in his balls. He knew she was really doing permanent damage to him and his brain was cloudy with pain and fear. But he kept going, hoping she’d show him mercy if he got her to gush like he was able to so many times before. To his relief, it seemed to be working. The time between hits to the balls was getting longer as his excerpt tongue was distracting Chelsea.

“Oh you like that, baby?” he said breathlessly, trying his best to sound sexy, hoping to win sympathy from her.

“Oh! Oh yea!” she screamed in  ecstasy as she rose the mallet far above her head and sent it crashing down.

“No! Nooooo!”

SP-L-A-A-T!

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

Clay was getting sick to his stomach. He was trying desperately to make her cum, but it seemed the more turned on she got, the harder and more determined she was to destroy his manhood. Clay could feel his nuts were cracking. The left was taking longer to plump back up and the right had taken on a permanently flattened look.

“Oh, I don’t wanna’ be having all the fun,”

She set down the mallet and grabbed Clay’s short, thick cock with her hand and started stroking. Although he felt like his balls had literally been flattened, Clay quickly got hard. He sobbed in embarrassment as his cock betrayed him, growing its full rock hard length in a matter of minutes. Chelsea grabbed the cheese grater and held it against the length of Clay’s fat cock. Clay twitched at the feeling of the icy metal against his skin and had barely registered what it was before Chelsea started slowly grinding it back and forth.

“Aaaaagh!” Clay screamed.

Chelsea nearly squirted on Clay’s face as she felt the grater slicing into Clay’s proud cock. Clay was screaming and writhing under her like a dying animal, each back and forth of the cheese grater being interjected with a sensual stroke of his now bloody cock by her hand. His blood made an effective, and macabre, lubricant, as she jerked him closer and closer to cumming. Clay was sure he was going to black out as the grater lay waste to his truly beautiful, fat cock, digging in with its sharpened blades like teeth.

“Oh hey, I think you’re close,”

Chelsea had held Clay’s cumming cock enough to know when he was about to blow. Driven totally by instinct, and with no pleasure whatsoever, Clay’s cock, half of which was now reduced to shredded gore by the grater, was starting to twitch.

“Oh! OOOh!”

Clay screamed as a small, pink tortured load erupted from his half destroyed cock. His still bound nuts throbbed horribly as they attempted to contract into his body with the cum shot. While his cock was still spurting, Chelsea fetched the bandages from earlier and tightly wrapped his bloody cock in it, wrapping it tightly to stem the bleeding. After all, she concluded, she didn’t want him bleeding out… yet. Clay’s brain was awash in the pleasure of an orgasm and the pain of having his cock grated. He prayed to black out or for Chelsea to be satisfied with what she’d done so far and just leave him alone…

Clay’s head was thrashing back and forth violently, desperately looking for a way out as Chelsea casually fetched a length of twine from her bag. She tied the twine tightly around the base of Clay’s nuts and proceeded to walk slowly away from the bed, tugging on his balls as she went.. Clay instinctively arched his back to try to lesson the tension, but tied to the bed as he was, could barely move.

The twine was starting to dig into the flesh of his balls as she pulled the length further and further, causing Clay’s bloated sack to be tugged several inches from his body. Clay’s eyes bugged and he screamed continuously, knowing now that Chelsea wasn’t going to stop until his nuts were history. When his nuts were stretched nearly five inches further out than normal, Chelsea casually released the twine. The feeling of blood rushing back into his testicles was a burning relief to the now nearly unconscious Clay. Chelsea walked over to the bed to inspect the damage.

The twine was sharp, and had started to bite into the skin of his scrotum, but it hadn’t done significant damage. She realized that Clay was starting to black out so she, not wanting him to miss out on the finale, left the room to give him time to rest. Clay couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but it felt to be at least an hour. He had fallen asleep, exhausted from his struggling and overwhelmed with pain. His dream was a calming phantasmagoria, as if he was mentally preparing for another round of torture. He was back in his apartment, his dog Max begging for attention at his feet. He bent down and swooped up the little brown mutt and giggled as he felt Max’s tongue lick his face. Clay set down the dog after what seemed to be a few minutes and began looking over pictures on his mantle. The dream mantle was impossibly long, lined with photographs of seemingly every person, pet and sentimental object Clay had ever met or seen.

“Oh, Josh. I love you so much, buddy,” dream Clay started crying softly when he happened across a picture of his teenage brother. A wave of dread washed over him as he remembered that the last words he had said to Josh were ‘I hate you’ over what was in the grand scheme a totally trivial argument.

This is it, isn’t it? Clay thought to himself as he started to wake up, “She’s gonna’ kill me and I’ll never see any of them again,”

Clay awoke some time later, his head almost too groggy to immediately register the now fiery, burning pain coming from between his legs. He looked over to see Chelsea standing over the bed holding the mallet.

“No…” he whimpered.

“Ah, you’re awake. I thought you were dead,”

Clay shuddered at the casualness she was taking about his immanent death.

“Please. Please don’t…. AAAH!”

Chelsea unceremoniously sent the mallet crashing into his still bound ball sack, particularly flattening the left nut.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPL—A–T!

She pounded on his nuts with the forcefulness of pounding a nail into a board, for five minutes until she could feel his ridiculously swollen, blue-black right ball seemed to burst in the sack with a barely audible, but still satisfying wet CRUNCH.

“OH GOD!”

Clay wasn’t even granted the mercy of passing out from the incredible pain. Meanwhile Chelsea threw down the mallet and grasped the right side of his sack with both hands, kneading and squeezing the ruined orb. It had fractured into two, still firm halves. But that wasn’t enough damage, she thought.

She ran from the room and returned a short while later with the small clothes iron from the cabin’s bathroom. She plugged it in and set it to high, holding the heating metal plate just inches from Clay’s sack.

Clay was convulsing from the pain of his fractured right nut, his brain too overwhelmed to even processes the new sensation as heat waves radiated from the metal plate that Chelsea was bringing closer. Closer and closer…

SSSSIIIIIISSSSSS–

“OOOOH!” Clay screamed so loud that for a moment even Chelsea was taken aback, but she continued to hold the plate firmly against Clay’s roasting scrotum.

The metal plate made a high pitched hissing and sizzling as the smell of singed hair and burning flesh filled the room. It seemed like the hulking, trapped jock was going to rip the bed apart he was pulling so hard on the constraints, but he remained firmly at Chelsea’s mercy. She could feel her twat getting wet, but ignored her pleasure to stay concentrated on the task at hand.

SSSSIIISSS….

She held the heavy, scalding hot iron on his balls for several minutes, though to Clay it felt like eternity, before withdrawing it quickly and tossing it to the floor. She smiled wickedly at the results of the nut roasting; his once beautiful sack was now free of the top several layers of skin. The patch of blonde hair was completely gone, singed away by the iron. Oozing wounds marred the entire surface of his still hot to the touch ball sack. Clay was reduced to a whimpering, nearly comatose mess and for a brief moment Chelsea – sure he was already sterilized – considered simply leaving the cabin. But the thought was banished and she literally laughed to herself when she remembered what else she had thrown into her bag of impromptu torture devices.

Ignoring Clay’s begging, Chelsea pulled a tube of Bengay from the bag and squirted nearly the entire amount onto her hand. She balled her petite hand into a fist, climbed on the bed between Clay’s legs, made cruel eye contact with his desperate, handsome eyes and rammed her fist straight between his legs into his asshole.
Clay had never been fucked, and certainly never fisted, so the painful stretching was almost too much for him to bare. He had just registered the violating, sickening plunging of her fist when the wave of burning pain from the Bengay started to set in.

“AAAAAH! MY ASS!”

It felt as if Clay’s entire digestive system; from his anus up to his throat, was on fire. Even counting the pain his balls had gone through, he had never experienced anything so brutal. He was sobbing and pleading as Chelsea mercilessly fist fucked him until her arm was sore. When she finally pulled out, the damage was done. Blood trickled from between his tight ass cheeks and the Bengay that had been deposited up through his guts was still burning. Chelsea calmly wiped her slimy, bloodied fist and forearm on the bed sheets and picked up the mallet again.

Clay barely got out a whimper as he looked down, watching her pound his already charred sack over and over.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! CRUNCH!

Clay blacked out again and Chelsea almost orgasmed as she felt the already cracked right nut totally burst.
SP-A-A-T! SPLOSH SPLOSH

To be sure she focused the mallet head so that it came down directly on just the right ball and didn’t stop until the testicle was obviously reduced to a lumpy mush. She again threw down the mallet and grabbed the right side of the sack with her hands, squeezing and compressing, relishing in the feeling as she felt chunk after tortured chunk burst and collapse in her hands. The feeling was so incredible, she could hardly believe it, and she still had one more left.

Clay awoke to the stinging odor of smelling salts. The temporary rush of alertness only heightening the pain in his crotch. Chelsea looked down at him and smiled before climbing on top of him, straddling his chest facing his crotch. He could feel that she was rubbing a cold, gooey liquid all over his still-plump left nut. He couldn’t tell what it was but it had an oddly familiar odor he thought he recognized as…

“OH SHIT! NO! NOOOO!”

Chelsea ignored him as she picked up a match and lit his left nut on fire. She had rubbed it with fire starting gel, that Clay had brought with him in case he wanted to make a romantic fire, and she just sat and watched as his left nut bubbled and burned.

Clay’s bucking nearly knocked Chelsea off, but she just sat there continuing to watch his nut being roasted. The sperm and liquids inside were boiling and expanding rapidly.. too rapidly..

POP! TISSSSS! TISSS!

Ruptures started to appear all over Clay’s sack as the boiling contents started oozing out, forced out by the building steam.

“That should do,”

She began pounding the left nut with the large mallet. Although it was effectively putting out the small flames, it was also crushing Clay’s barely in tact last ball.

“Break! Break!”

She screamed in a rage as she sent the mallet into his last nut over and over. Clay’s manhood was entirely at her mercy. She could have stopped pounding the defenseless orb any time, but she wanted to feel the amazing sensation of a testicle rupturing under her mallet again…

Clay was screaming and struggling to get free but it was no use, Chelsea wasn’t going to stop pounding until…

CR-UU—NCH!

Clay nearly choked on vomit as he felt his last, huge ball finally implode.

Chelsea thought she was going to orgasm right then, but still had some things she wanted to do with Clay. She positioned herself so that she was literally fucking herself with his large nose. Clay, despite being delirious with pain, was getting aroused by the smell – though it was purely instinct. As she bobbed up and down, nearly suffocating him, he wasn’t getting any pleasure whatsoever. His entire world was now reduced to his two crushed balls. But Chelsea wasn’t done.

She moaned in pleasure, and he in delirious pain, with each plunge of her pussy onto his face, pounding his flattened sack with the mallet full force as she did.

“Oh! Oh! Yeah!”

She knew she was close and was now sending the mallet down so hard and so fast it was barely a blur. Clay’s nut sack split open as she continued to near orgasm. SPLAT! SPLOSH!

The mallet was now directly smashing Clay’s exposed, shattered testicles, sending chunks of the destroyed sex organs splattering upward. Clay passed out as his abs were covered by the gory remains of his ounce proud balls. His nuts reduced to a pulpy mess, Chelsea focused her attention on his cock.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SQUISH! SPLAT!

The defenseless, fat tool was still wrapped in bandages, but they did little to protect it as she pounded down on it like a giant nail. The thick, fat dong lasted only a few blows before she could feel it snap at the base. Then she just started hammering indiscriminately all over his crotch. There was literally nothing left. She kept comparing the splattered, unrecognizable mess in front of her to the once plump, huge eggs and thick, throbbing penis… the visual was so hot that she squirted all over Clay’s still blacked out face.

It took Chelsea several minutes to regain herself after what had been the most intense orgasm of her life. She hopped off just long enough to fetch a small chain, like a bicycle lock, from the bag, then returned to straddle his chest, only this time she was facing Clay’s face.

Clay looked like a handsome young man who was only sleeping, not passed out from the pain of being utterly de-sexed. She wrapped the chain around his neck, his well-built, beefy muscles powerless to stop her, and pulled. She could feel his throat being crushed, but he just lay there lifeless for a moment before jolting awake from a rush of adrenaline. His eyes bugged out and he struggled with renewed vigor, every ounce of strength going toward saving himself.

Chelsea only smirked and laughed, turned on at how utterly powerless the studly young man now was. She looked down at the dying bald idiot on the bed under her, her face red with determination as she held the chain loop tight against his throat. The whites of his eyes were turning pink and red from bursting blood vessels and his valiant bucking and attempts at escape were slowly starting to die down. Clay’s young, piercing blue eyes stared into hers pleadingly as they started to gloss over and lose their luster.

“Please! Please let me go,” Clay thought he was crying out, though in actuality his last breaths were making only gurgled, barely intelligible noises.

Tears of unimaginable sadness over everything he was about to lose ran down Clay’s pale cheek as he finally stopped struggling and went limp.

Chelsea snorted in contempt at the pathetic man under her perplexed by the coy, almost joyous grin his lifeless face was contorted in as his eyes stared up into nothing. She could only imagine what kind of sick final fantasy was playing in his mind… … …

Clay suddenly felt a rush of warm relief as Chelsea loosened the chain around his neck. He gasped, struggling to get enough air to satisfy his starved lungs and between gasped the bound jock could only get out muffled ‘thank yous’, as Chelsea undid his bounds.

“Thank you,” he gasped, holding his throat.

Chelsea lowered slightly, putting her luscious, firm tits just inches above Clay’s face. He smiled and reached out, gently rubbing and massaging each of her pert breasts in his strong hands. Despite everything, her breasts still felt amazing. He absolutely loved breasts and now, finally, he was getting to play with hers again.

Clay smiled, still weak from his earlier strangulation, and closed his eyes as Chelsea leaned in to kiss him. Clay’s lips curled into a coy, joyous grin as the world around him collapsed into black.