Crushing the Football Stud

The twilight air was crisp, the smell of fresh cut grass wafted in the breeze.  It was late summer, yet close enough to autumn that the day's earlier scorching temperatures had settled down to a much more comfortable, balmy late summer's evening.  Though fire flies were out and street lamps were coming on, the field at Jeffrey Lewis Memorial Football Field was lit up as if were the middle of the day.  The Cougars, the local minor league team, were hosting the Barracudas during the first invitational of the season.  Being a friendly invitational, the game didn’t actually effect the rankings, but the lack of technical importance of the outcome was far outweighed by the ceremonial importance.  The town and most of the cities around it weren't large enough for a national league stadium, so to the fans and players these games were just as important and riveting as a major league game.  It was almost a given that the hosting Cougars would, as usual, win against the Barracudas, setting the tone for the rest of the season.

While the cheering crowd was settling into their seats, Cougar quarterback James Taylor was on the sidelines giving his girlfriend a long, deep kiss before sliding on his helmet and taking the field. James had just turned twenty five and this was his third season with the Cougars. His tenure had been, at best, shaky.  Although he was a reasonably good player, it was obvious he didn't take the minor leagues as seriously as his teammates. He was late to practices,, laughed off losses and openly referred to the Cougars as his 'hobby', not the all-important football playing brotherhood the others regarded the team as.   His happy go lucky nature was also construed by some as arrogance, as if he was purposefully belittling something that was important to them.  The impression was misguided, but Jame's handsome, All-American jock appearance didn't help.  The rest of the team, though mostly in better shape than the general public, wasn't nearly to the level of a major league player.  James was.  He was only five foot eight, but his dense muscle mass made him heavier than he looked.  He had large, though not bulky muscles, powerful biceps, firm pecs and rippling abs.  He was a blonde, violet eyed tightly packed stud with a friendly, boyishly handsome face. But when he wasn't in his tight football uniform, he was in baggy jeans and loose fitting shirts, totally obscuring this well-maintained body; why show off, he thought, he already had a beautiful soon-to-be fiance.  The thought made James grin broadly as he ran onto the field.

He hadn't seen his girl all summer. She had left for Europe on holiday and had only landed that day -- right in time to see his his team's season debut, but too late in the day for him to unleash three months of pent up sexual urges before the game.  Jame's cock uncomfortably swelled, folding in the confines of his athletic cup, as he took the field.  The kiss had been a delicious precursor of the fun he was going to have as soon as the game was over. He was so horny we wasn't even going to waste time in the locker room afterward, just take her home, strip out of his uniform and have hot, sweaty sex right in the living room.

He licked his lips at the prospect and could feel the stud piercing on the head of his cock strike the inside of his cup.

"Crap," he uttered to himself.

For obvious reason he didn’t' like wearing his cock jewelry during games, but must have forgotten to take it off, and it was too late now, the game was staring...

--

"Really James?" Quinten, the team's de facto captain shouted to the back of James' head as he and his girlfriend made their way through the crowd to the parking lot.

James was oblivious to Quinten as he gave his girlfriend a piggyback ride to their car.  James had been dreaming of fucking his girl since the minute she got home, but the more they talked the more he realized how much he missed her and how badly he just wanted to talk and catch up.  James couldn't have been happier. He had just had a lot of fun playing football, his girlfriend was home and he was falling in love all over again. Unlike the rest of the team, the fact that the Cougars had just been crushed in their first game was of no consequence to James.  After all, whatever happened, happened.

"Can you believe that guy?" Quinten nearly screamed in exasperation to Carl, the team's hulking linebacker, as he approached.

"His head just wasn't in the game. Probably all horned up thinkin' about that bitch," Carl snorted.

Josh, the team's tall, muscular tight end,  joined the other two rolling his eyes "Are you guys riding James' ass again?"

"Yes," Quinten and Carl barked in unison.

Josh sighed, "Yeah, he was worse than usual. All those fumbles..."

"And the idiot actually carried the ball the wrong way during that last play," Quinten continued.

James had ran the ball the wrong way, much to the amusement of the crowd, on purpose for the last play of the game.  He figured he might as well get a laugh since the score was so hopeless by then anyway. Unfortunately, none of his teammates were as dismissive of the loss as he was.

The three continued on, joined by more and more players, until ten of James' most ardent dissenters had talked themselves into disliking the charismatic jock even more than they already did.

"We should do something about it," Josh said resoundingly, by then even the stadium lights had been turned off.

The ten men, huddled in darkness on the football field, cheered in approval, though no one had any idea on how to actually get James back for his apparent transgressions.

The following week the Cougars played their first actual game of the season.  James, and the rest of the team, were in much better form but were still handedly trounced by the visiting team.  The next game went no better.

It was the final seconds on the job and James was trying to position himself to deliver a nearly impossible hail Mary pass.  But with only seconds left on the clock, and no way to close the score gap, James wasn't exactly putting all of his effort into the attempt. His mind was wandering, thinking about what he was going to do with his girl after the game.  It was date night and...

BAM!

James was knocked rudely back into reality by an unnecessarily brutal tackle.  He looked up and saw only sky and the glare of one of the park's lights.  He had landed flat on his back, the game ending buzzer was going off. The Cougars had lost again...

"Ooh!" James screamed suddenly, clutching his crotch and rolling to his side.

The player had rammed his knee into Jame's bulging crotch during the tackle.  His athletic cup absorbed most of the shock, but the blow was hard enough that lingering vibrations still managed to knock around his delicate, medium sized nuts.  The cup had deflected just enough force to spare Jame's nuts from being cracked, but the delayed pain came on suddenly and a dull, painful ache filled the pit of the his stomach and his violet eyes crossed as his mouth took on a classic, comical 'O' shape.

The other player extended a hand to help James up, apologizing profusely as the blonde slowly got to his feet. James, his nuts still throbbing but not nearly as pained as if he hadn't been wearing the cup, smiled meekly and accepted the young looking opponent's apology before limping to the sidelines.

Most of the crowd had already left, figuring the game had been decided by the third quarter, so the stands were mostly empty.  James scanned them eagerly and his face broke into a goofy,youthful smile when he spotted his girlfriend waving at him.  Although James loved reliving his high school glory days on the field, and playing sports in general, he knew she wasn't as big of a football fan.  So he had been shamelessly showboating the entire game for her amusement and was pleased to see she was having fun. He took his helmet and leaped up the bleacher steps three at a time to meet her.  They walked, his calloused hand holding hers, toward the parking lot, waving politely at the other Cougar players who were gathering in a huddle on the sidelines.

"James, man! Where ya' going? Post-game huddle we have to..." Quinten began.

"Can't! I got a date tonight. We did good today, guys," James called back, not slowing down as he and his girl continued on their way.

"That guy!  If he doesn't want to be on the team why doesn't he just quit," Carl said, not even trying to hide his childish annoyance.

As was becoming the norm, the huddled players slowly but resolutely talked themselves into believing that the Cougar's entire problem was their 'bumbling', juvenile quarterback.

"We should teach his cocky ass a lesson," Josh said pointing his fist into his palm.

By now only ten players, stewing in their own self-righteous defeatism, remained. The same ten that had gone on a nearly endless anti-James rant after the first game.   Their tone over the previous games had become increasingly angry, bitter and violent.  Young James would have been shocked to see how deeply he was resented.

"You know, I have an idea," Travis interjected.

Travis was the largest Cougars player, a thirty year old six foot eight inches tall, incredibly dense man who looked like he could have picked up and snapped Jame's effortlessly in half, and probably would have if he could get away with it.

"I read a thing on the news about an angry wive that sabotaged her husband's sports cup before a wrestling match or something. It broken and really messed him up."

The other men grinned and laughed, imagining what would have happened to James if his trusty athletic cup had failed earlier.

"Oh yeah, what do you have in mind?"  Carl asked.

Travis scratched his head and looked up into the sky as if hoping for a ball-busting epiphany.  It must have come, because his rugged face broke into a devilish grin.

"I think I know just the trick.  We don't have a game next week, but Carl, could you call a team practice anyway? I have a little gift for James,"

No one knew what Travis had in mind, but judging just by the evil tone of his voice, it was going to be a fitting reward for James' buffoonery. Everyone cackled as the stadium lights, their timer expired, shut off.

--

James had been looking forward to a weekend away from the field, but didn’t' want to skip practice and upset the team.

"J-man," Carl greeted, convincingly faking being nice, as James jumped rope on the sidelines, his taught body bouncing up and down rapidly.

"Oh, hey Carl," James said smiling obliviously .

"What's goin' on man" You ready for a tough practice? I hear Quinten's gonna' put us through the ringer."

Carl began stretching as James increased his speed until the rope was a barely visible blur.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm more excited for tonight.  Me and my girl are trying,"

"Trying what?" Carl, who could have cared less about Jame's personal life, was still doing a convincing job feigning interest and making James feel like he was one of the guys.

"You know... trying.... for a baby," James was becoming breathless from the frenetic pace of jumping rope, and had to get out the relatively short sentence between gasps for air.

Carl's bushy eyebrows rose at this and he grinned to himself when he thought about what he and the other nine players who had been planning all week were going to do to James.

"Oh really?"

James, breathing heavily and his forehead dripping with sweat, stopped jump roping and turned to Carl.

"Yeah. She was all excited about it when she got back from her trip. I was spooked at first, not gonna' lie, but when I saw how happy it make her, It was like it was contagious. I just got super excited ya' know.  You have kids right?"

Carl nodded, smiling evilly which James misinterpreted as a showing of support from his supposed friend.

"Yes, two. Best thing that ever happened to me,"

"Yeah, I'm stoked! It's crazy, but I feel like I already love him and he's not even born yet. Hell, he hasn't even been made yet, but I love him. I really do..."  James' voice trailed off. Carl couldn't be sure, but it seemed like James was actually choking back tears.

Despite the young James' jejune way of expressing the sentiment, Carl knew exactly the feeling of excitement about being a new dad James was talking about and, for a split second, the smile on his face was genuine. Though it was just as quickly replaced by a smile of smug satisfaction, knowing he was about to permanently extinguish what was apparently the most important thing In Jame's life.

"I'm gonna' have a little family! Isn't that awesome!"  James beamed patting Carl on the shoulder before running onto the field to join the others.

What a sophomoric idiot, Carl thought to himself as he finished a hamstring stretch and walked onto the field.

The team had huddled around Travis and Quinten, Travis was holding a shiny, stainless steel athletic cup with several boxes behind him.

"Gentleman, after Jame's little mishap last week, Travis and I have decided to use some of the team's safety budget on these,"

Travis held up the athletic cup, which reflected the sun off its mirror-like, curved finish.

"These are some of the best athletic cups available," Travis made a fist and dramatically pounded into the cup with a clang.

"And we have other new equipment, pads, mouth guards, everything, coming in later.  But for now, grab a cup,"

Every grabbed a box and pulled out their shiny new cups.  James was about to reach for one when Carl handed him a box.

"Here, buddy, I grabbed one for you."

James smiled and thanked Carl for his thoughtfulness.

Within minutes, everyone had swapped out their old cups for the new, supposedly state of the art version.  James liked the padding of this cup against his thighs better than the old one and, after giving it several hard punches, was convinced it was a superior protection. His balls felt absolutely no residual vibration.

"Look at that idiot," Quinten snarled to Carl and Travis as they watched James giving himself a cup check.

"Little does he know," Travis chuckled.

The practice continued as normal, with everyone who was in on the revenge plan against James knowing to aim for the hunky athlete's crotch.  James didn’t seem to notice that more knees than usual were aiming at his crotch as he took tackle after tackle.  Despite the advanced cup, James was starting to feel a painful ache in his crotch, especially where the padding was touching his muscular thighs.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Travis thought to himself as he prepared to take a run at Travis.

Carl, playing his part in the plan, was on the far end of the field running back and forth to simulate being chased by other players.  James was so distracted by trying to line up a shot to the frantically moving target he didn’t' notice Travis' bulky frame running toward him until it was too late.  Travis bowed his head during the final few feet, sending the top of his helmet into Jame's crotch like a ram.

There was a devastating, hallow CRACK as Travis' head slammed into Jame's wide open crotch with so much force, Travis was genuinely alarmed he had snapped his own neck. James was knocked back several feet, landing on his back with a thud.

"OOOOH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

James screamed in a high pitched, girlish squeal, droning endlessly as he rolled on his back clutching his crotch.  The handsome footballer's usually happy face was contorted in a look of such agony even Carl twinged as he approached. Soon the ten players were standing over James, though no one was in a hurry to lend a hand. They were all entirely too delighted at the spectacle of the great James Taylor rolling in unspeakable agony on the ground.  The pain was so intense, his muscular legs were bucking as he desperately tried to comfort himself with his hands.  Tears streamed from his violet eyes like rivers.


"Okay, okay. Let's have a look,"  Quinten knelt down and pushed Jame's hands away from his crotch.

Despite his genuine revulsion toward James, Quinten, and several other of the watching crowd, felt himself gag and swallow down vomit at what they saw.  While James, still wailing, tried to put his hands back over his aching sex organs, Quinten held them forcefully out of the way so everyone could see the expanding patch of crimson red in the groin of James' otherwise white football pants.

"Holy fuck! Let's get him inside,"

The players, not being particularly gentle, carried James into the locker room.

"Damn janitor," Carl sighed in exasperation after stumbling and almost falling backward over a shop vac left haphazardly just inside the doorway, nearly dropping James' in the process.

The players set James down on the end of a bench and Carl pulled his pants down to his ankles.  As expected, his modified cup had totally shattered like glass. James looked down and screamed in utter terror at the bloody mess, and tried to reach his hands down only to realize he was being held in place.  Two players, one on each arm were holding Jame's arms harmlessly out of the way.  James, confused, tried to close his legs only to realize that two more players, on their knees on either side of him, were holding his ankles so that his legs were stuck wide open.

"What gives!" James asked through sobs.

His mind was a blur of pain and terror that his balls had been reduced to a bloody mess, Meanwhile, swallowing back gags, Carl picked razor sharp shards of the ruined cup away from James' crotch.  Most of them were covered in blood since some of them had punctured into Jame's seven inch flaccid penis.  The pieces had only gone in a few milometers into the fat cock, but it was deep enough to turn it into a shredded, gory mess.  Miraculously, Jame's heavy, modest sized balls, though covered in blood, had been totally spared being impaled by the shattered metal.

"Oh, this is great!" Carl said, his eyes bright with inhuman hatred as he realized the last piece of metal was stuck on something.

He tugged at it and James howled in pain and struggled against his captors.  He couldn't comprehend what was happening. Why were Carl and his teammates treating him like this?

"It's stuck on his cock ring!" someone laughed and pointed.

Indeed, a piece of the destroyed metal cup had ensnared the ring shaped piercing at the head of Jame's cock.  His head rolled in agony as he thought to himself 'why do I always forget to take the damn thing off?

"Give it a yank," Travis suggested.

Carl nodded and grasped the inch long shard with both hands, careful not to cut himself on the edges, and tugged.  James screamed as his gorgeous cock was pulled by its mushroom head.  Carl, disappointed it was still stuck, changed up his posture. While holding the shard with one hand, he braced himself against James' thigh with the other and yanked... hard.

James nearly passed out and Carl, who was totally straight, found himself getting oddly aroused as he felt the ring -- still attached to the metal -- starting to tear itself out of Jame's head. James was sobbing and begging them to let him go, his muscular body struggling  valiantly to escape but his captors kept him firmly in place.

Carl, ignoring Jame's pleas, kept pulling and tugging as hard as he could. He could feel the ring continuing to tear and rip the bulbous head of Jame's cock as it pulled further and further out.  James' entire world became the tip of his cock, nothing else mattered. Nothing else registered. Just the pain from his cock as it was literally being torn open.

RI----IP

Carl fell backward, clutching the metal shard, which was still attached to the cock ring... and half of the head of Jame's dick.  There was a whooping cheer as the men looked down at James' mutilated cock, the head looking like a mushroom cap that had been sliced in two.  James, barely conscious, kept muttering 'Why' as Carl held up the meaty chunk of skin for everyone to see before tossing it aside.

Another player handed Carl a roll of bandages which Carl quickly wrapped around the head and the entire length of Jame's cock.  It was a half decent job, but good enough to stop -- or at least hide -- the bleeding while they moved on to their ultimate target; Jame's sagging balls.

James' was in incredible, throbbing pain. He was panicking, worried about what the group of strong, clearly angry men would do to him next, and horrified at the mutilation of his penis.  He was simply unable to process anything, so missed Travis' quick explanation of the ironically weak metal cup.  He had taken a cheap stainless steel cup, that was already of low quality, and repeatedly subjected tit to intense heat, then intense cold, over and over until it was sufficiently weak.  Then, to make sure it would break when struck head on, he had scored the inside with a file.  The damage would have been obvious had James not been so trusting from the onset and taken the time to examine it.   The crowd, impressed at Travis' ingenuity congratulated him and gave him an in-congruently polite round of applause, ignoring the whimpering blonde as he sat with his legs continuing to be spread apart.

Wasting not more time, Carl knelt down between Kyle's thick thighs again and grabbed on of his saggy nuts in each time, squeezing them as hard as he could.  They were already beat red from the earlier head butt,. and were now turning a screaming purplish red as they were compressed flatter... and flatter... and flatter.... and flatter.

James' mouth was stretched open so wide his jaw ached, his eyes were pleading and he was hollering like a wounded demon.  The pressure was building in his nuts and he could feel them starting to cave in under Carl's determined attempt to crush his spuds.  He didn't even think it was possible to stay conscious during such pain and he prayed to pass out.  He didn't even care if Carl kept squeezing until his balls literally burst as long as he blacked out before it happened.

"Carl Pleeeeeeeeeeeease!"

The watching men erupted into macabre laughter at Jame's desperate, confused pleas for mercy.  After a few minutes, his hands turning red from the effort, Carl released Jame's swelling nuts and let them rest on the bench.  James was heaving, his screams reduced to a half hearted blubbering jumble.

"I couldn't get 'em to break.  Whose next?"

Travis literally pushed Carl out of the way and got on his knees between Jame's legs.  James watched, half conscious, as Travis took a ball in each of his truly huge hands and squeezed.  Travis's bicep flexed and bulged as he tried to literally extinguish Jame's sex life.

James knew his nuts wouldn’t hold out much longer, but any fight he had left had been beaten out of him.  He could only look down in muted horror, trying to drown out the cheers of the crowd.

"Crush it! Crush it!" they chanted with the excitement of children counting down the minutes to the end of the school day.

Travis could feel that Jame's flattening nuts were starting to become crushed, literally collapsing in his hands. He felt an incredible surge of brute emotion as he continued to lay waste to another man's baby makers.

"Carl! Don't... kids..." James' screams barely formed an intelligible plea.

Only Carl knew what 'kids' James was talking about and he licked his lips and smiled wide as he explained to everyone how excited James' was to make babies.


"Well I hope you made a sperm deposit," Travis laughed as he felt James' right nut starting to really lose its shape.

"It's my turn,"  Josh said tapping Travis on the shoulder.

One by one all ten of the men got to squeeze and kneed Jame's defenseless nuts for five minutes at a time.  One player discovered that pressing his thumb into the center of the fat organs really made James squeal. Another spent his turn concentrating on just one of Jame's collapsing nuts.  Finally it was Carl's turn again.  He made a fist, rose it above his head and sent it smashing down onto Jame's nuts like a hammer.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPL-A-T!

Over and over Carl, yelling and sweating with rage, kept pounding Jame's organs mercilessly.

"Say bye to your son, asshole!"

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPL-O-TCH!

Carl was literally panting like an animal, barely registering the sensation as Jame's abused right nut violently blew to pieces in the sack.  The gooey sploshing, though in actuality barely addible, was a stentorian crunch inside Jame's head... then all was dark.

"He passed out!"  someone shouted.

SPLAT!

Carl smashed down once more, further pulping Jame's nut and stood up, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Get him on his knees!" he barked to no one in particular.

The four men who had been holding him positioned his limp muscular body on the ground , knees spread apart. They had just positioned him when Carl reared back his foot and sent his cleat crashing to Jame's sack with a devastating CRUNCH.

Jame's head rolled, but otherwise the totally vulnerable stud didn't react.

"My turn!"

CRUNCH!  CRUNCH!

Player after player took turns practicing their field goal kicks on Jame's bloated, half flattened sack.  By the tenth man, James' right nut was entirely turned to goop, and the left was barely hanging on.  Even if they stopped at that point, it was likely his testicle was ruined anyway.  But Carl wasn't satisfied.  Jame's left nut was still visibly plump, though swollen to three times its size and purplish black, and he wouldn't be satisfied until it, like the other was a mushy, destroyed ruin.

"Was he really tryin' to have kids?"  someone asked, suddenly realizing the seriousness of what they were doing.

"Yea!" Carl screamed sending his foot sailing into James' crotch over and over.

SPLAT! CRUNCH! THUD!

Carl was kicking so hard, Kyle's body was actually being lifted off the ground.  He knelt down and felt Jame's last nut, rolling it between his fingers and thumb.  James seemed to barely register what was happening.  Carl could feel that Jame's sperm factory was turning soft, and was less yielding to pressure but it was still whole.

"Guys, I think we taught him good," someone said, the tone of sobering realization weighing heavily.

it was as if the gathered men were coming down from the euphoric high of doing some juvenile prank and were now starting to contemplate the reality of cleaning up the mess. Carl, however, was determined to totally castrated James.  He headed to the shop vac he had almost tripped over and wheeled it over to Kyle.

"Dude, what're you doing?"

"C'mon. Cut it out,"

Carl ignored the increasingly panicked appeals to sanity.  One player, overwhelmed with panic after seeing that the bandage wrapping Jame's cock was now totally drenched in blood, threw up.  Carl guided the hose of the powerful vacuum so that it was resting against the skin of Jame's bloated sack.

"Carl! Stop!"

WHIIIIIRR!

Before anyone could stop him Carl had flipped on the machine and Jame's left ball was pulled toward the bottom of the sack, getting wedged inside the hose. The machine, now totally obstructed, wheezed and huffed as it applied unimaginable suction to Jame's last whole nut, the chords being stretched to their limit as the machine attempted to literally suck the testicle out of the sack.

The machine was only allowed to run for a few moments before someone had unplugged it.  Carl threw down the hose and reached down, grabbing Jame's still whole left nut and giving it a firm tug.

"Oh yes!" Carl shrieked in a maniacal tone.

To his delight, it was obvious even trough the skin of Jame's scrotum that every connective tissue and chord that had been keeping James' battered nut attached to his body had been ripped off.  The testicle was now just floating free in the rapidly swelling, discolored sack,, mingling with the now liquified remains of his right nut.

"Carl! What did you --- what did we do!" someone shrieked.

The sound of another footballer vomiting echoed through the locker room.

Carl, was slowly starting to realize the gravity of what he had done.  He looked down with joy at the destroyed jock, his perfectly sculpted muscles glistening with sweat, his blonde hair matted to his head.  James' deep violet eyes were half opened in his comatose state, though it was obvious he wasn't actually looking at anything.  Jame, who had been sobbing for nearly an hour under the brutal assault, was literally cried out, though a single lone tear was streaming down his handsome face.

Even Travis was rendered speechless by the utter destruction of James' sex life, staring blanking into the mangled, mushy bag yet too stunned to actually register what he was seeing.

Some of the men ran away. Others started lifting James to his feet in a desperate attempt to get him to the hospital, though it was obvious there wouldn't be anything they could do to save his nuts.  One man fainted.  Carl, like an odd statue, stood defiantly amongst the growing chaos.  How moronic, he thought of his teammates, with a subhuman callousness.  What did they possibly think was going to happen when ten men went to town on one man's vulnerable balls? Did they expect to simply get a few laughs and James to casually laugh it off.  Did they think this was a high school prank.

The sound of sirens could be heard outside, James had been long moved away, but in Carl's mind's eye he could still see the handsome, virile stud kneeling before him, his rippling muscles now looking ridiculously out of place on the sexless quote-unquote man.  Carl's lips curled into a particularly vile, demented smile as he contrasted that image with the beaming, incredibly happy face James had earlier in the day.  It was probable that James' striking violet eyes, his young life's plans so interrupted, would never have that same sparkle as when James had been describing loving someone who would now never be born.  Carl was beyond satisfied with himself for having permanently snuffed that light out of James' eyes and all it took were rupturing two small, round organs -- tiny specs compared to the rest of his muscular body....

Well played, he thought to himself.