Poke-balls BLOW!

The sound of traffic, people and bustle and the lights of neon signs coalesced into a type of streetscape symphony Mike Gonzales had never heard before.  Shanghai was, as he had imagined, a far cry from the sleepy Texas town he called home.  Mike stood at the the cross walk of one of the city’s seemingly infinite ring roads and admired the scene around him in awe.  All around him was excitement that would have seemed totally normal in any other town at high-noon - but it was twenty minutes past midnight.  

It was Mike’s first time in the bustling Chinese metropolis and he was there for the inaugural Jīngrén Anime Convention hosted in one of the city’s newest convention centers.  It was a flagrant attempt to compete for the attention -- and the dollars -- of Japan’s more established anime circuit and the gambit had worked.  Animators, directors and entrepreneurs  from around the globe had flocked to the city to showcase their wares and there was no shortage of cosplay.  That’s why the awestruck Latin tourist - dressed in a yellow Pokemon costume that resembled glorified pajamas, barely raised an eyebrow of the dozens of people passing him on the intersection.  The animated walk signal came and went several times and a few people in the hustling crowd mumbled derisively at the seemingly clueless costumed character in their way, but they all went on about their business as if it was just the middle of the afternoon.

“This is awesome,” Mike thought to himself.

Enormous skyscrapers loomed all around him, one of them was even displaying the color scheme of a popular cartoon series on its facade.  The second night of the convention had only just ended but Mike knew he was in for an entire week of fun.  He was nearly high with excitement; the panels were amazing and the atmosphere was electric.  Mike was an huge anime fan and frequently traveled the globe to attend conventions, but the Jīngrén was by far the biggest, most spectacular spectacle.  There were even vouchers being handed out at the convention center for free taxis to the various hotels that were full to capacity with excited fans but Mike had decided to walk back to the nearby Radisson Blu so as to soak in the pulse of the city at a pedestrian pace.

“Do you need help?” a passing woman asked in broken English.

Mike was warmed by the genuine concern in the woman’s voice.

“No, thank you.” he smiled.

The friendly Chinese woman nodded and continued on her way, lost in the sea of the crowd.

Mike rode the current of pedestrians away from the convention center’s central plaza toward the district of his hotel, being sure to take in the sights and sounds of the experience.  Mike was so taken aback by the sheer experience of being in the heart China’s largest city that at first he hardly noticed that his mindless wandering was actually taking him not toward the central hotel district but toward a quieter, but still bustling, industrial area near the water.  He was tempted to whip out his mobile and call up a map, but he figured half the fun of this trip was experiencing this wondrous city on-the-fly.    

“Neat!”

Mike took out his mobile to snap a picture of a brightly lit sign that looked like a snake eating a turtle.  He had no idea what it meant but it was cool.

The handsome Latin continued on his stroll until, quite abruptly, he found himself no longer in the sea of pedestrians; they had all splintered off into different directions.  Suddenly the modern buildings  adorned in the colors of the latest anime craze were nothing but distant indistinguishable towers on the horizon and the streetscape had taken a decided turn for the worst.  Gone were the throngs of people and constant traffic. Mike was now on what literally appeared to be a back alley between industrial buildings with no shops, ornate street landscaping or even -- as Mike slowly realized -- adequate lighting.  Despite being in one of the largest, most modern cities in the history of mankind Mike could now barely see his hand in front of his face, save for a few flickering orange floodlights that lit his path. The street narrowed until it was only barely wide enough for delivery vans, no sidewalks, and unfriendly looking locals staring down the obvious outsider in a yellow Pokemon costume.

Mike looked behind him and realized that the tower of hotel, once clearly in the direction he was going, was no longer visible.  He was lost. He sighed and pulled out his mobile to hail a ride-share but was greeted with blackness.

“Fuck!”

He had used the last bit of power taking the picture of the snake-and-turtle sign.

Mike stood for a moment on the darkened street and contemplated, for the first time becoming fully cognizant of how unfriendly his surroundings had become.  This was not the cosmopolitan, clean city showcased in convention fliers. He was in the heart of what was apparently a rough part of town - in the dark.  Mike pivoted on one foot and immediately began walking in the opposite direction figuring that if he retraced his steps he would just find himself back at the convention center. The merits of that plan were quickly called into question when he barely went ten minutes before encountering an intersection. Right or left. He couldn’t remember! He had been so caught up in just walking he hadn’t paid attention and now both options looked ominous, long narrow alleys lined with darkened facades and flickering lights.  And for the first time in Shanghai, Mike was starting to get scared.  Here he was a lost American tourist wearing a Pokemon costume in the middle of a deserted Chinese street in a seedy part of town.

“Do you need help?”

Mike turned to see a shadowy figure approaching him; it was the exact question he had been asked at the brightly lit plaza only now it seemed more like a thinly-veiled threat.

“Oh, no thank you,”  Mike answered resolutely.

“Are you sure?” came a voice from another direction.

“You look lost,” came yet another voice.

Mike turned to see that there were now three men approaching him from the darkness. His heart pounded as the three made their way toward him with deliberate speed.

“No, thanks. I just have to get back to the convention center,” Mike said, feigning calm.

“No convention centers around here,” the first man replied.

“What’s with your costume, man? Are you a fairy or something?”

“I think he’s supposed to be a Pikachu,” the other man laughed.

Mike’s face flushed red as he tried to back away from the approaching men only to back himself into a wall. Within moments Mike was surrounded by three muscular Chinese thugs, all wearing dirty blue jeans and soiled A-shirts as if they had just gotten off work at one of the area’s industrial buildings. Although Mike was taller and in good shape, he wasn’t nearly as ripped as the three young men circling him and their mounding pecs and rippled abs and well-toned legs were clearly discernable under their clothes.

“Look guys, I just wanna’ get back to my hotel.”

The three thugs chortled as they stepped even closer making them now less than three feet away.  Mike looked around frantically but he was alone, apparently trapped by the three menacing hoodlums.

One of the thugs took another step toward Mike and grinned.

“We can take you back, for a price. What you got?”

Mike reached into the pocket sewn into his costume, produced his wallet and handed it to the man.

“Here. Just take it,”

“Nah, that’s not what we want,” the lead man swatted Mike’s wallet to the pavement like it was so much garbage.

Mike took a step back and shuddered as he felt his back pressed against a wall.  The three thugs stepped closer, completely surrounding Mike at less than foot away. Mike could clearly make out their angry faces in the dim light; they appeared to be Mike’s age - early twenties - with ruggedly handsome faces covered in a dusting of hairy scruff. Their toned, muscled bodies looked even hotter up close and Mike couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter despite the his predicament.

“What do you want?”  he asked trying to sound collected.

One of the men reached out his hand quickly and Mike braced himself for a punch, but the thug stopped just short of striking Mike, instead resting his hand on Mike’s chest.  Mike’s heart pounded as the man slowly rubbed his calloused hand over the chest of Mike’s costume, licking his lips in apparent admiration for the slight ripples.  The thug continued to rub Mike’s chest for several minutes, never breaking eye contact, gradually lowering his hand until it was starting to come into contact with Mike’s crotch.  Despite himself, Mike was sporting a hardon and a slight tent had formed in his Pokemon costume.

The three men chuckled as the first man grabbed Mike’s chubby cock through the thin fabric and gave it a viscous squeeze.  Mike gasped in surprise and had barely registered the pain before one of the other men punched him hard in the temple.  The dazed tourist yelped and slouched forward as the other two men started raining punches over his face and chest.  Mike screamed and tried desperately to get away but the first thug still had him literally by the dick and was now squeezing and pulling it with all of his might.

“Please!” Mike screamed as tears fell down his swelling face, but that only made the men laugh harder.

“Oooh!”

Mike’s screams echoed through the dark alley as the man holding his dick pulled it so hard Mike thought his dick was going to be ripped off, followed by a devastating uppercut to his crotch.  The thug’s powerful fist connected squarely with his large, low hanging balls and flattened them into his pelvis, the thin yellow fabric of his costume offering no protection. The other two hoodlums had beaten Mike into a daze - his eyes were swollen and his costume was ripped and bloody - stopped their assault and watched as the punch-drunk Latin wobbled against the wall, cowering with his hands over his face.  

“Please sto.... Oooh!”

Mike wailed as the first thug’s fist connected with his dangling balls again and again. He closed his legs and tried to drop to the ground but he was being held up on either side by the other two men, leaving his bulging sack exposed.  The man punching Mike’s junk seemed to be taking sick delight as his fist crashed over and over into Mike’s defenseless crotch.  Mike sobbed and begged but that only seemed to make the man more determined to inflict damage.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the beating stopped and the man stepped away from Mike snickering. His two friends let go of Mike’s arms letting the exhausted stud fall to his knees, clutching his battered, swollen testicles and sobbing.  

As Mike rocked back and forth, the three men turned, laughing and high fiving each other, and started to walk away.  Mike was dazed and bruised, and had curled into a fetal position on the pavement, listening for the sound of the men to fade... but it didn’t.  Instead they had stopped only a few yards away and were laughing and talking quickly in Chinese. Mike sprang to his feet from a burst of adrenaline as he heard the three turning back toward him and moving quickly.

“Get him!” the lead thug shouted and all three quickened their pace, as if that were necessary.

They overtook the hobbling Mike effortlessly and one of them held Mike’s arms behind his back.  Mike cried as he felt the man’s throbbing cock pressed against his back through his jeans.

“Please...”

Mike screamed as a fist connected with his balls and struggled as he felt the giant cock pressed against the small of his back, the bucking of his hips made his Latin bubble butt bounce, which seemed to turn on the man holding him.  Mike cried out as the other two men took turns treating his dangling nuts like a sparring bag, delivering rapid fire punches with no reprieve.  Mike thought he was going to be sick from the boiling pain in his stomach and could feel himself starting to black out.  His nuts were on fire and the laughing, sneering men didn’t show any signs of stopping.  Suddenly, Mike felt himself being dragged by his dick into an alley.  He screamed, tears streaming down his face, as his flaccid cock was used like a flesh leash.

Something in the base of Mike’s cock felt like it ripped.

“Ooow!” Mike howled to the men’s delight.

Mike felt himself being pushed over a stack of abandoned pallets, his as sticking up, and multiple hands tearing the bottom of his costume into yellow shreds.  Someone was holding Mike’s face down as he frantically tried to right himself before...

“Ooooh shit!” Mike screamed and cried as he felt a truly enormous cock plow into his ass.

Mike’s screams were silenced by one of the men stuffing his mouth with his dirty undershirt but Mike’s eyes were still blurry from tears.  At least eight inches of thick cock was blowing into his tight Latin hole, ramming his prostate and causing his short, fat cock to spring to attention.  Mike screamed into his gag as his injured cock throbbed painfully, the harder it got the more it hurt. Meanwhile One of the men had crouched down and taken Mike’s now freely swinging balls into his strong grip, squeezing them mercilessly while Mike’s ass was invaded.  Mike had never felt so much pain in his entire life as his attacker’s too-big penis rammed him at the same him his balls were being squeezed and flattened.  Mike begged them to stop, but his cries only came out as muffled moans, drowned of by the loud moaning coming from being him.  

“Oh fuck!” the man screamed.

Mike felt jet after jet of creamy sperm flooding his guts as the heavier, muscular stud collapsed on top of him, too overwhelmed by his orgasm to stay standing.  The other two men laughed and the one holding Mike’s balls proceeded to make an ‘O’ with one hand, tugging Mike’s bloated balls to the bottom of his sack and made a fist with the other.

“Oommph”  

Mike cried as he felt the man’s powerful fist pounding into his trapped nuts, crushing them nearly flat.  Waves of nauseating pain radiated into his belly and his toned body struggled to break free but the post-orgasmic, heavy stud on top of him kept from firmly in place.   As the man continued to destroy Mike’s manhood, the thug who had fucked him slowly pulled away and had no sooner cleared Mike’s ass when he was immediately replaced by the second man.  Mike knew what was about to happen but was powerless to stop it. He closed his eyes and braced for the power fuck he knew was coming.

The second man’s cock was even bigger than the first and he slammed it balls deep into Mike’s abused hole, his big floppy nuts slapping Mike’s ass with every piston stroke.  Despite the pain, the man’s cock was expertly hitting Mike’s prostate, causing his dick to swell painfully and precum to leak out, coating his abs with the sticky fluid.  The man’s fucking became faster and harder, plowing so deep Mike thought the man’s dick was going to hit the back of his teeth, all the while the thug on the ground was pounding Mike’s red, swollen nuts into paste.  Mike begged and pleaded as he felt his swollen nuts start to go numb from the overwhelming assault but his crying seemed to make the punching thug even more determined.

The man who had just bred Mike, pulled the gag out of Mike’s mouth and smiled evilly.

“We’re gonna’ pop your poke-balls,” he laughed.

“No! Please! Don’t hurt me no more!”

All three men laughed as the man punching Mike kept right on wailing his nutsack.  Mike was sobbing uncontrollably as he was fucked and beaten. The man beating his balls switched up his tactics, this time isolating Mike’s badly swollen left nut and squeezing it between his thumb and his fingers.  Mike let out a gasp of terror as he felt the thug’s thumb starting to break into the membranes of his nut.

“Oh!”  the man squeezing Mike’s nut was moaning as if he was actually getting off at the destruction on Mike’s nut.

Mike screamed and threw up as he felt his big left nut split in his sack.  The three men cheered as the second man continued to pound the daylights out of Mike’s ass, slapping his perfect bubble butt as it bounced from the relentless pounding.

“Last one!”

Mike felt the evil thug take his last whole nut in his fists and squeeze.  He cried as he felt his right nut, his favorite nut, being compressed flatter and flatter.  His fucking was getting even more intense and Mike’s cries filled the night.  His nut got flatter, and flatter and flatter.

“Fuck!” the man fucking Mike screamed as he pulled out in time to drench Mike’s back with ropes of sperm.

Mike passed out as he felt his right nut crack.  The man dismounted Mike and the three took a step back, finally letting Mike’s body slump to the pavement,  splayed spread eagle.  The three gave each other high fives and spoke in Chinese rapidly as they looked down at the hapless tourist, his yellow Pokemon costume in tatters and his big, swollen nutsack resting on the pavement between his legs.  The hoodlum who had just painted Mike’s back placed his large foot on Mike’s defenseless balls and stomped.  

The rush of pain was so tremendous that, even completely blacked out, Mike’s head stirred and he became barely conscious.  The man stomped again, crushing Mike’s broken balls into the pavement, leaving his sack permanently flattened.  He raised his foot again and was preparing to totally liquify Mike’s testicles but the lead thug motioned for the group to leave.  The man’s heavy boot hovered over Mike’s manhood, his dick getting hard as he visualized the splattered mess he could have made out of Mike’s nuts, but at the last moment he lowered his foot gently and turned to leave with the others.   Mike’s eyes rolled into his head and he mercifully blacked out.