The Rusty Talon

I wrote this as part of a 'story swap' I was invited to participate in by a fellow ball-buster. It is a 'furry' story (the characters are anthropomorphized animals). If this isn't your scene, you may want to skip and come back Monday for the next regular update. 

The Rusty Talon was a dive of a boxing gym with obsolete equipment, dingy lighting, and perpetually broken bathroom plumbing. The cheap gym facade was a thin veneer to the club's true purpose, a place where masters placed nightly bets as their doms duked it out in the ring in brutal no-holds-barred throwdowns. Although small fortunes were won and lost in the betting pool, the real action happened Friday nights when Rex, a sly leisure-suit-wearing alligator who reeked of cheap cologne and booze, took bets for the even seedier clients of The Rusty Talon. 

The intrepid bookie was notorious for setting up bets where the losing sub - and even some former doms -  became the prizes to be won. Some masters had amassed a small army of burly, gym-toned beasts that they put into the ring knowing that, if they lost, he'd become someone else's property. After a particularly wild night of gambling and fighting, one especially ruthless master had won a wager with the ultimate prize...

Bruce practically reeked of hubris as he sauntered through The Rusty Talon well before the night's regular fights were scheduled to start. Bruce was a hulking figure even by bull standards, standing nearly seven feet tall and weighing at least five-hundred pounds, most of which was carried in his barrel-shaped, powerful torso. Per usual, he was only wearing a leather harness that seemed to strain to contain the bull's beefy pecs and a pair of white gym shorts that allowed his pendulous nuts to flop obviously against the fabric as he walked.

He was carrying a large flat-faced paddle clad in leather that got curious glances from the few gym-goers working out during the day. A handsome young tiger practically dove out of Bruce's path as the hulking bull strolled toward a door in the back of the gym like he owned the place. Today was the day Bruce was going to cash in on his winning bet.

Following close behind him was Rex, wearing a very cheap suit and grinning ear to ear, and Yule, a fellow bull who was significantly shorter than Bruce but whose lean body made his musculature much more obvious. Unlike Rex, Yule wasn't smiling.

"Bruce, buddy. We've known each other for years. Give my guys a break, will ya?" Yule said putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

Bruce snapped his thick, long tail in annoyance and turned to Yule huffing impatiently. He'd heard Yule's pleas nearly non-stop since he had won the bet and was growing tired of the cocky bull's insistent attitude. If it wasn't for the club's strictly-enforced honor system, he would have just head-butted him into silence and been done with it. Instead, the shiny surface of the enormous golden ring protruding from Bruce's snout fogged as he snorted in annoyance. 

"Deal's a deal, kid. Don't wager what you can't afford to lose," Rex sneered.

"I gotta' reputation to keep. No one's gonna' wanna' use a bookie who can't make guys honor their bets. You wouldn't want me to get nasty, would ya'?" 

Rex's cheesy facade collapsed as a wave of anger flashed over his face, he flexed the muscles that were usually obscured by his ill-fitting suits and snapped his snout at Yule, bearing his razor-sharp teeth. Just as quickly as it had started, the moment lapsed and Rex went back into leisure-suit mode. It was obvious Rex's ostensible meekness was a carefully played facade that he would not hesitate to break if the need arose and even this brief display was enough to silence Yule.

The three men walked into the back room and closed the door. The small room had a rank smell of sweat, dirty fur, piss, and blood.  In front of them was a bull, a minotaur, and a fox all tied against the wall with their arms bound behind their backs, legs spread and shackled to the floor and thick chains around their necks which were bolted to the stone wall. The rope stopped all but the slightest upper body movement and the leg shackles kept them locked firmly in place. All of them were naked and gagged with pleading expressions on their faces.

They were three of Yule's best fighters whom Bruce had won the weekend before. The wager came with a cruel provision that Bruce would return them after practicing his swing for an afternoon. Unfortunately for them, Bruce's sheer size and brute strength meant there was no telling what condition they'd be in when he finally gave them back to Yule. This was going to be a long afternoon. Of course, Bruce recognized all of them and smiled evilly as he reviewed his prizes. 

Jax, the bull, was an up and coming stud who drove heifers wild with his striking good looks and toned build.  He was relatively short but what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle and was lightning quick in the ring. His ring name was the Bird Bull for the almost flightly way he danced around the ring, striking his opponents ruthlessly while evading their attacks. But those skills were useless as he was tied helplessly in place, his grapefruit-sized, heavy testicles sagging between his stout legs.

Next was Lyndol. Lyndol was a gruff-looking minotaur who had been competing at The Rusty Talon for years before joining the elite ranks of Yule's harem. Even Bruce seemed small compared to the hulking minotaur. His size alone would have made the eight-foot-tall beast a force to be reckoned with, but when combined with his animalistic blood-lust and rippling physique made him a fighter with few peers. Although horns were technically not allowed to be used as weapons, it wasn't unusual for Lyndol to use his twin horns to toss opponents into the air where he would deliver devastating blows with his powerful fists in midair. Lyndol often left the ring with his thick fur matted with the blood - and occasionally the entrails - of his defeated opponents. In fact, his horns had taken on a semi-permanent rust color as a testament to his depraved brutality. 

Even now the angry beast was grunting through his gag and raging in a futile attempt to get free. All he succeeded in doing was working up a sweat and making his absolutely colossal nuts bounce and jiggle between his thick thighs. 

Last in line was Kyro a slim, toned fox who affectionately went by Goldilocks in the ring due to the thick coat of perfectly manicured, golden brown fur that covered his taught frame. Despite the playful moniker, a fight with Kyro was no fairytale for his opponents and the crafty fox was known to down opponents much larger than him.

Kyro was easily the youngest of the three but his cocky attitude and playboy antics had already made him notorious. There was none of that on display now however and the fur around the young fox's eyes was wet with tears as he desperately pleaded for mercy through his gag.  Bruce eyed the supple, modest-sized sack hanging disproportionately low between his legs and grinned as he took a step toward him.

"Bruce, man. Do I really have to watch?" Yule pleaded.

"That was the deal," Rex hissed, flashing his teeth.

Yule crossed his eyes and looked on helplessly with the indifference of a bull looking at three toys about to be smashed to pieces, not three men about to be brutally beaten.

Bruce was now standing snout to snout with the quivering Kyro. He could smell the fox's couture cologne that barely masked the musk of his fur and the smell of fear that seemed to physically radiate from him. Bruce inhaled deeply and laughed, his maniacal booming laugh echoing in the small room.

"I'm gonna' have so much fun with you, lil' pup,"

Bruce set down his paddle and balled his hands into two huge fists the site of which made Kyro wail into his gag. 

CRUNCH

Yule shuddered and looked away as the giant bull's fist slammed Kyro's pecs, slamming into them over and over as he mercilessly tried to crush his rib cage.  Kyro screamed as Bruce continued slamming his fists so hard that they seemed to get buried in the fox's fur. After nearly a minute Bruce's aim started to get lower and lower with each blow until he was slamming Kyro's chiseled, furry abs. Yule was sure at least some of his best canid fighter's ribs had been broken and Bruce wasn't slowing down. Instead, his piston-like fists got lower, and lower until they were hovering over Kyro's sack.

Kyro heaved and cried out as Bruce reared his fist back, his bicep becoming a huge hairy mass of muscle, and then sent his fist sailing forward.

Kyro dry heaved all over Bruce's horns as the bull's fist collided with his nutsack and was slammed against the wall. The fox's balls, though large, were the smallest of the bunch so fit perfectly until Bruce's fist which was slamming them into the stone wall like a jackhammer.  

Sickening, wet crunching echoed through the room as Bruce laid waste to Kyro's junk.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" 

Kyro was in hysterics as Bruce slammed his fist faster and faster, his knuckles swelling from the abuse until he felt a slight popping sensation under his fist. He drew back his hand to reveal Kyro's furry nuts had puffed up and turned an angry shade of purple. Bruce roughly cupped them in his hands and squeezed, delighted that nothing felt broken.

Bruce picked up his paddle and rubbed his hand over the surface as if polishing a rare jewel.

Yule rolled his eyes and snarled but was silenced by a flash of Rex's teeth. He knew his plans to breed another generation of fox cubs were about to be crushed and there wasn't anything he could do without being torn to shreds by Rex, assuming of course Bruce didn't finish the job first.

Bruce placed the wide paddle under Kyro's fuzzy sack and lightly batted them up and down like a paddle ball. Kyro screamed as the intensity increased, filling the room with wet slapping sounds. His young nuts were bouncing harder and harder, flattening against the surface of the paddle to Bruce's delight.

"I think I'm going to practice my backhand," 

Bruce threw the paddle into the air with a twirl and caught it with the opposite hand.  His tail snapped as he drew back his arm for the swing. Kyro's eyes turned into saucers as he became fixated on the truly enormous bulk of Bruce's body, especially the arm holding the paddle. This was going to be one hell of a blow...

"Mmmmm!"

SPLAT. SPLAT

Kyro passed out.

SPLA-OOO-TCH

Yule looked away as the paddle collided with Kyro's sack which flattened against its surface, becoming flatter and flatter as the membranes collapsed into nothing. Bruce could feel the resistance - and shape - of Kyro's balls disappearing under the terminal blow and when he withdrew the bat his suspicions were confirmed. His swollen sack, though bloated, lacked the clearly defined lumps the young fox had started with. Instead, his scrotum was full of prime stud nut chunks floating around freely, freed of the pesty confines of an intact tunica vaginalis.

Satisfied that his work with Kyro was done, Bruce turned and nodded to Rex who pounded the entry door three times. Two aging bears who worked as The Rusty Talon's security entered and quickly got to work untying the blacked-out fox from the wall, carrying him out gently.

"Clean 'em up. I want him back in the ring by next week," Yule shouted after them.

"You know, you're a real piece of work, Bruce. A real son of a bitch. Do you know how many chicks I bagged with him as my wingman? He was like honey to my trap, cute lil' pup."

The bears had barely left the room, closing the door behind them, when Bruce strolled over to Jax. The younger bull looked like a newborn calf compared to Bruce's towering build and his legs were shaking as he desperately tried to close them. Bruce could barely cup the huge, round things in a single palm as he took a moment to admire their heft. As he cradled them, Bruce couldn't help but admire the handsome young bull's physique. Jax was easily the most attractive bull Bruce had ever seen in his life. He had seen models in magazines that didn't have the strikingly good looks of this young bull and he had a body to match. Countless hours at the gym and a strict diet had rendered him virtually devoid of extra fat. An anatomy professor could have used him as a prop, so carved was every muscle in his body and his thick brown coat was always neatly trimmed. A very skilled barber had cut a tribal-looking design into the fur on his chest that spiraled outward culminating at what would have ordinarily been the waistline of his boxing shorts.

Bruce took several steps back, lowered his head, and charged directly at Jax at speed.

"Nnnnnpph!"

Yule grimaced sympathetically as Bruce's large head smashed into Jax's handsome face, instantly shattering it. Blood spilled from his broken snout and one of his eyes almost instantly swelled shut. Jax whimpered as Bruce looked at his handiwork. 

"Not so pretty now, are you?" he sneered.

He proceeded to grip the paddle with both hands and pull back so far his torso rotated before sending the bat smashing into Jax's balls.

"I want to see if I can break a steer-making record!" 

WHAM! CRUNCH! 

Jax's huge, firm nuts seemed to barely deform as they collided over and over with the broad face of the paddle. 

Rex and Yule looked on as the hulking bull put every ounce of his strength into destroying Jax's chances at siring a calf. Although he wished he could just pass out, panic and pain kept Jax firmly planted in reality so he was able to fully experience every testicle-bursting hit. After whacking with a two-handed grip, Bruce decided to practice his forehand grip. The smaller bull wailed at the site of Bruce's massive arm drawn back before there was a loud whoosh and the paddle smashed full force into Jax's sack.

Jax's balls were big, heavy, and swollen and Bruce wasn't giving them any time to recover between blows. The stud's sack bounced madly with each blow as Bruce alternate hands and grip styles to see which was the most effective in rendering a scream from the about to be neutered boxer.

"Nmmnmmmphmmm!"

Jax shook his head pleading with Bruce to stop his non-stop assault but it was no use.

BLOOOSH! CRUNCH!

Jax's right nut cracked wide open in his sack.

Bruce stopped swinging and for a moment Rex was about to pound the door to get the bear security guards back in to clean up the mess, but the pause was brief.

Bruce snorted and waved his tail wildly as he again gripped the bat with both hands and swung over and over into Jax's half-busted spuds. Hundreds of pounds of force came with each rapid-fire blow and Yule rolled his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

GRSPLOTCH!

Jax's last whole nut was annihilated. Bruce, never one to leave a job half-finished, took the shattered orbs - one in each of his massive hands - and squeezed. Gross, wet crunching and splishing sounds emanated from the bull's rapidly closing fists until, with a final crunching, only a few large, disconnected chunks were floating the newly-created steer's sack.

Bruce turned to Rex and nodded and Rex again pounded on the door. The two bears waddled in, untied Jax from his constraints, and carried him out. Yule shook his head as he saw another of his prize fighters being carried out utterly broken.

The door slammed behind them and Bruce sauntered in front of Lyndol. The giant minotaur struggled against the ropes, more in rage than any attempt to escape and his black eyes glared menacingly at Bruce. As an alpha bull, Bruce was almost always the largest person in any room, but even his hefty build was utter dwarfed by the minotaur. Lyndol's thick legs and head were thick in a tangled mess of nearly jet-black fur and his monstrously large horns easily added another foot to his overall height. In stark contrast to the rest of his body, his huge torso was neatly shaved almost bald allowing for his corrugated muscles to glisten with sweat. Lyndol's chest - like the rest of his body - was broad and muscular and the rippling abdominal muscles were so rock-hard and well-sculpted that they looked like a piece of armor had been bolted to his body. And swinging between his thick thighs were two enormous spuds the size of small melons which would have been comically huge on any other breast but seemed proportionate to Lyndol's towering size.

Yule impatiently checked his watch.

"Bruce, just get it over with would ya'?"

Bruce's tale lazily swayed back and forth as he grasped the paddle with both hands. He started batting Lyndol's nuts gently at first but with increasing ferocity switching up his technique enjoying how different angles and grips caused the minotaur's equipment to violently bobble about in various ways.

Lyndol's nuts were as strong as they were large and Bruce quickly realized all his blows were doing was making the raging stud more angry, the pain barely registering. After a few minutes, though they were starting to turn rosy red under the thick coating of fur that covered them Lyndol's balls were hardly scathed. Undeterred, Bruce grasped the paddle firmly with both hands, lined up the shot, and swung the paddle like a bat as hard as he could. It connected in the middle of Lyndol's sack with a hard twack that was still resonating off the walls before it was followed by another, and another and another. Bruce's arms were becoming sore from the viscous force he was exerting and for the first time, the minotaur howled in genuine pain.

As Lyndol struggled, Bruce was determined to crack the huge ball bag open like a pinata and was now laying into it. The room was filled with Lyndol's gagged screams, Bruce grunting in effort, the loud 'whoosh' of the paddle sailing through the air and the loud, hard smack of the paddle slamming into the beast's nuts.

Bruce's fur was becoming damp with sweat as he poured every ounce of his strength into ruining the arrogant minotaur. Lyndol screamed and for the first time attempted to beg through his gag even though he knew it was hopeless.

The bull stepped away reared back his leg and sent it slamming into Lyndol's nuts. The screaming organs rocketed upward and hadn't even finished bouncing before Bruce slammed his massive foot into them. Lyndol gagged and screamed as Bruce spent the next ten minutes mercilessly pulping his nuts with his field goal kicks. He then grabbed Lyndol's giant right nugget, sandwiched it in his thick palms and compressed his hands together as hard as he could. Lyndol's eyes opened wide as his ball was compressed into a dense mound of ball meat, valiantly resisting any further deformation.

"Poor little minotaur,"

Bruce sneered as he looked up at the captive in front of him. Tears streaked down Lyndol's face as Bruce's bull hands compressed tighter... and tighter..

"Mmmmmmp!"

Yule and Rex turned away shuddering at the extremely loud, disturbing crunch of Lyndol's nut bursting in Bruce's hands. Bruce smiled as he felt the ball explode in the sack and he stepped pack, grabbed his paddle and started slamming it into Lyndol's swinging fury sack.  Lyndol faded in and out of consciousness and barely stirred when his last nut split open like a ripe antelope, his massive bag now full of nothing but two enormous, shattered orbs. But Bruce didn't stop.

Whooosh!

CRUNCH! SPLOTCH!

SCR--UUN--TCH!

The massive chunks of testicle remanents were being annihilated by the bull and the bag bounced and jiggled as Bruce slammed it so hard it was being ping-ponged between the paddle and the wall as it swung like a fleshy pendulum. Bruce snorted, his tail whipped wildly and he reared back screaming in conquest as he sent the paddle slamming with devastating force for a continuous five minutes. There was absolutely nothing left in Lyndol's sack at this point but mush and small welts and tears appeared along his scrotum's shredded surface. Patches of fur were matted into the surface of the paddle.

"Almost done," Bruce said looking up at the pleading minotaur.

Bruce lined up the paddle and took several large steps backward, his tail sweeping the ground behind him like a path.  Yule's eyes grew huge as he realized what Bruce was about to do.

With a growl, Bruce charged the minotaur and just before making contact swung the bat, combing the inertia of his hulking frame moving at speed with the force of his paddle. The results were catastrophic for Lyndol.

BLOOOOOOOOSH

Lyndol's goop filled sack exploded open spraying Bruce, the paddle and the wall with a shower of liquified, chunky mess. Streaks and chunks landed all over Lyndol's abs and the horrified minotaur passed out with his eyes half-open, a look of absolute horror and shock etched across his face.

Rex pounded the door and the two bears entered, stopped by the stunning sight. One of them called for a third, who called for a fourth who quickly untied Lyndol, started crudely treating his shredded scrotum, and the group struggled to carry out the enormous beast. The ground that had been under the minotaur and the wall were an absolute mess and shapeless testicle gunk had formed a pile several inches high on the ground.  Bruce rose his foot over it, turned to Yule, and smiled.

SPLISH!

The bull's shins were coated with the former reproductive organs of the studly minotaur. Bruce looked down at his trusty, gore covered paddle and smiled. 

John Krasinski's Workout

John Krasinki stood in the middle of a small private gym and whistled a cheery tune as he waited for his trainer Paul to join him.  John had played the role of an office worker on a comedy for several years, and though he kept himself in decent shape, he needed to get shredded quickly to play the role of globe-trotting, physically fit special agent Jack Ryan. The scripts called for John to perform most of his own physically grueling stunts with plenty of sequences tailor written to gratuitously show off the musculature of the hero as he casually walked away from danger with his shirt inexplicably torn open or clinging to his body from sweat.

Paul Taylor was something of a legend in the business for his ability to sculpt a man into an adonis in a remarkably short amount of time. John had been following Paul's strict, and slightly bizarre, customized diet for several weeks and to his amazement had shed quite a bit of fat. Now it was time for him to kick his workouts into overdrive and today was going to be John's first in-person training session. Paul warned him they were going to be grueling, intense encounters, and happen daily until the Jack Ryan show started production in several months.

"John!" Paul bellowed as he walked into the gym.

John turned and slightly blushed to see Paul was basically nude except for a bulging jockstrap, a smartwatch, sneakers, and - oddly enough - heavy plastic knee pads.  John had heard Paul was a bit excentric so dismissed the odd choice of outfit as a quirk. He seemed to match John's 6' 2" height and general build but was much denser as if someone had taken John's body and amped up the musculature to maximum.  It was obvious this trainer knew what he was doing and John was excited by the prospect to be working with him. As he approached with his outstretched hand, John could see that Paul was glistening with sweat and panting slightly, his golden skin flush as if he had just finished running a marathon.

"Sorry, mate. You're my third client today, no time to shower between I'm afraid,"

John was impressed. It was only six in the morning and Paul had already worked up a sweat over several intense sessions and probably had more to go. He wished he had Paul's stamina and tried to convey his commitment to what was bound to be months of exhausting work with a firm, thoughtful handshake. 

"Okay, the first order of business. I'm gonna' need you to take off your shirt,"

John, knowing Paul was meticulous to detail and well trained on the human body, thought nothing of the request and peeled out of his Dunder Mifflin logo t-shirt.  Without a word, Paul slowly circled the handsome actor and his eyes darted almost frantically as he made copious mental notes. When he was finished he stood just inches away from John's face and nodded.

"Not bad, we can definitely work with this. Now lose the shorts,"

John gave the trainer a quizzical look as he stepped out of his loose-fitting shorts and stood in front of him wearing only a pair of tight white briefs. John blushed as the trainer again circled him, eyeing every inch and curve of his body as if creating a high-resolution mental scan. When he was finished he again stood face to face with his student.

"Okay, get dressed and let's begin," he said.

For a brief moment, John thought he caught Paul's gaze laser-focused on his stuffed pouch but dismissed the notion. John would never have stood out on a porn set, but he had a pretty nice package, or so he thought, with a meaty 5" cock and two large, very oblong eggs.

"So I've read the stunt script and you're gonna' be doing a ton of upper body stuff. Hanging, climbing, carrying wounded characters across the set, and lots of shirtless scenes, so we are definitely going to be focusing on that hard."

John nodded and smiled, he was ready to get to work. Paul motioned John toward a preacher curl weight bench and John took a seat with his upper arm resting against the pad ready to do bicep curls.

Paul placed a small dumbbell in the actor's hand and his eyes widened at the surprisingly heavy weight. It felt an order of magnitude heavier than its small size suggested. 

"What's this thing made out of? Gold?" John joked and he used both hands to keep it steady.

"On the count of three, I want you to curl that with just your right arm as many times as you can until I say stop. One... two... three,"

John's face grimaced in the effort and he struggled to keep decent form as he curled the weight. Up and down, up and down. He could feel his bicep starting to burn but Paul just stood there carefully watching John and occasionally touching his watch.

"Okay, stop!" Paul barked after his watch gave a pleasant-sounding tone.

Paul dropped the weight and grasped his sore right bicep with his left hand.

"That's six," was all Paul said before picking up the weight and placing it into John's left hand.

"Okay, same thing with your left arm and... go!"

John pumped the weight over and over until his left bicep felt like it was on fire. He had to have done at least twenty reps but Paul only stood, carefully studying the movement of the actor's muscles and glancing at his watch.

"Okay, that's good. That's five."

"Five what?" John asked panting as he let the weight hit the ground. 

"Stand up," Paul ordered and John obediently complied.

Without a word, Paul stood face to face with John and placed his strong hands on his shoulders. Paul looked intensely into John's dark eyes and John assumed he was about to be given some inspirational speech. The whole thing almost seemed like a setup for an exercise montage from The Office.

"Oooomph!" 

John's eyes bulged and he screamed in surprise as Paul rammed his padded knee into his crotch six times rapidly. His leg moved with the speed and power of a mechanical piston and the stunned actor could barely believe he'd just been kneed six times so quickly.

"That was for the right bicep," Paul said cooly.

"What... the ... fuck man!"  

John's eyes crossed as he slowly slumped to his knees.

"Stand up!" Paul barked roughly.

John righted himself and had parted his lips to berate the eccentric, practically naked personal trainer when his eyes bugged out and his mouth formed a perfect 'O'.

WHAM! CRUNCH!

Five devastating, rapid knees compressed John's eggs into his pelvis and he moaned as he sunk to the floor.

"What the Hell, man!"

John coughed as he clutched his balls and rolled on the ground.

"That was for the left bicep,"

"The fuck?"

Paul's 'explanation' wasn't an explanation at all. 

After several minutes John was able to get to his knees, his face eye level with Paul's jock, and looked up at his trainer in confusion.

"What the Hell, dude!"

Paul smiled and offered his hand to help John back to his feet. John hesitantly accepted but kept a hand over his crotch as he stood just in case. His nuts were throbbing and he would have punched Paul in the face if it wasn't for Paul's stellar reputation - and obviously superior physical strength. Information about Paul's methods was an elusive mystery, even within the industry, and John was starting to figure out why.

"That was your motivation." Paul smiled patting John on the shoulder.

Paul reflexively flinched causing Paul's smile to broaden.

"Relax, Mr. Krasinski. I play by the rules,"

"Rules?" John was totally confused but did his best to block out his throbbing nuts as Paul started to explain.

"Remember the psychological evaluation you took when you first became my client?"

John nodded, "Yeah, how could I forget. Rapes are less intimate."

Paul smiled. He went on to elaborate that John fell into a very specific subset of men who respond well to the threat of emasculation, especially by another man. John let the trainer go on an extended diatribe using psychology words and concepts that, though they sounded legitimate, could have just been random gibberish to John's untrained ear. Finally, his nuts still throbbing and not particularly convinced, John snapped.

"That's enough Log Lady speak. When my agent hears about..."

John was instantly silenced as Paul rose his knee to his crotch, stopping just short as the heavy pad rested against the thespian's juicy berries. The two stood in the precarious pose, their eyes locked on each other, as Paul slowly took John's hand and placed it on the pouch of his jock. John could feel the heat radiating from Paul's large, heavy balls, and the straight actor was both disgusted yet fascinated by their sheer size.

Without moving his knee from John's crotch, Paul looked deep into Krasinski's eyes and whispered.

"I bet you're feeling disgusted, fascinated, maybe a bit of jealously right now. I also bet you're scared as shit that I'm gonna' crack your nuts wide open..."

Paul pressed his knee into John's crotch slowly increasing the pressure as he spoke.

"You're thinking about what you can do to stop me from just crushing 'em right now,"

"Oooh,"

John moaned as Paul pressed his knee further into his balls.  John could feel his nuts being flattened and deformed and started to panic...

"But you won't fight back. You, Mr. Krasinski, work on a perverted reward system. You want to impress me and do well in my class, with the 'reward' being I don't pop these..."

John's eyes crossed as Paul started bouncing his knee into his crotch.

"The threat of me bursting your scrotum open for failing is what's going to motivate you to succeed. Isn't it?"

John slowly shook his head 'yes'.

"Please don't...Oh shit!"

Paul slammed his knee over and over into John's crotch, feeling them warp and flatten under his knee. John cried out but, not to Paul's surprise, placed his hands behind his back and spread his legs.

"Stop! I'll do better!" John screamed and motioned for Paul to stop.

The adorable actor sank to the ground, landing on his knees clutching his balls and looking up at Paul whose babymakers were just inches away from John's face.  John moaned and rocked for nearly ten minutes before standing to his feet.

"So, um, how does this work?" he asked sheepishly.

Paul tapped the face of his watch and showed it to John. It was flashing large black random numbers against a green background 6, 0, 1, 0, 5... 

John watched in confusion. Paul tapped the screen and the background turned yellow. The numbers were still random but seemed higher: 10, 7, 9, 12...

He tapped the screen again. The screen turned red and instead of random numbers, seemingly random phrases appeared: Ruin him! Make him cry! Stomp him!...

With another tap, the screen went back to green.

"So I'm going to instruct you on workouts, watch your technique, monitor your progress. At the end of the set, your punishment is on the watch. If its a number, that's the number of kicks."

John nodded.

"So if I really don't like what I'm seeing, this happens,"

Paul tapped the screen twice, waited a moment then gave the screen a quick double-tap to stop the cycle. He chuckled as he showed John the screen.

John gulped and his hand subconsciously rested on his aching nuts.

The phrase "RUIN HIM!" was plastered across the screen.

"So you agree to work hard, to keep your motivation in the green zone?"

John nodded.

"Excellent, let's work your chest,"

Paul directed John to a bench press and placed several weight plates on the bar. John looked hesitant and Paul stood over him to be his spotter, his own heavy package hovering over the nervous action hero in training. 

"Don't worry, you can lift it,"  Paul said in a motivational tone that was quite bizarre considering the strange arrangement.

John took the bar in his hands and struggled to lift it, and his form was terrible on the way down.

Paul barked instruction "Don't arch your back! Straighten your arms!  Keep it level!"

"Get up!" Paul ordered. 

The watch read ten.

"Krasinski! It's like you're not listening to me at all,"

John looked at Paul pleadingly, knowing what was about to happen...

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! WHAAAAM!

John thought he was going to throw up as Paul landed ten no-holds, full power knees to his swelling nuts.  It was obvious Paul didn't care if he ruined John for his poor performance, and the thought terrifying and motivating. The sensation was odd, interesting but utterly horrible. John was going to do whatever it took not to piss off Paul.

Paul took the bench and demonstrated the move slowly and implored the actor to place his hands on his pecs and arms to really feel the movement. It wasn't sexual at all, John really could synthesize the movements by both seeing and feeling them and his brain took careful notes so that he might reverse-engineer them.

It was John's turn again and the set went much better. Though he struggled with the weight, his form was superior from his first attempt and he was well on his way to developing the foundational muscle memory on which he could start to build bulk and stamina.  He literally sighed in relief to see the watch read 'zero'.

They continued around the gym.  Sometimes Paul would get flustered as John flailed ridiculously at something, sending the watch into the yellow zone.  For the most part, John's motivational kicks were either zero or low numbers, but they were cumulatively adding up. John's nuggets had easily taken dozens of blows and were now quite swollen in red and the constant throb was becoming so distracting his brain was having trouble coordinating his sore muscles. Every muscle in John's sweaty upper body was awash in burning lactic acid as his instructor refused to give breaks between exercises. 

"I know it burns, but you gotta' push through. Filming starts soon. If I wanted to train a bitch I would've bought my wife," 

The emasculating insults flowed like water making John feel deflated yet motivated to prove them wrong. After nearly an hour John peeled out of his shirt to cool down his glistening, sore torso. It hurt like Hell but felt like Heaven and John literally growled at Paul, egging him to do his worst.

After a particularly sloppy set of lateral pull-downs during which John couldn't keep his back properly aligned - even on low weight - Paul stopped the watch on 20.

"No! Please, I'll do better..." John started to plead.

He pleaded with - but didn't attempt to physically stop - Paul as he gently pushed him backward until his back was against the wall with his hands behind his back.  Paul couldn't help but admire John's upper body. It lacked any real definition but was dripping sweat; The boyishly attractive and clearly committed actor was well on his way to being a smoldering, ripped action movie star.

"Paul, Paul, I'll do better... Ooooh! Oowwww! Plea--Oooh!"

Paul ignored John's pleas as he rammed his knee into the actor's defenseless crotch.  Paul could feel that John's balls were hideously swollen and felt much squishier than when they started, and much more pliable under his knee pad. Paul's leg was moving like a piston and by the tenth knee, he was grabbing Krasinki by the shoulders pulling him forward as he kicked to apply even more devastating force. John panicked for his manhood but gritted his teeth defiantly, occasionally letting out a defiant scream.

"If you keep fucking up, it's curtains for any more John Juniors," 

WHAM! CRUNCH!

"I'll do better!"

"You'd better!"

CRUUUNCH!

Paul delivered the final blow with vicious indifference. His knee collided with a truly sickening audible crunching. John's swollen right nut took the brunt and Paul chortled as he felt half of the wannabe action hero's manhood deform dangerously under his heavy knee pad. It was obvious he was doing real damage to the Krasinski family tree and the deep ache in the actor's stomach was coupled with a primal terror of losing his manhood, literally, to this alpha male. The only way to avoid getting neutered was to perform, John thought, and his motivation increased proportionately with the indescribable fear of being emasculated right there in the gym.

Paul let John slump to the ground where he nursed his swollen nuts through his shorts, alarmed at their size and sensitivity. He wanted to strip naked and make sure he was still a man but remembered he was still in the presence of the man who would have no problem stomping him out of the gene pool at the first opportunity so he decided to keep his balls hidden away.

"Come on, John. We're just getting started. Geesh, I should just neuter you know, you worthless quote-unquote male." Paul sneered as he however his shoe over John's crotch.

John growled and sprang to his feet.

"Piss off,"

"Oh really?" 

Paul grabbed for John's crotch and squeezed. Hard. John gasped and his eyes crossed as Paul's arms rippled and flexed from the strain. At this point, the unnaturally malleable bulge in his hand made it evident he was doing obvious damage but he could see from John's refocused eyes it was just the motivation he needed.

"Please, I'll do better! Please!" John pleaded hoarsely causing Paul to release his grip.

Paul grabbed John by his shaggy, sweat-matted hair and lead the actor back to the bench press like a man leading a dog. John obediently took his position but this time Paul wasn't spotting for him and there was even more weight added to the bar. John felt his heart flutter in fear as he grasped the bar, determined to impress his coach and power through the burning that had engulfed every muscle in his torso and arms.

"Come on, power through man," Paul snarled in a half-encouraging, half-taunting tone.

John tried desperately to power through, lifting the bar over and over, and although he was able to go through the motions, his form was sloppy and Paul's uncanny ability to scan a man's muscle movements made it obvious John wasn't performing the task up to bar. Paul barked and prodded Krasinksi to straighten up, but it was no use. John's muscles were burning, the pain from his crotch was clouding his head and he wasn't able to execute as cleanly as his coach demanded...

"Stop! Just fucking stop!" 

Paul tapped the watch and showed it to John.  His blood ran cold as he read the small circular screen.

"RUPTURE HIM!"

"No! Please I can do it again! Give me another chance..."

Paul grabbed John's matted hair, lifted him from the bench, and threw him to the floor. John landed with a thud in a spread eagle position and Paul lifted his foot over John's crotch. 

"Shorts off, now! I want you to fucking see this!"

John pulled off his shorts, begging Paul to give him another chance which Paul answered by kicking John in the ribs.  John gasped for breath and attempted to stand by Paul kept his foot firmly on John's chest.

"Lose the underwear! Do it!"

John obediently pulled his underwear to his knees allowing his blackish-red, swollen eggs to fall out onto the cold gym floor.  

"Please! Please! I'm sorry, I'll do better..."

"You should've thought about that before you signed up, bitch!" Paul roared.

John Krasinski let out a high pitched scream and blacked out as Paul's shoe stomped down onto his scrotum. Both testicles were compressed against the unyielding floor, flatter and flatter and flatter.

Paul looked down at the passed out actor and for a moment thought to give him mercy. After all, it was obvious John wasn't kidding around. He was in this to win. But Paul thought reinforcing John's ultimate fear would be the motivation needed to get him to camera-ready shape in the short time they had.  

The muscular trainer rose his foot over John's entirely defenseless nutsack and hovered for over a minute. He wished John was conscious for what was about to happen but was confident that he'd get the message either way. 

Without further ado, Paul stomped down as hard as he could, lifted his foot, took a hop, and landed full-force...

SQUIIISH

Paul landed on John's bloated scrotum. It was a lot of weight. Too much weight for John's practically cracked right egg. He felt half of John's entire world compress, warp, flatten... and then catastrophically implode.  John's head rolled though he was still blacked out and Paul thought hard.

"I hope he can keep being motivated with only half a sack."

After all, they still had several months before the Jack Ryan show started filming...

----

Note: This story introduces a new post tag 'Real People' for stories that feature the images and/or stats of real people (celebrities, readers, etc) appearing as themselves. I have to point out that these are works of fiction and do not reflect the actual people's sexual preferences or behaviors.  If you happen to be one of these people and somehow stumble upon this work and want your name/likeness taken down. Just shoot me a note! In other words: This is still fantasy fiction even if actual people, locations, brands, etc. are referenced :) 

I've gone back and retroactively tagged previous posts.

The Super Bet 4

This is a continuation of The Super Bet Part 3

The Super Bowl had long since ended but the games were still ongoing in the basement of the Tau Omega Chi fraternity house. Pledges Vance and Mark, who had been violently yanked from the gene pool, had been whisked away for treatment by Dr. Paulson the fraternity's no-questions-asked on-call doctor for such mishaps and the boys' attention now turned to pledges Alan and Connor.

Alan was a tall young man who sported a truly enormous pair of heavy, low hanging testicles and a ripped body that lacked even a semblance of fat.  Connor was a somewhat short blonde with modest-sized, but extremely low hanging nuts and both of them were equipped with meaty cocks that were at least five inches long even when flaccid.

They had both witnessed the destruction of Vance and Mark's berries and had almost escaped up the basement steps before being tackled and overpowered by their ravenous fraternity brothers.  Their underwear - the only article of clothing either had been wearing that evening - were quickly torn to shreds and the two were tied to the ceiling in a similar fashion as Vance and Mark had been and were facing each other. Their legs were trapped in a permanently spread position by ropes tied around their ankles and secured to bolts in the floor. The two were dripping with sweat, exhausted by the earlier struggle and Pip, Tom and several of the other watching brothers rubbed their own crotches at the sight of them. 

"Well brothers, whose up for another round?" Lyle asked and was greeted with thunderous cheers. 

Kent was up first and as he had done with Vance, he chose the heavy wooden baseball bat to slam with wreckless abandon into Alan's nuts.  Alan felt like his nuts had cracked and he let out a hideous high pitched scream that made the watching audience laugh and jeer.

"What's the matter, Big Nuts? Are they not as tough as they look?" Pip taunted. 

After landing several powerful blows Kent tossed the bat to Tom who took up position in front of Alan.  Alan closed his eyes in anticipation but surprisingly there was no pain. Instead, Tom had sent the bat sailing into Connor's fat sack causing it to bounce wildly.  Connor let out a scream as the bat collided rapidly three more times with sick, wet splats. Connor saw his sex life flash before his eyes after a final blow compressed his sack into his pelvis so hard it actually made Tom's arm vibrate up to the shoulder. 

Everyone cheered as Tom stepped back and Parker took his turn.  He eschewed tools and instead relied on his powerful legs which had been conditioned from years of long-distance running.  Parker bounced on his heels as if revving up his kicking engine while Alan's begging fell on deaf ears.  

CRUNCH!

The tip of Parker's shoe collided with the underside of Alan's ball bag and send it rocketing upward.  Alan thought he was going to pass out but was quickly snapped back to reality by another powerful kick.  His already large nuts were starting to swell and turn a rosy shade of pink and he howled as the pain echoed through his body.  Parker smiled as he took position in front of Connor.

"Parker... please man! Don't... Aaaaa!"

Parker kicked Connor so hard that his entire body was elevated. He could feel Connor's young nuts compress violently against his shoe and when he stepped back he was pleased to see that Connor's sack was also starting to swell. 

Next up were Cedric and his brother Winston who decided to make a little contest out of it. 

"Let's see who can crack a nut first," Cedric joked.

Cedric took Alan's left nut in his hand and Winston took the right one, holding the hot, shockingly dense orbs in their hands before unleashing synchronized devastating squeezes.  Alan wailed and the watching crowd hooted and cheered as the Cedric and his brother's biceps flexed and bulged from the effort being exerted. 

"Pop it, dude!" Pip cheered.

"I think Winston is winning,"

"Fuck yeah!" 

Cedric and Winston glared at each other in friendly competition as they both tried desperately to be the first to feel the satisfying crunch of half of Alan's sex life being extinguished.  Alan's eyes rolled into his head as they continued to squeeze and knead his orbs, and both brothers were shocked at how incredibly dense they felt.

"It's like squeezing a rock!" Cedric laughed.

The viscous assaulted lasted for only a few minutes but it was enough for Alan's swollen nuts to take on a fiery red by the time the two brothers had finally stepped back.

Axel stepped up next holding the pliers and smiling at Alan as he approached. 

"No! No! Dude!" 

Alan struggled against his bonds but that only made his vulnerable balls bounce helplessly in place. Axel snared Alan's right bollock and began to squeeze.  The pliers hadn't been fixed since the last round and were still mechanically capable of closing fully but Axel exercised amazing restraint in only compressing the ball just enough to have Alan howl, but not enough to finish the deed. Alan's huge nut bulged and oozed between the pliers and despite Pip and some others egging him to just finish it off, Axel refrained.  Instead, he slowly closed the jaws so that they were nearly closed, opened them, then repeated. This happened over and over and by the end of Axel's turn, Alan's right nut was hideously swollen and turning purple. It still looked whole but Alan was sure Axel had already done damage.

The brothers gave the pledges a brief respite, drinking beer and casually chatting amongst themselves totally ignoring Alan and Connor's pleads.  The break was short but felt mercifully long to Alan who had so far taken the bulk of the abuse.  

Pip grabbed an enormous dildo from the table and used it to whack Alan's swelling balls like he was trying to break a pinata. The dildo was firm but much more flexible than a bat and the blows wouldn't have even registered had Alan's hadn't already been assaulted so violently.  Alan cried and begged Pip to stop which, to Alan's surprise, he did immediately.  But the mischievous look on Pip's face made it obvious what was about to happen next.

"FUCK!"  

Alan howled in a deep baritone as Pip rammed all twelve inches of the sex toy into his unprepared ass. Alan's muscular cheeks reflexively tightened around it as Pip slowly pulled the dildo in and out perfectly hitting his prostate with every stroke.  Alan couldn't help but moan as his cock started to inflate.

"Holy fuck!" Monty shouted in genuine surprise as Alan's cock reached ten thick inches and was still swelling. 

Trevor took the pliers from Axel and clamped them onto Alan's hanging left nut and squeezed. Hard.

Alan's eyes bugged out as the pliers were nearly closed shut and his bull nut bulged obscenely between them looking like it was going to simply burst.  Despite the pain, Pip's expert use of the dildo continued to fuel Alan's dick which was now at its full, astounding thirteen inches.  

"Jesus man! He's a donkey!" someone jeered to laughter.

"Alan!" Connor cried out as his buddy's junk was assaulted.

Trevor didn't let up compressing Alan's dense nut and was fully prepared to feel it crack at any moment.  Monty stepped up and took Alan's other nut and started to squeeze, pull and twist until the chords were wrapping around themselves.

"Aeeee!" Alan was hysterical as Trevor and Monty laid waste to his manhood.

"Pleeeeease!" 

Trevor released the pliers and Monty let go of the nut he was holding and the two gave each other high fives as Tom picked up the bat. It landed with a loud splat against Connor's nuggets and he dry heaved as the bat rained down blow after blow.  By now Alan's left nut looked permanently indented and Connor's sack had swollen to nearly twice its normal size, hanging below his legs like a wounded animal.  The watching boys cheered as Kent walked up to Connor holding a lit lighter.

Connor screamed and struggled as Kent held the lighter below his hanging nuts, the flame barely out of range but the intense heat causing his nuts to sweat and their contents to boil.  Kent held the lighter as Connor sobbed, knowing for sure Kent wasn't going to stop until his nuts were fried. 

Pip stopped fucking Alan but left the dildo firmly pressed against his prostate and stood back to admire his handiwork.  

"Let me have a crack at them," came Lyle.

Kent finally extinguished the flame and Connor's nuts had a purplish-black welt where the lighter had been concentrated.  Lyle picked up the mallet and proceeded to use it as a club, whacking Connor's eggs violently. The huge organs swung and bounced so fast they were a blur but Lyle's aim remained deadly accurate as Connor felt his left nut starting to crack.

Alan's cock was still rock hard as Tom took the bat to his sack.  The basement was filled with the pledges' screams, the sick squishy impacts of bats and mallets landing on unprotected testicles and the brothers hooting and egging each other on.  The boys quickly rotated their turns, only getting in a few blows before the next guy stepped up and Connor and Alan's nuts were being destroyed in unison, though none of the four had actually broken.  They were swollen, bruised, covered in welts and cuts and throbbing, but incredibly still entirely whole. 

Noticing that Alan's cock stayed rock hard through the entire beating, an incredibly cruel idea struck Pip.  He had seen something in a slasher flick that had given him a burst of inspiration.

"Guys!"

Whack!

CRUNCH

Trevor, Kent, Tom, and Axel, who were simultaneously going to town on Alan and Connor's packages.

SPLOTCH!

One of Alan's nuts shattered in the bag causing the handsome stud to instantly blackout.

"Guys, hang on a second!" Pip shouted. 

BLOOOSH

Alan's final whale nut imploded, splattering the inside of his sack as Trevor grinned holding the shut pliers around it.

"I've got an idea," 

Pip took a length of thin rope and tied it around the base of Alan's cock, amazed at how thick the tool was. He attached the other around Connor's nutsack, creating a tight noose.

"Oh fuck! It's like that movie!" Tom screamed and nearly blew his load at the prospect of what was about to happen.

Connor pleaded, not entirely sure what their brothers were planning, but the group continued setting up the grand finale.  Trevor and Kent untied Alan's arms from the ceiling and quickly bound them behind his back whilst another brother untied the rope around his ankles.  Alan was now standing freely but his cock was attached to Connor's junk. 

Connor's eyes grew huge and he screamed and begged as he realized what the boys were planning to do which only made Pip and the other cackle evilly.

"I think we should see how strong this horse dick really is!"

Pip gave a running start and rammed his shoulder into Alan's well-defined chest. As Alan's muscular body fell, the rope attaching his dick to Connor's scrotum - which was barely long enough to gap the distance between them in the first place - became so taut that it instantly arrested his fall. Alan's cock was yanked and Connor was bellowing as the half-fallen jock hung from his balls.

Meanwhile, the loop around Connor's sack was being pulled forward forcing his balls to balloon to the front of his sack and causing the skin to instantly turn blood red.  Connor's balls were now literally holding up Alan's entire weight. He wailed and desperately tried to step forward to ease the tension but he was secured to the spot.

As the watching frat brothers watched, Alan was suspended mid-fall and for a moment nothing happened. His enormous cock was turning purple as it was now essentially supporting most of his weight, but Connor and Alan were in a macabre equilibrium for the moment.

"Ten bucks says his cock breaks first!"

"Naw, I think Connor's balls are gonna' get ripped off first."

"My money's on donkey dick,"

The boys continued to hoot and debate which of the oversized sex organs was going to fail first - Alan's super dong or Connor's sagging nuts.  Suddenly Alan lowered several inches toward the ground and Connor's balls were stretched even further away from his body. His begging and howling had become a frenetic baritone cacophony and the nasty shade of red Alan's penis was turning didn't bode well for his ability to be doing any more fucking.

"Oooooh!" 

Connor blacked out and his body became limp as his left testicle catastrophically burst in his sack. The chunks pulled ever forward in his bag. The chords attaching his remaining nut to his body were starting to fail as his sack was stretched further and further, allowing Alan's body to lower more and more.  Unfortunately for the tall stud, it wasn't enough relief on his abused horse cock...

SNAA-CRUNCH

Alan's eyes bolted open and his mouth was stuck in a permanent 'O', though no sound came out.  His thirteen-inch penis was pulled violently at the same time it was tugging on Connor's balls and the entire thing snapped at the base. It was still technically attached but the gruesome, unnatural bend made it clear Alan's days of pussy pounding were over.  As he continued to fall toward the ground the last internal tissues attaching Connor's nut to this body snapped and the swollen gonad was now just floating freely in his sack.

"It's gonna' break dude!" Pip laughed pointing at Alan's cock.

Indeed, the massive tool was now being pulled several inches away from his body as he slowly lowered to the ground.

"Oooooh!" 

Alan rejoined Connor in unconsciousness just before his cock reached its terminal limit.

RIIIIIIIIIIP

Alan's cock was destroyed, and though it hadn't been pulled completely off, every fiber connecting it to his crotch had been internally torn away causing the still hard monster to deform hideously like someone had taken a clay sculpture of a penis and stretched until the base was exceptionally thin, barely supporting the massive column above it. The watching frat boys were surprised the entire thing hadn't just been torn clean off, especially after the gross tearing sound it had just made.

"Well, I think the balls won!" Axel chortled.

Everyone laughed.

A Case of Mistaken Identity

"So are we meeting up soon or what?"

Bruce, or as those online knew him BallsToMush83, pecked out his latest response to the BustersAndBuddies.com conversation he had been having with SexySurfer for nearly a month.  SexySurfer had reached out to Bruce out of the blue saying that he was turned on by Bruce's screen name and was excited to finally find someone else nearby who was into no-holds-barred ballbusting and wrestling.

At first, Bruce assumed that he would have SexySurfer's balls in his hands within a matter of minutes but it was now a month into the back and forth and although SexySurfer claimed to be as hardcore as Bruce it was becoming apparent he was more interested in feeding his fantasy via online chat than actually meeting.  The only thing Bruce knew about SexySurfer was that he had large balls, even though he never provided a picture, and he was a middle-aged white man from the next town over with nice, if not particularly studly, stats.

Bruce had been down this path before, guys getting him worked up describing all the brutal things they wanted to be done to them only for them to vanish into thin air.  Bruce assumed SexySurfer was no different which is why he was surprised by the ding alerting him that he had a message from him almost immediately.

"Sorry man, been busy with work.  Let's stop fucking around and let's get these babies into your vice ASAP.  Message me on WhatsApp, my number is 404-555-6783."

Attached to the message were two photos.  One was an enormous dildo that SexySurfer said he used for practice and the other only showed the over-stuffed pouch of a pair of tight white underwear.

Bruce's face lit up and he immediately grabbed his phone, launched his messaging app, and shot SexySurfer a note...

Daniel Wang hurriedly scrolled to the bottom of the multi-page terms of service for BustersAndBuddies.com, the final step in setting up an account on the website, and pushed 'accept' before he had read a single word.

On the outside Daniel Wang was strikingly vanilla, an actuarial accountant, hardly the type of person one would expect to be making a profile on one of the least-vanilla S&M meetup sites on the internet.  He was in his mid-thirties, six foot eight, and reasonably fit, with a flat stomach and toned arms and legs.  Before signing up for BustersAndBuddies his most scandalous online activity was 'liking' politically incorrect memes on Facebook, but he had been interested in wrestling - particularly with moves that focused on his over-sized nuts - for some time.   He had read dozens of stories about it online and had even gotten into a few friendly tussles at his gym but Daniel wanted more.  

As Daniel scrolled through the profiles of men around him he was shocked to see so many local guys, a few he even recognized from other more mainstream websites.  Maybe his fetish wasn't as out there as he thought.  As he browsed the profiles, Daniel got rock hard reading about all of the things guys were looking for on the site.  Wrestling with fucking, milking, ballbusting, skull fucking and the descriptions left nothing to the imagination.

"Looking for a guy who wants to help me test this out" was the caption next to a picture of a woodworking vice that had the phrase 'Castration Station 2000' branded into it. 

Another man was looking for a guy to get on his knees, legs spread, and get violently skull fucked by his fat nine-inch cock while he mercilessly kicked the sucker's balls with his steel-toed boots.  Daniel stroked his cock as he watched the accompanying amateur video.  Some young twink was literally gagging on the largest cock Daniel had ever seen while his low hanging nuts were used like soccer balls, bouncing and jiggling, and turning bright red. Daniel fondled his own large, heavy nuts just imaging what that must feel like.

A ridiculously hot stud literally one block away was looking for a guy wanting to be fucked doggy style wearing a wrestling singlet with a strategically placed hole ripped into it.  This is fucking hot, Daniel thought.

Daniel was still feeling too new, and a little overwhelmed, to make the first contact with anyone and was just about to close his laptop when he got a WhatsApp notification on his phone.

"Hey it's Bruce from BustersAndBuddys. So, you really want to wrestle and get your balls busted?"

Daniel held the phone in confusion.  He hadn't even messaged anyone on the site yet but the message that was clearly from one of the men on the site.

Without thinking, Daniel responded "Hell yes!"

As Daniel waited for the mystery man to reply, he quickly checked his profile settings and saw that his phone number was listed but it was marked to only be shared if Daniel approved.  Maybe this guy was one of the high-paying premium members who had access to the information anyway, Daniel concluded without another thought.  Daniel's profile pic hadn't been approved yet so was still blank, and his stats weren't particularly impressive he thought, but maybe Bruce was turned on by his profile headline "New Guy Looking to Be Shown the Ropes and Get My Nuts Cracked!"

Within an hour Daniel and Bruce had set up their first meeting, that coming weekend at Bruce's house an hour away in nearby Cumming, Georgia.  Daniel was shocked at how many of his fantasy checkboxes Bruce checked off; milking, ballbusting, fucking, wrestling.  It was as if Bruce was reading his mind.  At one point Daniel asked Bruce for a link to his profile, which Bruce seemed to find odd, and Daniel fell in lust with what he saw.  Bruce was five foot nine, shorter than he was, but with a powerful broad chest, ridiculous biceps and thick legs.  He had strong, square chin, emerald eyes and thick black hair, an exceptionally hot guy made all the more by the fact he was posing in wrestling gear that only made him look that much more intimidating.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough for Daniel and he found himself speeding down the expressway to get to the rendezvous.  On the surface Daniel looked totally normal, wearing loose-fitting khakis and a white button-up shirt, but underneath he was wearing a new red wrestling singlet with no underwear.  He made sure to get a size that was slightly too small to show off his bubble butt and meaty testicles and to give a bit of pleasurable pain when his hard cock strained against the too-tight fabric.

He arrived at Bruce's house just after eight in the evening. It was a modest ranch at the top of a cul-de-sac, hardly the kind of place to run into a serial killer he laughed, though he had taken the prudent step of telling some friends exactly where he was going for a 'cocktail party'.

Daniel's heart was pounding as he made his way up the walk and rang the bell. Bruce swung the door open quickly as if he had been waiting just on the other side.

Daniel tried to hide his nervousness as he stood at the entryway waiting for Bruce to usher him in, but Bruce just stood there eyeing him curiously.  I thought he was white, Bruce thought as we eyed the handsome Asian standing in front of him. Clearly, he had confused that detail - after all, he chatted regularly with several guys - and his rugged face broke into a broad mischievous grin as he envisioned everything was going to do to the willing stud standing before him.  Bruce stood aside and Daniel made his way into the house, his heart quickened when he heard the door close behind him.  This is it, he thought.  

For several seconds Daniel stood in the entryway simply admiring the handsome man in front of him.  Bruce's pictures were hot, almost pornographic, but even they didn't do justice to the real deal. His hair was a bit shaggier than the photo but his eyes were several orders of magnitude more green and Daniel felt himself being drawn into them. Bruce was incredibly handsome but unassuming and Daniel felt instantly more relaxed by the casual air he was radiating.  He was wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt that showcased his amazing body without overtly showing off and his face had rested on a calming, welcoming smile.

"Well, you know my name is Bruce, but I never got your real name, man." 

"Daniel here." 

"Nice to finally meet you, man!" 

Bruce gave Daniel a tight hug, pressing his huge pecs and tight body into Daniel.

"Likewise. Not gonna' lie I'm a little nervous. I've never done anything like this before, just read about it and watched videos,"

Bruce lead Daniel through the house toward the basement steps.  Daniel's statement that he hadn't done anything like this before struck Bruce as odd considering he claimed to be quite experienced during their chats, but Bruce dismissed it. Lots of guys he had met talked a bigger game than they walked and he found Daniel's candidness about being inexperienced to be refreshing.

As the two stood at the top of the basement stairs Daniel's heart was pounding and his trepidation must have been apparent even through his best efforts to project calm.  Bruce noticed and put his hand gently on Daniel's shoulder.

"Look man, I'm just looking to have some fun. Same as you. If you ever, ever feel uncomfortable just tell me to stop. Just say 'stop'. Okay? I don't want your first time to suck." 

Bruce leaned in and kissed Daniel's neck and Daniel instantly felt calmer.

Daniel nodded and the two made their way into the basement.  The brightly lit basement had an open floor plan that seemed larger than the house above and was totally unobstructed by walls or partitions. A wrestling mat was in the middle of the floor and along the wall was a shelf filled with assorted toys that Daniel looked at excitedly as he walked by.  There was coiled rope, bottles of lube, a TENS unit, dildos, a ball crusher, butt plugs, humblers, mallets, and other instruments Daniel couldn't immediately identify.  His heart raced at the prospect.

"So, show me what you're working with," Bruce barked as they were standing in the middle of the wrestling mat.

Daniel nearly ripped off his shirt and stepped out of his pants and Bruce's eyes lit up at the taught, fit body stuffed into the too-small red singlet.  Bruce spun Daniel around to really soak in the site and he could feel his cock starting to harden looking at Daniel's perfectly sculpted ass, tone body, and bulging crotch.

"Holy mother," Bruce said staring at Daniel's crotch.

Daniel's hefty balls made too distinct lumps in the Lycra and his slowly inflating cock was making a third, thick tubular-shaped bulge that was hard to miss.  Daniel's nuts seemed even bigger than they had in the photo and Bruce felt his cock stiffening thinking about all of the ways he was going to red-line those beefy fuckers. 

"Daniel, man. You're hot,"

Daniel blushed as the obviously more muscular jock admired him.

"Dude, don't blush. You're a sexy fucker.  I love hot, nerdy types," Bruce said with a wink.

"Because they're always the filthiest, nastiest fuckers. All of that pent up sex drive,"  Bruce's cock twitched.

Bruce excused himself and bounded upstairs returning quickly wearing a white singlet that made Daniel's cock instantly rock hard. The well-fitting garment had a button fly and left little to the imagination as it wrapped over Bruce's studly body. Between his thick hairy legs was a nice sized bulge and a clearly outlined hard cock. Daniel's eyes opened wide as the six-inch, thick monster seemed to pulsate under the uniform and he licked his lips subconsciously as he thought about the ramming Bruce was about to unleash. 

"Okay, let's go, stud!" 

Bruce growled as he lunged at Daniel.  Quickly the two were on the mat grappling and rolling around, their bodies pressed against each other in a sensual dance as each tried to get the first pin.  Daniel was surprised how capable he was against his more powerful opponent but he soon found himself pinned to the mat with Bruce's muscular thighs straddling his torso and his arms held against his sides.  Daniel struggled mightily and his face must have flashed genuine panic because Bruce quickly let go of his arms and lifted some of his crushing weight from Daniel's chest.

"Remember, you if you ever feel weird, just say stop, okay?"  

Bruce's voice was dripping with lust yet there was a note of sincere concern that gave Daniel a burst of energy.

"You wish!" 

Bruce was stunned as Daniel expertly turned the tables, flipping him on his back before assuming the same straddling maneuver he had just fallen victim to.

"Nice, buddy!"  Bruce roared as he felt Daniel's legs pressed into his body.

Bruce slipped from under the hold and before Daniel had realized it Bruce had him in a position to execute a perfect screw lock throw.

"Ooomph!"

Daniel gasped as he was thrown onto the mat but managed to roll away and regain his footing before Bruce came in for the pin. Bruce attempted to get Daniel into another lock but Daniel quickly turned it around so that he was the one lifting Bruce.

"Fuck!" 

Bruce's body fell to the mat with a loud thud and Daniel wasted no time getting on top of him, pressing the wriggling jock in place. Daniel's cock was throbbing as it pressed against Bruce, distracting him just enough for Bruce to spring back to his feet, knocking Daniel aside like a rag doll.  The two tussled grunting and groaning as they tried to lift the other or force him to the ground.  Bruce got Daniel into a headlock before slamming him to the mat, which Daniel recovered from quickly enough to knock Bruce to the ground with a leg sweep.

"Fucker!" 

Bruce roared as he lunged at Daniel anew.  Daniel had sparred with guys at the gym but never anything like this.  Bruce wasn't holding back and soon Daniel's body was sore and aching from the multiple body slams and leg locks Bruce was unleashing. They both started dripping sweat as the wrestling match continued.  Bruce was pleasantly surprised by Daniel's abilities and stamina and took great pleasure every time he managed to drop the Asian hunk to the mat.  

"Oooooh!" 

Daniel landed on his back after a particularly brutal body slam and lay motionless, groaning as Bruce stood over him.

Bruce, panting and sweating, held out his hand to help Daniel back to his feet.  Bruce's taught abs ached with worry when Daniel didn't immediately respond.

"You okay, man?" 

"Never better!"

Daniel grabbed Bruce's arm and flipped him onto this back in a single well-executed move.  Bruce was momentarily stunned as Daniel grabbed him by the hair and lifted him to his feet, twisting him around like a rag doll and locking Bruce's arm painfully behind his back.

Bruce growled and nearly dislocated his shoulder as he broke free of the hold and got Daniel into a headlock.  Daniel tried to break free but that just made Bruce grip harder before lifting him into the air and slamming him down.  Daniel landed with a sickening thud and saw stars as Bruce jumped on top of him, pinning him to the mat.  The match continued non-stop until Bruce had finally worn down Daniel's stamina enough to get him into a standing lock Daniel was too weak to escape from.  

Daniel's entire body ached, he was probably covered in bruises and he was dripping with sweat but he had never felt better.  Bruce was standing behind Daniel holding his arm painfully behind his back and pressing his throbbing cock against Daniel's bubble butt.

"You ready to give up yet?" 

Daniel swooned as he felt Bruce's hot breath against his ear. For a moment he contemplated breaking free but his lust got the better of him.

"Yes, sir,"  

Bruce grinned as he released Daniel from the hold and shoved him to the ground on his knees.

"Get on all fours!" 

Daniel obliged and yelped in surprise as Bruce grabbed the material near his asshole, ripping at the fabric until it opened like tissue paper.  Before Daniel could even protest - as if he would - Bruce's cock was slamming into his hole. Daniel moaned and occasionally screamed out as Bruce plowed into him piston fucking his hole like his life depended on it.  Bruce put his hands on Daniel's shoulders for extra support as he really started pile driving into the hot wrestler, squealing in delight as he ravaged Daniel's tight ass. Without warning, Bruce pulled out, flipped Daniel onto his back and lifted his legs onto his shoulders.

"Oh fuck... oooh!"

Daniel's eyes rolled into his head as Bruce plowed into him in a semi-squatting position, making sure every inch of his ridiculously thick cock was getting serviced.  Daniel's own cock was throbbing and Bruce thought was going to bust his nut right there but stopped himself, pulling out but leaving his dripping cock pointing straight out of his singlet.  Daniel fell to the ground moaning before Bruce jumped onto him with his elbow out.

"Fuck!" 

Daniel screamed as Bruce's elbow collided with crushing force into this crotch.  He had barely registered the pain before Bruce was on top of him grabbing his bulging nuts and squeezing as hard as he could.  Daniel let out a high pitch yodel as he attempted to claw at Bruce's bulging arms in a weak attempt to get free but it was obvious Bruce had the upper hand.  Slowly Bruce stood up, forcing Daniel to join him lest his nuts get ripped off until the two were standing staring into each other's eyes as Bruce continued to viciously crush them.  The pain was incredible, really the only thing Daniel could focus on other than Bruce's piercing green eyes, and for a brief minute he thought about screaming out 'stop'.  But something made him hold back.

"Ooomph!" 

Daniel clutched his crotch and fell to his knees after Bruce delivered a devastating knee to his nuggets.

"Round two, fucker," Bruce said with a smile.

He lifted Daniel by the hair and as soon as he was standing upright, he proceeded to knee him in the nuts again. And again.  The two tussled, Daniel nearly exhausted at this point but Bruce finding his second wind.  The match proceeded much like the first bout only this time Bruce was concentrating below the belt.  Headlocks were mixed with ball squeezes and every time Bruce got Daniel down on the mat he rewarded himself with a devastating pile drive directly into Daniel's swelling nuts.  At one point Bruce clamped onto Daniel's bulge and lifted him several inches from the ground holding only his balls before slamming him to the mat.  Daniel wailed as Bruce proceeded to lift him again by the balls before tossing him to the corner of the ring.  

Daniel was barely able to get on all fours which was just the opening Bruce needed.

"Fuck!"

Daniel's tight muscular body was lifted off the ground as Bruce slammed his foot into the inviting bulge between his legs. He fell to the ground on his belly whimpering and Bruce swooped down and flipped him on his back. Daniel's eyes grew huge as he realized what was about to happen next...

CRUNCH!

Bruce sent his knee crashing into Daniel's nuts over and over.  The pain was boiling in his belly but through it all his cock stayed rock hard trapped in the singlet. The site was too much for Bruce who sent his hard cock into Daniel's hole like a piston as he proceeded to knead and crush his nuts with his strong hands.  Daniel wailed and whimpered, his cock starting to drip, as Bruce absolutely owned his hole and his nuts.

"Looks like someone wants to play too,"

Without stopping his wild fucking, Bruce tore at the fabric over Daniel's crotch and opened a hole just large enough for Daniel's large, swollen nuts and painfully hard cock to tumble out.

"Hang tight, stud,"  

Bruce left Daniel to wallow in pain as he fetched as a bottle of lube and an acrylic ball crusher from the shelf.  Daniel had seen crushers like it in videos but had never used one but it was obvious Bruce was well experienced as he was able to slip on the device with surprising speed.  Daniel's cock protruded through the carefully placed hole in the crusher while his red fat nuts were pressed between the plates. 

Before he started to tighten the wingnuts Bruce looked into Daniel's eyes and smiled.

"If this gets too intense, just say stop. Okay?" 

Daniel nodded as Bruce started to turn the screws. At first, he couldn't feel much pressure but after a few turns, he screamed as his balls suddenly bulged and flattened out under the plates.  He looked down to see his nuts had turned into flattened patties appearing white under the pressure of the crusher. The visual was both amazingly hot and horrifying at the same time.  Bruce stopped turning the screws and looked as Daniel as if seeking permission to continue.  Daniel nodded and Bruce's cock visibly twitched as the gave the screws several more turns.  The pain was hideous yet numbing and Daniel screamed as his fat nuts were flattened between the thick plastic plates. 

Bruce, satisfied that the crusher was tight enough for now, turned his attention to Daniel's throbbing cock.  It was slightly larger than his own with a perfect mushroom head and thin veins coursing over the surface.  It looked swollen to bursting and Bruce knew exactly what he was going to do with it.  He squirted a liberal amount of lube into this palm and began to stroke Daniel's cock slowly.

"Oooh! Oooh fuck..." 

Daniel's eyes fluttered and for a brief moment, he was able to ignore the drumming pain coming from his balls as Bruce expertly stroked him, up and down, playing with the head, teasing slow strokes.  Daniel's back arched and it was everything he could do not to swat Bruce's hands away and finish himself off but he decided to cede control to the handsome jock.  Bruce continued to milk Daniel whilst occasionally tightening the screws, sending waves of nauseating pain through his body.  His balls felt incredibly flat and Bruce was showing no signs he was about to stop.  The torturous milking continued until Daniel was nearly delirious from the urge to spray all over himself.  That was apparently Bruce's queue.

"Aaaah..."

Bruce slipped his cock into Daniel, slowly fucking him while he continued to milk his cock giving just enough stimulation to keep Daniel rock hard but not enough to get him over the edge.  At the same time, he used his free hand to tighten the screws alternating from ball to ball in rhythm to his stroking.

Daniel thought he was going to pass out as his nuts were redlined under the crusher.  He looked down to see that his normally rotund nuts were now compressed to dense, flat patties and Bruce was still flattening them.  He screamed in agony as Bruce tightened flatter and flatter.

"You don't want kids anyway, right?"  Bruce growled as he gave both screws several rapid turns. 

Daniel briefly fainted before snapping back to reality, but Bruce wasn't stopping.  

"Oh fuck, here they go..."

Daniel's nuts got flatter and flatter.

"Oooooh!"

Bruce was now furiously stroking Daniel's cock and wasn't letting up at all with tightening the screws.  His lubed fingers struggled to turn them as Daniel's squashed testicles resisted any further deformation.  He was moaning and fucking Daniel with powerful thrusts, milking his cock, and destroying his balls.

"Aaaaaa!" 

Daniel thought he was going to vomit from pain at the same time his cock gave a final twitch.

Bruce continued stroking Daniel's twitching cock, enjoying the site of the writhing stud under him.

"That's right. Give it to me, give it to... Oh fuck! Holy shit!"

A jet of cum rocketed out so powerfully that it hit Bruce's face with an audible splat.  Then another and another.  Daniel writhed in beautiful agony as Bruce unleashed his own copious load into his guts, not stopping his stroking of Daniel's spent dick.  By now Daniel's nuts were dangerously flat, pressed to their limit against the plastic plates as Bruce took the wingnuts in his hands and gave them three final turns.  Daniel was flopping around and screaming in agony and pleasure as Bruce continued to milk the shit out of his cock.

Bruce gave the wingnuts another turn. Daniel's testicles bulged and turned an unhealthy shade of red.

Another squeeze.

Part of Daniel didn't want Bruce to stop but he was finally able to override his demons and scream out.

"Stop! Please stop!"

Bruce continued to stroke Daniel's still-hard cock as he slowly loosened and then removed the crusher.  Daniel's nuts returned to their normal, plump shape in short order and the handsome stud grabbed at his crotch and rolled around.  Bruce was impressed at the amount of abuse Daniel was willing to take during his first encountered and his mind raced with fun scenarios he wanted to try on their next meeting...

Nearly an hour passed after their session had ended and Daniel, in his sweaty, cum stained singlet, was still riding a wave of euphoria.  He was sitting in Bruce's living room reflecting on the amazing experience he had just had when Bruce walked in from the kitchen wearing only his jeans and holding two beers.  Daniel gladly accepted one and the two toasted as Bruce took a seat next to him.

"That was fucking hot, dude," Bruce said running his hand gently through Daniel's matted hair.

"Yeah, it was. Wow..." Daniel took a swig of beer before continuing.

"Thank you again. I still can't believe I met you right after I joined the site! I should be in one of their ads," Daniel joked.

Bruce rose an eyebrow in confusion.

"What? We've been chatting for months,"

Bruce pulled out his phone and handed it to Daniel. On the screen was the conversation between Bruce and SexySurfer.  Daniel scrolled through quizzically. The time stamps on the conversation started months before Daniel had joined the fetish meetup site.  He continued scrolling, his cock getting hard again at the graphic discussion until he reached the last message:

"Sorry man, been busy with work.  Let's stop fucking around and let's get these babies into your vice ASAP.  Message me on WhatsApp, my number is 404-555-6783."

Daniel's eyes grew huge and he nearly dropped the phone in surprise. 

"What's the matter?" Bruce asked.

Daniel turned to him and gave him a huge shit face grin.

"My number is 404-555-678... 6." he said taking another drink as he handed back the phone.

Bruce's eyes lit up with realization.

"Holy shit! Wow!" was all he could manage to say.  

"Yeah, no shit. What a lucky misdial," Daniel laughed.

Bruce nodded and they both laughed loudly at the bizarre situation.

"You mean this whole time you thought I was that guy?" Daniel asked.

Bruce nodded yes.

"Well, you were a helluva lot more fun than that flake," Bruce said giving Daniel a peck on the cheek.

"Hey, I have an idea. Let me see your phone,"

Bruce handed Daniel the phone and he proceeded to type out a short message.  Before he could even hand the phone back the incoming message tone rang. Bruce read the message and chuckled; this time it was a reply from the actual SexySurfer that read:

"HEY MAN, GLAD YOU MESSAGED. SO YOU HAVE A FRIEND THERE? SWEET! CAN I COME OVER TOO??"

Bruce and Daniel gave each other knowing, devious grins. 

"Are you up for another round?" Bruce asked.

"Hell yes!" Daniel shouted as Bruce pecked out a single word reply:

"YES."

Big thanks to Daniel for letting me craft his fantasy and for the use of the image.  Wanna' be featured? Email me at trumansmith [at] gmail.com, or better yet volunteer for Rupture Fest 2020 here :)