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.