Family Feud: Fathers & Sons Go Nuts! Part 1 of ?

It was a sun-soaked summer day and the expansive, manicured lawn behind Mr. Garza's country cottage seemed to stretch forever before butting up to thick woods on the horizon. Sunlight glinting off the windows of a farmhouse far in the distance marked the nearest neighbor. As planned, Mr. Garza and his guests would be left alone for their afternoon of fun. Aside from himself, Mr. Garza was joined by a handful of handsome young men wearing tidy white polo shirts and khakis and ten other men in brightly colored polos. They were all milling about two picnic tables laid out with refreshments and though they were all prattling among themselves the atmosphere felt tense. 

The men in the colored shirts were five fathers with their eldest son and together they ranged in age from the fifties to teens, with each pair wearing matching colored polos with their family name printed on the back and most were wearing shorts on account of the oppressive heat. Garza let them continue chatting as he and two of his young assistants methodically walked the grounds verifying that everything was properly set up for the games to come. Satisfied that everything was ready, Garza called the five father-and-son pairs to gather around a small podium as a dozen assistances stood along the side.

"So I have the patriarch and oldest heir of the five best families in the county and we all know what you're here for!" Garza shouted.

There was a hoot as the fathers and sons all gave each other high fives. All of them had been looking forward to this special 'family picnic' for weeks and the anticipation was palpable. Garza gestured to a whiteboard that had been set up on the lawn and was attended by another handsome uniformed blonde holding a marker. All five family names had been written neatly across the top: Speckin, Gordon, Jackson, Parker, and Meade. Along the side of the board were the names of the various games that were to be played; so far all of the squares on the scoreboard were blank.

"So you all remember the rules, don't you?"

Of course, all of them had become very familiar with the day's rules from their information packets and had been practicing for months, but just in case Garza decided he should give them one final primer in case any of the teams decided to forfeit before the games began.

The afternoon would be filled with multiple consecutive events all taking place on the lawn, facilitated by Garza and aided by his squad of buff assistance who could - should things get out of hand - also double as the event's security. However, considering how deep into it the five families were it was unlikely any of them would back out or cause trouble at this point. After each event, the players would be scored independently and the pair with the lowest cumulative score would have to submit to a brutal, no-holds-barred busting by the pair with the highest score. If any of them should suffer permanent damage, the entire team would be disqualified and the remaining member of the team would be summarily snuffed from the gene pool by the person with the highest score tally. Garza pointed to a variety of instruments laid out of a nearby picnic table, though he was sure these players would opt for knees, kicks, stomps and other non-tool-assisted techniques to reduce the mating population. At the end of the game, the player with the highest score would get to destroy the player with the lowest score, even if they happened to be in the same pair. 

"Hope you didn't want any more kids, pops!" 

Max Speckin, a handsome twenty-something with long red hair, joked as he patted the bulge in his father's crotch eliciting an exaggerated moan. The elder Speckin, a broad tall man in his fifties with neatly styled, but still fiery red hair, laughed as he patted his son on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, Max, neither one of you will be making any more Speckins after this," Cody Gordon said winking at them.

Forty-two-year-old Cody and his teenage son looked remarkably alike. They were both quite handsome with strong, square jaws, piercing blue-green eyes, and jet black hair. Both Cody and his son Bryce were just under six feet tall and were bulging with muscle in their yellow polos and khaki shorts. Impressively, both of them were sporting enormous bulges in their crotches which the other dad-son pairs eyed wickedly.

Everyone roared with incongruent laughter considering what was at stake this afternoon. There was a fair amount of taunting and bravado as the group was directed to the site of the first activity aptly called the 'Ball-Legged Race'.

"Okay, not wasting any time here, for the first event we need everyone to strip out of your shorts!" Mr. Garza instructed.

Cody and Bryce were the first to practically rip off their shorts, revealing their thick, toned legs and the massive, low hanging nutsack covered in black hair.

Dominik and his son Max weren't far behind to show off their toned legs and neatly trimmed large balls that were pulled tight against their bodies. 

Meanwhile, Seth and Lance Jackson has peeled out of their shorts and approached the starting line of the race. Seth was in his forties with an average 'dad-bod' build and a mop wild, unkempt blonde hair on his head. In contrast, his teenage son Lance was in peak fitness with a taught core that rippled under his form-fitting blue polo and a pair of hefty nuts swinging between his legs.

Further down the line Cooper Parker and his dad Mario had undressed and were having their legs tied together at the ankle by one of Garza's assistants. Mario was a towering, well-built man with a stern, yet youthful face and bulging biceps that seemed almost disproportionate to even his own toned frame. Even though he was the oldest dad in the group, his youthful appearance and build made him look much younger than his fifty-eight years. His thirty-year-old son was a spitting image of his old man only with sandy blonde hair but had the same powerfully built arms, boyish good looks, and nice-sized nuts pulled tightly against his trimmed crotch.

The last pair to finish getting set up for the race was forty-nine year old  Kyle Meade and his twenty-something son Donald. Other than their matching pink polos, Kyle and Donald looked the least alike out of any of the other pairs. Kyle was short with an average build, thinning greyish-brown hair, and a slight belly pushing out his too-tight shirt. His large fury nuts were pulled tightly against his body under his fat, flaccid cock. His son, on the other hand, was quite tall with a thick head of brown hair and intricate tattoos wrapped around his strong arms that disappeared into his sleeves. Hanging between his legs a trimmed bag nearly twice as big as his father's fat plums and hanging several inches, swinging as he swayed at the starting line.

All five father-son pairs were now pantsless, standing shoulder to shoulder with each father's right leg tied to his son's left leg at the ankle and around the thigh, keeping them tightly together. Other than the lack of pants, the whole thing looked like a traditional three-legged race... until the assistants doubled back with more lengths of twine and started tying additional knots. There were snickers from the father and son teams as the young assistants tied sturdy twine around the base of each father's sack and then tied the opposite end to his son's free leg. A similar know was tied around each son's sack terminating at his dad's free leg. The setup made it impossible for a father to move his free leg without tugging on his son's balls and visa versa and the twine was cut so short that there as virtually no slack; even the slightest extension of a leg would cause a sharp tugging on the receiving end. Even trying to move their tied leg in unison resulting in uncomfortable tugging as their crotches moved forward.

Making matters more urgent, the twine was rather sharp and the knots would tighten the harder they were pulled, forming an ever-tightening noose around all ten sacks.

"Oh, and no hopping," 

Garza reminded them since a pair hopping in unison on all four legs would keep the relative tightness of their twine leases unchanged. And where would the fun in that be...

"On your marks. Get set..."

Dominik and Max eyed the finish line with determination, they were confident that their spuds were strong enough to just rip full speed toward the goal regardless of how tight the rope became. 

"...Go!"

Moans and squeals instantly filled the air after barley a yard had been covered. Determined to win, Donald was lunging forward tugging his dad's balls along for the ride. Unfortunately, Kyle Meade's nuts, which were normally nestled against his body, didn't swing like his son's and had no slack to aide the pain of being tugged.

Meanwhile, Cody and Bryce were taking advantage of the fact that their pendulous, heavy nuts could stretch quite far before any kind of tugging, let alone pain, was encountered which allowed them to quickly get into a speedy rhythm.  Teenage Lance and his dad Seth had the same advantage and soon the Gordans and the Jacksons were breaking away from the pack. Behind them, Mario and his son Cooper were struggling to find a rhythm that didn't nearly castrate themselves.

Both Mario and Cooper Parker had large - but not particularly low hanging - nuts which refused to stretch even in the slightest and Mario's longer stride meant he was constantly eliciting squeals from his son as his tender nuggets were mercilessly tugged by his father's toned legs. Likewise, whenever Cooper would try to move, he'd cause his father's spuds to be yanked violently forward.

Trailing everyone was Dominik and his son Max. Of all ten sacks, there's were the least pliable, and even slight tugging caused a disproportionate amount of pain. They attempted to just try sucking up the pain and were actually starting to make up ground, but the constant tug had tightened the loop around the elder Speckin's sack so tightly that they were turning dark red and were pulling painfully away from this body.

"Fuck!" Dominik yelled as he and his son awkwardly made their way down the field. 

Garza and his assistance watched as the ten men lumbered down the field, the Gordons and the Jacksons in the lead, Dominik and his son Max woefully behind and Mario and his middle-aged son Cooper coming up from the rear. The best spectacle, however, was Kyle and Donald. Kyle screamed and tried to keep in rhythm with his taller, twenty-year-old son whose tattooed body was moving quickly down the field. Unlike his father, Donald's sack stretched like putty and he seemed barely phased by the tightening loop around his sack which was causing his stretched out balls to balloon and turn a nasty shade of crimson. He was determined to win and at the moment wasn't particularly concerned about this dad's sex life. After all, he thought, he liked being an only child. 

Kyle tried not to scream as his nuts were being yanked and tugged by his son's powerful leg but soon he had found a technique that spared him the worst of the tugging and even stopped the loop from tightening forward. Much to Lance's dismay Kyle and Donald soon passed them up and now it was a battle for first place between the Gordons and the Meades.

All ten fat sacks were being tugged in rhythm to the steps, and a few had been tugged so much that the loops had tightened into death nooses. Max was starting to lose feeling in his purple sack and Mario's dad-nuts were turning deep red, but still, all ten of them persisted until...

"We have a winner!"

Garza announced and walked over to give Kyle and Donald a high five.  They had barely beaten Cody and Bryce across the finish line and Donald pumped his muscular tattooed arm in the air in victory. It wasn't without collateral damage, unfortunately, as his father's nuts were bulging and turning purplish-black; the loop had tightened virtually shut during the race and now the tissues connecting his father's sack to his body were compressed to a diameter of a pencil. His fruits were literally starving on the vine...

The assistants quickly worked to untie the knots around the two teams that had crossed the finish line and not a moment too soon for Donald's dad. Kyle's nuts had gone numb which was quickly replaced with a burning, stinging sensation as blood rushed back into his sack. Cody and Bryce gave each other high fives while cupping their sacks like trophies; the big, low hanging nards had barely been scathed.

Crossing the finish line next was Seth and his son Lance followed by Cooper and his dad Mario. The last team to finish was Dominik, who was practically using his strong leg to drag his son Max across the finish line. Max's tight ballbag had been clamped completely off, with virtually no circulation reaching his swollen, dark-red organs. They had gone numb during the race and he thought he had felt - and heard - something tear in his bag and was alarmed when they still felt cold and numb even after the knot was removed.

One of the white-clad assistants updated the scoreboard. Since it was a team activity, each father and son received the same number of points. The Meades got five points, followed by four points for second place going to the Gordons, three points for the Jacksons, two points for Cooper and Mario, and last one point each for Dominik and his ginger son Max. 

After all of the ropes had been undone and the group made their way back toward the picnic area, Garza announced the results.

"Coming in the last place is Dominik and Max, step right up."

Dominik and Max hung their heads in shame as they approached the podium. All of the players were still pantsless so everyone could clearly see their four swollen, rosy-colored balls.

"And the team that's going to get a chance to extinguish these fire crotches is Kyle and his son Donald with their come-from-behind upset win!"

There were cheers as Kyle and Donald stood in front of the losing team, Donald making sure to sway in place so that his heavy, swinging nuts bounced between his legs.

"You all remember the rules, it's no-holds-bar time for Dominik and Max's nuts. The pounding doesn't stop until someone loses a nut... or until this timer goes off."

Garza held up a stopwatch and pressed the button. The display was too small for the audience to read adding to the tension; would the Meade's have ten seconds to try and snuff out the Speckin's or would they have ten minutes? No one knew and it was obvious Kyle and Donald were not going to waste any time.

Donald took his place in front of the elder Speckin and Kyle stood in front of Max. The assistants had secured the loser's arms behind their backs and they were now totally vulnerable to the Meade's mercy. Not like much would be forthcoming.

"I'm gonna' enjoy crushing your boy's nuts, Dominik," Kyle hissed as he reached down and cupped Dominik's son's balls in his hands and began to squeeze.

"Max!" Dominik barely had time to shout before a devastating knee slammed into his own swollen spuds.

Donald was slamming his rock-hard knee into Dominik's dad-berries like a piston, feeling them crush into Dominik's pelvis and flatten under his knee with each blow. The pain was causing Domikin's eyes to cross as a low drone left the 'O' his lips had made, but his gaze wasn't fixated on his attacker - or his attacker's bouncing nutsack - but on his son's testicles which were being mauled by Mr. Meade.

Although Kyle wasn't overly muscular, his grip had quite a bit of strength to it and Dominik watched in horror as his son's testicles were compressed into less and less space...

CRUUUUNCH

The younger Meade was enjoying crushing Dominik's balls under his knee and could feel their consistency slowly changing with each devastating blow. An assistant stood behind Dominik holding him upright since his knees were starting to buckle from the assault.  Donald's modest cock was rock hard as he continued to lay waste to Dominik's testicles. Meanwhile, Kyle had switched up from squeezing Max's young sack to alternating between knees and punching, slamming the young man's balls until they were as fiery red as his hair. But the blows kept coming. 

Garza looked up from his watch after what felt like an eternity for the Speckins, but the timer hadn't gone off yet.

"Oooh!" 

Max screamed in a high pitch as Mr. Meade placed his thumbs on top of his left nut and pressed in hard...

Dominik screamed as he watched his son's spuds flatten like pancakes under Kyle's thumbs. Donald was still slamming his knee into Dominik's screaming man-pods and the elder Speckin was sure permanent damage was being done.

"No! Please!"

Max wailed as Kyle came back from the goodie table holding a short length of metal pipe which he promptly slammed into Max's balls. Max's fat nuts were instantly smashed into his pelvis.

SPLOTCH

Max let out a guttural scream as he felt his right nut crack. There was a whoop of delight from the watching crowd which only fueled Kyle to continue annihilating Max's sack with the pipe.

"Time!' Garza shouted just a few blows too late for Max.

Max slumped to the ground, out cold, as Garza and one of his adorable assistants assessed the damage. After a few moments, he turned to the crowd and declared.

"We've lost one!"

Everyone cheered, including Dominik whose face took on a sick smile.

"Your team is disqualified, guess that means you're next!"  

Donald placed a hand on Dominik's strong chest and motioned for him to kneel. As soon as Dominik was on his knees, legs spread, the handsome daddy looked up at the hot young man who was only slightly younger than his own son.  Donald couldn't help but admire the smoking hot DILF at his feet and his cock throbbed just inches from Mr. Speckin's face.

WHOOOSH! CRUNCH!

Donald sent his toned, strong leg smashing full force into Domink's swollen eggs over and over, nearly lifting him off the ground with some blows. As he watched the hot, muscle daddy getting destroyed under him Donald started stroking his cock, his pace quickening the softer Dominik's eggs got.

"Oh yeah, daddy. They're gonna... they're gonna... "

Dominik's eyes crossed and he let out a squeal as he felt one of his nuts burst in his dad-bag. The look on Dominik's face and the slightly 'off' feeling of the terminal kick signaled to Donald that the deed was done. He kept stroking his cock so hard that it felt like he was going to rip it off...

Dominik's face was plastered as thick ropes of Donald's cum festooning it. Donald was too distracted by the orgasm that wracked his body to keep up with kicking and Dominik was finally allowed to collapse into a heap. 

"It's only round one and we've already lost a team!" 

Garza declared as he and the remaining teams made their way to the next activity. Behind them, four of the white-clad assistants helped escort Dominik and Max, their manhood shattered, away from the stage.

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After one event, Donald and Kyle Meade are tied in the lead with 5 points each. Max and Dominik are eliminated having both suffered one rupture each. Eight sacks and four teams remain...