Coach Clayton

Hey Guys!: This story contains explicit depictions of a consensual encounter turning more brutal than the bustee wanted which can be uncomfortable for some. Reader discretion advised.

Alex Devereux and Coach Clayton had a uniquely intense relationship. Alex was the star and captain of the Amajor University soccer team and had handedly lead them to a championship every year since he walked onto the squad as a freshman. Even right out of highschool, Alex's skill yet humility demanded respect from Clayton, the rest of the team and even his competitors. He was good looking and popular, his grades were stellar and he was the president of the Kappa Sigma fraternity, a boisterous fraternity with a history of scandal that he almost singlehandedly turned into one of the most prestigious houses on campus. Alex was a driven young man, a nearly flawless student and athlete whose put-together façade covered a twisted secret.

Alex had a pathological need to be the absolute best in whatever he did on and off the field and failure didn't just illicit embarrassment or shame, but an actual physical longing for punishment. It started in highschool; if he blew a game he would punish himself by heading to the local gym and letting himself be used as a punching bag for the local boxers, pretending that he was completely incompetent as older and bigger opponents wailed on him. If he did poorly on an exam he'd carve the word 'failure' into his muscular thighs with a pen; hidden from view but a visceral reminder of his failure. By the time he was a student at Amajor University, he had taken to punching himself in the stomach or resting his big, heavy balls under a toilet seat in the dorms and letting the lid drop, biting his fist to avoid crying out as he took his punishment. Alex wasn't trying to permanently harm himself, he just needed to equate failure as pain to incentivize himself from experiencing it again. And that's where Coach Clayton came in.

It started innocently Alex's freshman year after an embarrassing defeat to archrival Quintero University. In fairness, the entire Amajor team had performed poorly but Alex - as team captain - felt like he was ultimately the one to blame. Alex had pulled a groin muscle during the game so was using the post game locker room time to sooth his muscles under a hot shower. He turned the knob all the way to maximum, purposefully letting the nearly-scalding water turn his muscular body a fiery shade of red, punishment for his perceived failure. He stayed alone with his thoughts under the water until the rest of the team had gone home, losing track of how long the water had been running. The tap was finally starting to run cold when he turned off the water and turned to see Coach Clayton watching him in bewilderment.

Coach Clayton was a towering figure, six foot eight of beefy muscle and a deceptively young looking face. The forty-something coach as a consummate professional and despite being surrounded by hot young athletes all day, never gave into the temptation of hitting on one lest a lifetime of achievement be swept away by the #MeToo movement. And he'd certainly never try to hookup with a straight player like Alex.

At first Alex thought Clayton was eyeing him sexually and coyly covered his pendulous nuts and heavy, limp cock with his hands but Clayton's expression was more questioning than seductive. Clayton talked Alex into letting him give an above-board massage to help him with the slight limp he'd developed after the game and it was during that massage it happened. Clayton's big hands had inadvertently brushed against Alex's crotch quite hard. The coach's handsome face turned beet red and he was hoping that Alex wouldn't say anything but the hit had been hard. The svelte athlete let out a slight yelp but - to Clayton's surprise - just opened his legs wider. Clayton continued with the massage until Alex grabbed his hand and guided it to his massive nuts.

"Do it again, I deserve it, coach!"

Alex snarled barely above a whisper but it seemed to echo loudly in the empty locker room. Clayton's eyes grew huge. He had read a few ball busting stories and followed a few CBT content producers on Twitter but had never done anything in real life; he wouldn't even know where to start. Yet here was this young, straight jock with his legs spread on a massage table literally begging for it. Clayton started to stammer out a response but Alex stopped him.

"Coach, I messed up today. You know it, I know it. I need to be punished,"

Alex thought back to the guys at the gym who gladly used him as a punching bag and couldn't help but imagine his giant coach filling that role. He never attached any sexual meaning to it and his young mind was racing, afraid Clayton would kick him off the team or report him to the administration for his flagrant teasing but to both of their surprise, Clayton took the bait.

Alex nearly bit his fist until it was bleeding after Clayton unexpectedly slammed his fist into Alex's junk, smashing his nuts into the table. Alex's eyes rolled into the back of his head as a hesitant yet excited Clayton pounded his nuts again. And again. Each blow called up a memory of a missed shot, bad call or other slip up during the game. I deserve this, Alex thought, biting his fist as Clayton's barrage of punches became harder and faster. Meanwhile, Clayton, aware of his relatively massive stature, bit his lip and willed himself not to go too hard on Alex's nuts. It was like he was living out a scene from one of his favorite Shotgun videos and Alex's wide-spread legs barely budged. After a few minutes, Alex crying and biting his hand, motioned weakly for Clayton to stop. The burly coach backed away with his hands up, his thick cock raging in his shorts, as Alex grabbed his nuts and rolled over - he had taken enough punishment for the game. 

Clayton walked away, not even bothering to change, driving home knowing that in the morning he was going to get an email form the University President firing him on the spot after Alex told his story. No such email ever came. After the next game, Alex again subjected himself to a flurry of punches from his coach. Only this time the team's bad game was actually Alex's fault so Clayton felt slightly less guilty each time he felt Alex's jumbo-egg sized nuts flatten under his fist. Wow, that is a really big sack, Clayton thought, barely containing a smile, as he laid waste to the young man's nuts. Alex held out as long as he could before screaming out and covering himself. He was crying as he asked Clayton if he had taken enough punishment and it was all Clayton could do to say 'Yes' even though he wanted to keep going at Alex's swollen, red sack. And so it began.

In very matter of fact terms, Alex explained his need to be dominated and punished for failures and Clayton took note. Boundaries were established such as no permanent damage, no marks and nothing sexual. Not pictures or video, nothing on social media and Clayton always had to be mindful of Alex’s safe word; After all Alex was the one with the elaborate scoring system in his head that dictated how much or how little punishment he got. By sophomore year Alex gladly submitted to being punished by Clayton for failures off the field as well. For example, after Alex’s mean-spirited breakup with his first college girlfriend, Clayton forced Alex to walk laps in the locker room wearing a ball stretcher with a kettlebell hanging from it. Alex’s young nuts were strong but the weight was pulling the massive orbs toward the bottom of his sack, making the skin glisten and Alex squeal with each step. After bombing a chemistry midterm in junior year, Clayton used a plexiglass ball crusher he’d purchased just for Alex to squash the jock’s nuts as flat as the crusher would go. His huge nuts were compressed to less than half an inch and while Alex’s muscles flexed and glistened in agony, Clayton couldn’t help but lament he had gotten a crusher with a built in safety. He kept turning the screws, knowing that the machine couldn’t get any flatter, hoping that some malfunction would cause the plates to slam together. 

Alex, for his part, actually enjoyed having an older male figure he could confide in and get the benefit of having his submissive side satiated without fear Coach Clayton would try to take it any further. His tight jock hole was safe but his nuts were another story. Meanwhile, Clayton found himself more and more turned by increasingly violent, depraved stories, videos and Reddit forms about ball busting. Just seeing Alex’s huge mounds made Clayton’s cock twitch. Clayton knew ball busting stories and scenes from movies were hyperbole and special effects but considering he was no longer restraining himself by Alex’s third year, he was honestly surprised he hadn’t sent the randy young man to the hospital by now. Not that he wanted to per se, but a straight young sack could only take so much abuse before it burst, he thought. He’d always walk away from their sessions with a rock hard cock and dreams of doing even more abuse, mildly annoyed by the almost disgusted reaction Alex would have afterwards when he saw Clayton’s raging ten inches tenting in his pants. Alex was many things, Clayton concluded, and tease was one of them. 

By senior year, Alex’s nuts had become so tough he no longer needed to bite his fist to avoid calling out. He would just inhale deeply and growl after a particularly violent punch, literally demanding Clayton dish out more until he felt he’d taken his punishment. Clayton was more than happy to oblige. He ran through multiple punishments, punching, kicking, stomping, ball weights and crushes, each time taking the punishment just a bit further and being delighted to realize Alex was already there. The young man’s testicles were probably wrapped in a thin layer of scar tissue already, making them apparently stronger, though that hardly seemed to dampen his sex life.

Alex had a reputation of bedding girls left and right and openly flirted with the gay players on the team, craving attention and validation more than an actual roll in the sack. If he ever felt like a flirting teammate was getting too serious, Alex would just flash a heart-melting smile, politely decline the offer and give the guy a genuine hug - secretly hoping the rejected jock would raise his knee and slam it into his teasing crotch to punish him for leading him on but none ever did. Indeed, Alex Devereux was the definition of Big Man On Campus.

Although Alex had always been athletic, four years on an elite college soccer team had honed him into a devastatingly handsome stud. His meticulous diet and exercise had molded him into a five foot nine Adonis with virtually no body fat. He wasn’t bulging with muscle like Coach Clayton, but Alex’s six pack would flex rock hard just from a sneeze. He was gorgeous and that wasn’t even including his low hanging sack or eight inch flaccid penis that swung between his toned legs. Countless sessions with Clayton had turned his nuts into indestructible, tough spuds to the point he routinely played without a cup, soaking in any errant hits to his junk as punishment for not playing well. All the while, Clayton had watched Alex mature into a handsome twenty-two year old senior with an enormous set that made him think: That is a REALLY big package he’s letting me play with!

All of that leads to tonight. Amajor University’s years’ long winning streak had come to a shocking end. And it wasn’t to Quintero or some other highly-ranked school. It was during a friendly match with the local community college. The game had been for charity with no real stakes, but the loss stung the team and Alex was feeling it especially bad. The rest of the dejected players had long since left the locker room, headed to get shitfaced at a college bar and pick up one-night-stands to erase the stink of defeat, but Alex sat in the locker room pouting. His girlfriend and teammates had called multiple times to convince him to come out, but Alex didn’t hear his phone from the locker over the pounding silence of his own thoughts. He had really let the team down and needed to be punished. Really, really punished. There were only a few more games left in his entire collegiate career and he shuddered to think that he’d reached his peak. Man, I need to punished so bad for that fuck up, he thought.

That’s when Clayton walked in. The game had ended hours ago but Clayton was sure he’d find Alex on a bench outside the showers. The muscular, tall couch stood over Alex, who was only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist, and tapped his foot. He was wearing an Amajor T-shirt and baggy shorts though Alex was sure he detected the telltale sign of a bulge growing.

“What the hell was that, Devereux?” Clayton barked, his deep voice rocketing through the empty locker room. Per usual, Coach Clayton had locked the door, though it was unlikely anyone would randomly walk in so late and the juxtaposition between the brightly lit, usually bustling locker room and the current sense of isolation made the whole scenario even hotter. 

Alex was a tough little fucker, but Clayton knew that if it came down to it he could easily overpower and absolutely destroy his star player. It was a dark rabbit hole of a thought that had made Clayton spill countless loads over the years as he thought through scenarios in his head. Even now the thought alone made his cock jerk so violently in his shorts Alex raised an eyebrow before looking back to the ground in defeat.

Coach Clayton took another step toward Clayton, so close that his crotch was now just inches from Alex’s face. He gently kicked at Alex’s ankles which caused the submissive stud to spread his legs wider as Clayton looked down at the thin towel covering Alex’s ample nuts and his hands reflexively tightened into fists. He then flew into a fiery tirade denigrating Alex’s poor performance, making fun of his ‘over hyped’ skills and basically knocking the otherwise cocky soccer player down several pegs with biting words. Although the criticisms were functionally true, the cruel delivery was exactly what Clayton craved. He tried to maintain eye contact with his coach but found himself staring at the ground mostly as Clayton’s booming voice ricocheted around him. I deserve this, obviously, Alex thought as his coach’s literal beer-can sized cock tented his shorts, pulsing up and down nearly hitting Alex in the nose. Clayton usually got excited degrading Alex but this reaction seemed especially pronounce, especially since the coach hadn’t even started busting Alex’s balls.

Clayton knew Alex was close to graduating and soon their regular sessions would come to an end. He had hinted at Alex stop over to his condo for extra attention but Alex seemed content to be dressed down in the locker room, take his punishment and go back out into the world refreshed and humbled. It seemed unlikely Alex would have any interest in meeting up with the coach after he’d graduated off the team and out of the locker room.

For Alex it was a perfect arrangement; he got to have his darkest, most socially unacceptable urges satiated without the added drama of being in any kind of relationship with Coach Clayton. Clayton, for his part, seemed to enjoy it too judging by the wet precum stains that ended up on his shorts after a session. On a few occasions, the coach even blasted hands-free loads as he mangled the young player’s nuts in his hands. Alex had cum a few times as well, involuntarily, which was met with even more ferocious ball beating to completely ruin his orgasm. Despite the copious amounts of jizz and precum the two had unleashed over the years, their little sessions - at least from Alex’s perspective - weren’t overtly sexual. If Coach Clayton had been able to humiliate and degrade Alex by punching him in the arm, for example, with the same effect as threatening his manhood that probably would have been enough for Alex. 

But it had never been enough for Clayton, not really. He respected that his straight punching bag didn’t want his cock rammed down his throat but the closer graduation came, the more the coach wanted to take Alex to the next level - begging and screaming if needed.

“Stand up!” Coach Clayton roared.

Before Alex could even respond, Clayton grabbed him by the hair and wrenched him to his feet like a rag doll. Alex’s towel fell to his feet with a swoosh revealing his pendulous nuts and cock shriveled up from the verbal abuse he had suffered so far. Despite Alex’s fit body, the submissive naked jock looked absolutely meek compared to the clothed, burly coach. Alex looked his coach in the eyes pleadingly before crossing them and letting out a short yelp; the coach had slammed his big knee upward into Alex’s crotch, smashing the soccer stud’s heavy orbs into his pelvis. Alex’s eyes bugged out as Clayton slammed his knee into his crotch again and again, hitting them at a perfect well-practiced angle to ensure the low hanging fruit were violently slammed against his knee cap and Alex’s body. The tough orbs couldn’t escape so virtually all of the energy of the kick went into deforming them as they were pancaked between the two unyielding surfaces. Alex fought back tears but kept his arms dutifully behind his back even after a dozen blows. Coach Clayton was nearly double Alex’s weight and he was using ever ounce of extra mass to his advantage.

Clayton took a step back as his star player stood with his lip quivering, his nuts looked entirely untouched which only made them more of a target.

“You were terrible today...” Clayton started in on berating Alex as he clasped Alex’s beefy right nut in with both hands and began to squeeze.

Alex gasped as Clayton’s bear-like palms squeezed together, determined to destroy the fat ball trapped between them. As he squeezed, Clayton leaned in an whispered degrading slurs into Alex’s ear.

“You know you deserve this, don’t you, you dumb-as-rocks jock,”

Alex nodded yes as he let out a scream. Clayton’s palms had sandwiched his nut to less than half its normal girth and the strong coach wasn’t slowing down. The coach had gone hard on Alex’s balls before but never quite so quickly.

“... I should just pop this thing right now, shouldn’t I? Not like any woman would wanna’ have kids with you you pathetic piece of shit. Star player my ass,”

Alex felt Clayton’s hot breath against his ear as the coach continued to knead his ball like dough.

“Yes sir, coach!” Alex replied through gritted teeth. 

Clayton’s cock twitched; he didn’t know which he enjoyed more the actual act of squeezing Alex’s nut or watching the hunky idiot turn into a subservienty sex object. He smiled as he released Alex’s nut. They had both lost track of how long Clayton had been squeezing full force but the effect on half of Alex’s manhood was visible.

Alex was about to clutch his junk before stopping and asking permission from Clayton.

“May I, coach?”

Clayton nodded yes as Alex cupped his huge nuts in his hands. His right nugget had turned noticeably red under the constant squeezing and felt like it was even hanging a bit lower than the left.

CRUNCH

Alex’s eyes went wide as Clayton’s knee slammed into his cupped hands, sandwiching both nuts between his knee cap, Alex’s own hands and his pelvis. Alex yelped in genuine surprise before collapsing to his knees. Uh oh, he thought.

It was a well-established rule that Alex needed permission before nursing his wounds or taking a break and falling to his knees covering Clayton’s stress balls without permission was quite the faux pas.

“I’m worthless sir... Aaah!” Alex screamed as Clayton’s sneaker-clad foot slammed between his slightly spread legs. 

CRUNCH

Clayton roared as he kicked Alex between the legs with reckless abandon, taking delight as Alex begged him for a break.

“Please sir! Please!”

Despite years of practice, after a few minutes of having his seedpods violently smashed between Clayton’s shoe and his body, the desperate stud collapsed onto his back, his head bouncing as it hit the tile floor. 

Clayton was tempted to stomp straight down on Alex’s vulnerable bag, but stopped to give the stud a break, clutching his nuts and rocking from side to side.

“Thank you, coach! I deserve that!”

Clayton’s coach twitched. Every muscle in Alex’s tight body was tensed up, making him look like a life-sized action figure begging to have cum splashed all over him. The coach nearly pulled out his cock and stroked off all over Alex but was too distracted by the increasingly dark thoughts he was having about his favorite athlete. Alex had recovered from the kicking and squeezing and his hands were now at his side as he looked up at his coach.

“Please coach, punish me more,”

“How much did you fuck up today? How much should I punish you?” 

Alex seemed to give the question serious thought; “Really bad, sir. I’m a screw up, a cocky pussy-chasing asshole with a fucking terrible ego...”

To Clayton’s surprise Alex got to his knees as his feet, Clayton’s tenting shorts were literally touching Alex’s nose. Alex looked up at his burly coach with his eyes nearly begging.

“Coach, I deserve to be knocked down a peg,” 

Alex cross his arms behind his back, letting his slightly swollen nuts dangle freely between his muscular thighs. Despite his coach’s cock touching his face separated only by the thin fabric of the shorts, Alex’s cock was starting to stir. He absolutely loved being owned by his macho, queer coach.

“You want me to knock you down a peg, uh?”

Alex spread his legs. Clayton couldn’t help but lust after Alex’s truly massive, swollen, red testicles swinging down, their color contrasting the white tile floor nicely. 

“You don’t deserve my attention, Alex,”

CRUNCH

Clayton kicked forward, the bottom of his shoe connecting with Alex’s left nut. The aim was sloppy but the kick had so much force it didn’t matter; Alex’s jock nut was still compressed dangerously flat by the over-powered kick. Alex tumbled onto his back and his head hit the edge of the bench as he fell. He moaned as his body was spread eagle, his heavy nuts resting several inches from his crotch on the hard tile. Well he WAS begging for it, Clayton thought to himself - as if he needed encouragement.

STOMP

Alex gritted his teeth and clasped his hands together over his chest in a disciplined effort to avoid crying out. Clayton’s sneaker stomped down full force on his testicles, flattening them into the ground. The coach repeated the cliché yet effective ball busting technique thrice more before starting in on a more viscous variation. After starting with the fourth stomp, Clayton twisted his foot each time he stomped down, grinding Alex’s nuts into the ground and increasing the agony of each impact. The massive things warped and flattened filling Clayton with delight and Alex with twisted satisfaction until Clayton suddenly found himself jumping up between stomps. The extra force of nearly three hundred pounds of muscle landing with force from a jump was an intense escalation from mere stomping and Alex wasn’t prepared. He screamed and begged Clayton for a break but the muscular coach just kept jump on his swelling nuts and grinding.

“Coach please...”

“Please what?” 

CRUNCH

“I’m sorry, coach! I’m sorry for being a fuck up!” 

CRUNCH

Alex screamed and his hands raced to his crotch, clutching his swollen nuts and gasping, his taught body glistening and straining in pain. Clayton however, was having none of it. This might be our last session after all, he thought, and Alex really needs to feel what a fuck up he is. Clayton swooped down and grabbed Alex by the hair, standing him up just enough to toss him onto the bench. Alex yelped as he sat on his own low hanging balls, squashing them nearly flat. Before he could adjust himself Clayton grabbed Alex by the shoulders and pushed the stud’s body into the bench, forcing him to pulverize his nuts with his own toned ass. Alex wailed.

Clayton continued punching, squeezing and kicking Alex’s nuts in various ways, not holding back and pretending not to hear Alex’s increasingly urgent calls to take a break. For his part, the more deranged Clayton became the less of an alpha stud Alex felt and the further down the rabbit hole he wanted to go. Their sessions had never been gentle but the coach seemed to have unleashed a beast he’d been hiding all this time and Alex was loving it.

CRUNCH

Clayton’s shoe slammed down especially hard, compressing Alex’s nuts into the bench. Coach Clayton - and Alex - swore they felt something give slightly inside the young player’s bag. Alex’s eyes rolled back into his head and he screamed, his hoarse from nearly an hour of punishment. Coach Clayton stepped back to give his star player a well deserved rest. Alex gently clutched his balls and tumbled off the bench, landing in a muscular heap at his coach’s feet. The defeated athlete looked up at Clayton with a face streaked with tears and two massive, swollen nuts that were bright red with disturbing dark red streaks where blood vessels had ruptured.

“Coach... I’ve learned my lesson, coach. I won’t fuck up again.” Alex barely got out before curling into a fetal position.

Clayton’s face turned dark. “I’ve learned my lesson, coach” was Alex’s safe word, usually marking the end of a session. It was what the dumb jock’s brain had been conditioned to say when the actual damage to his boys was starting to surpass the twisted catharsis of being used as a human punching bag. As Clayton looked down at the dry-heaving, crying and naked Alex he was overcome with a thought that had been with him all night. This might actually be their last session together. The season was winding down after all so there wouldn’t be many more opportunities for Alex to be taught a lesson.

Clayton picked up the towel and threw it at Alex.

“Go clean yourself up, pathetic loser,” Clayton barked and headed back to his office.

The coach’s small office had a large window so that he could monitor the shenanigans going on in the locker room. However the only activity was Alex slowly getting dressed since the slightest touch made his balls feel like they were imploding. After a while Alex was back in his street clothes, a tight-fitting Amajor University T-shirt Alex got purposefully a size too small to hug his hot torso and show off his mounding pecs. He’d styled his hair with gel and to finish off the look he was wearing a pair of well-fitting jeans that hugged his body in all the right places, especially showing off his enormous bulge - made bigger by the coach’s brutal assault. Given that every step made Alex wince he was likely reconsidering the wisdom of wearing pants that were quite so tight, but it didn’t matter. He had finally responded to his friends and was on his way to meet them and his girlfriend at some off campus afterparty. Before closing his locker, Alex ran a hand through his well-sculpted hair and gave a shit face grin to himself in the mirror as if he was rehearsing for later. The stud’s rapidly-regained cockiness was the last straw for Clayton and he reached into his drawer for something he’d been keeping handy for such an occasion.

As Alex made his way past Clayton’s office the coach stood up and approached him. Alex gave a shy smile as his eyes darted to the floor. Coach Clayton licked his lips at the site of his awesomely handsome star. Alex cleaned up quite well and looked nearly as good in clothes as he did out of them. It was almost like he was taunting the coach with this especially form-fitting outfit.

“Where are you headed, Mr. Devereux?” Clayton barked as he stepped in front of Alex, blocking his path. Alex could tell Clayton was hiding something behind his back but thought nothing particularly suspicious about it.

Alex stammered out the answer and Clayton rolled his eyes in disgust.

“So let me get this straight? After today’s fuck up of a game, you think it’s a good idea to go out and get drunk with your loser friends? Is that really the best idea?”

Alex’s face turned bright red. He could feel shame welling inside as he mumbled out an especially pathetic reply. Coach Clayton was having none of it.

CRUNCH

CRUNCH

Alex’s eyes bugged out in genuine, horrified surprise and he let out a low, guttural scream as Coach Clayton slammed his knee into his mounding crotch. The sound was music to Clayton’s ears, though he preferred the tone to be a couple octaves higher. The tight fabric was keeping everything in place so his huge baby makers had no place to go except into his pelvis. Clayton had finally had enough of Alex’s bad decisions.

Alex tried to double over but the much larger - and surprisingly agile - coach grabbed him under his arms and effortlessly hoisted him upright. Alex was initially too dazed from the unexpected hit to fight back as Clayton dragged him to a bench, throwing him down on his back. 

“Coach?” 

Despite the turn of events, Alex was too submissive to get up, instead laying down on the bench as he looked up at Clayton in confusion. Only a few of their sessions had ever had an encore and none of them happened after Alex was already dressed and ready to go. Something was up...

“Coach Clayton! What the hell... Oooh!” Alex’s questioning was quickly stunted by Clayton’s fist slamming into Alex’s pretty face, blacking his right eye and sending him into a daze.

It was all the opening Clayton needed. He quickly secured Alex’s dangling arms with handcuffs so that they were trapped under the bench. Alex’s legs were next, with each ankle secured to a leg of the bench. Clayton finished just in time as the young jock was starting to recover and immediately tried to stand, only to find he was trapped on his back on the bench. He could only raise his torso as far as his handcuffed arms would allow, which wasn’t very high. But it was too high for Clayton’s comfort; after all, even tied down Alex was still dangerous fueled with panic and adrenaline. Clayton smiled as he left the struggling jock to hunt down more supplies. 

Alex could only struggle helplessly as he was tied down on his back on the table. As he struggled he realized that his mounding bulge was a huge target for his ball busting coach and the sudden realization that he was actually defenseless filled Alex with a sense of urgency he’d never displayed in his young life. The locker room was filled with Alex’s pleas for help and the sounds of the handcuffs rattling but the only person who could hear it was Clayton.

The coach returned a few minutes later with - of all things - jump ropes which he used to quickly crisscross Alex’s muscular chest and abs, securing them with unbreakable knots. Alex was now firmly tied in place. Clayton looked down at the helpless stud and his cock raged in his shorts as he went to fetch more supplies. The waiting felt like hours to Alex who was struggling mightily but was still firmly tied on his back to the bench, legs spread and totally vulnerable. 

Clayton returned carrying an armload of items Alex couldn’t make out before dropping them into a pile at his feet. After all, Clayton thought, there was no need to be especially tidy. The first order of business was stuffing a dirty jockstrap Clayton had stolen from an open locker into Alex’s mouth followed quickly by an overkill amount of athletic tape over his mouth to keep it in place. Alex’s muffled screams made Clayton’s cock literally squirt precum and his mind began to race with all of the ball busting fantasies he’d dreamed about.

The coach’s eyes were fixated on Alex’s bulging jeans and Alex pleaded with his eyes as he watched his coach ball his powerful fists before squatting slightly for a better angle.

CRUNCH

Alex’s eyes bulged as his coach unloaded full-force punches straight down onto his bulge with such force he might as well have been stomping. Alex could feel the coach’s knuckles digging into his balls with each blow and it was apparent that Clayton - for the first time in any of their sessions - wasn’t holding any of his powerful strength back. Clayton continued until Alex was sobbing and screaming into his gag, alternating fists as he slammed down so hard he could feel the jock’s pelvic bone. They both lost all track of time - Alex from horror and Clayton from being overwhelmed with lust - as Clayton tired his fists on Alex’s nuts. 

Clayton didn’t stop even as Alex started fading in and out of consciousness from the pain radiating from his crotch. Alex’s entire world was now the trembling bulge between his legs; none of his gym-hewn muscles, good looks or swagger meant anything.

“Mmmmmph!” 

Alex’s eyes went wide before his handsome face slumped to the side as Clayton unleashed a rapid fire volley of punches.

The coach stepped back to admire the site of Alex passed out on the bench but his massive bulge looked no worse for wear. Clayton was sweating heavily and his heart was pounding from the work out, a testament to how much energy he was laying into ensuring Alex never had any kids. Clayton rubbed his own fat cock through his shorts as he contemplated his next move.

STOMP! CRUNCH

Alex let out a weak, subconscious groan that hardly conveyed the damage Clayton was unleashing on his sack. Taking advantage of his relatively high position over the laying-down Alex, Clayton rose his leg and slammed the bottom of his cleats into Alex’s totally defenseless bulge. 

CRUNCH

Clayton kept it up, sweat literally soaking his shirt in effort, as he stomped on Alex’s crotch until he was panting heavily, his cock leaking and bouncing with each brutal stomp. Before giving Alex a moment of respite, Clayton mixed up his approaching, stomping Alex’s bulge at a slight upward angle, forcing his nuts to sandwich between the bottom of the coach’s shoe and Alex’s body resulting in a very different feeling for the coach. 

Alex barely stirred as Clayton stepped back and admired Alex’s passed out body. Part of him wanted to rip Alex’s jeans off so that he could see the damage he was inflicting, but another part of him had a more devious idea. The coach reached down and picked up one of the kettle bells he'd collected earlier.

A kettlebell weight 

He however the heavy round weight over Alex’s bulge for what seemed like a long time, his heart pounding with anticipation, before letting it drop.

CRUUUNCH

“Mmmmph!”

A sudden, alarming pain caused Alex to spring to life out of his semi blacked-out state. His eyes were open wide and he was struggling against his bounds with renewed effort. Unfortunately for Alex, Clayton was especially good at tying knots.

The coach picked up the kettlebell which had rolled to the floor and again held it as high as he couch over Alex.

“Ummmph!” 

Alex screamed into the dirty jock in his mouth as the weight landed on his rock hard abs. Clayton, annoyed at his messed up aim, picked up the weight and tried again. This time it hit right on target.

CRUNCH

The bulge in Alex’s jeans visibly flattened on impact before regaining some shape as the weight rolled off. Clayton wasted no time getting back into position. This time he stood on his tip toes to get as much height as possible and held the weight aloft as Alex pleaded with Clayton. The two locked eyes and for a moment Alex thought Clayton had a change of heart...

CRUUUNCH

Alex screamed as the weight landed full force on his nuts.

Clayton kept it up for nearly an hour before changing his strategy. He ran to his office and dragged out his chair so that he could stand on it to get even more height, but instead of simply letting the weight fall naturally, Clayton grasped it with both hands and lunged it at Alex’s crotch as if he was dribbling a basketball.

Alex’s head rocked violently from side to side and his face was taking on a deep shade of red and Clayton kept up this new, apparently more effective, method. 

CRUUUNCH CRUUNCH

Clayton watched in delight each time the weight flattened the swollen bulge in Alex’s jeans. Although the pain was beyond his jock brain’s ability to comprehend, the adrenaline rush was keeping Alex from passing out. Instead the veins on his neck were bulging as he screamed full throated into his gag. Something isn’t right, Clayton thought as he replayed the graphic end of some of his favorite ballbusting stories in his head.

Clayton dismounted the chair and set down the kettle bell. Alex let out a sigh of relief as the coach removed his gag and the tied-down stud gasped for air. The ordeal was over.

Clayton went toward Alex’s tied ankles as if he was preparing to free them; instead he was picking up the kettle bell.

“Please, coach! Don’t!”

CRUUUNCH

Clayton used the kettlebell like an evil mallet, wailing it into Alex’s crotch with deadly precision only this time he was rewarded with Alex’s deep, frantic, throaty, un-muffled screams. Alex serenaded the locker room with an ode to his destroyed manhood and the sound combined with the feeling of Alex’s bulge flattening under each blow was enough to nearly bring Clayton to orgasm. 

“P-p-please, please stop!” 

Clayton set the kettlebell down on Alex’s heaving chest to free his hands while he tore open Alex’s jeans and slid them down just enough to show off Alex’s ridiculously swollen, mounding white briefs. There were a few stains of blood where Alex’s bloated scrotum skin had broken during the assault but all things considered the two huge lumps looked otherwise fine. Clayton used his thick fingers to prod and poke at them individually, moaning in delight as his digits were able to effortlessly plunge into each ball like tough clay. Alex squealed as Clayton continued his macabre examination.

Despite Clayton’s best efforts, Alex’s nuts stayed nearly perfectly round and huge, plumping up after each violent poke. The two white lumps made achingly hot targets, Clayton thought. He picked up the kettlebell and began swinging it rapidly into Alex’s crotch. The trapped stud let out a final, desperate scream before blacking out. But Alex just kept swinging. He could tell from the changing feel of the impacts that Alex’s nuts didn’t have much more to go.

CRUU-SPLOTCH

Clayton doubled over, his hand still grasping the kettlebell weight, as his shorts were absolutely flooded with sperm, soaking his shorts and dripping down his leg. Alex’s swollen, puffy right nut had catastrophically burst inside his bag, completely flattening the bulge in his shorts. It took Clayton nearly five minutes to recovered from his shuttering orgasm. 

Clayton tossed aside the weight and rose a cleat, resting it on top of Alex’s still whole left nut. He pressed into it slowly, loving the feeling of the collapsing orb yielding under the pressure, toying with Alex’s last faint hope of fatherhood.

Clayton suddenly stopped his relatively gentle foot massage and stomped down on Alex’s bulging underwear. Over and over until he felt the massive thing explode with a muted splotch.

The coach kept stomping down on the increasingly mushy former mound until it was nearly flat. Everything in Alex’s young sack had been pulverized and Clayton could tell by the shapeless outline that the jock’s thick cock had also been mutilated beyond recognition in the assault.

Clayton continued mushing Alex’s junked junk under his foot until he had one more wicked idea. He picked up the kettle bell and hovered it over Alex with both hands, carefully preparing his aim. Alex’s heavy breathing seemed almost peaceful and for a moment Clayton was annoyed Alex wouldn’t be awake to enjoy the grand finale.

Mustering every bit of strength in his hulking body, Clayton send the weight crashing down landing with a wet explosion into the ruins of Alex’s crotch. Then again. And again. It was clearly overkill but any moment now...

SPLOOOOOSH

Alex’s body shuddered as his mushed sack erupted open and wet slugs of his former testicles splattered out, trapped in place by the fabric but still oozing out of the sides. A few more blows caused even more testicle slurry to be squirt out until a gooey trail was oozing down his jock thighs.

Finally satisfied with his handiwork, Clayton dropped the weight and stepped back. He casually picked up Alex’s phone, long sense dropped, and used the stud’s finger to unlock it. He sent out a quick mass text message to the ‘team’ group chat:

“Guys, come back to the locker room, ASAP! I’ve got a hot surprise!”

Before Clayton made his way out of the lockerroom he smiled as he saw a few of the players actually responding with drunken responses like “Sure, be right there!” and “What happened? Did Coach finally nail you?” He glanced back at the passed out, desexed soccer player at least comfortable in the knowledge that someone would be coming soon to rescue him.

Clayton tossed the phone onto Alex’s chest before leaving, causally walking to his car and driving away. The lights of the City faded in his rear view as he merged onto the nearly abandoned highway out of town, one hand on the steering wheel and the other in his shorts.