WARNING

These stories are entirely works of fantasy fiction. Please do not act anything on this blog out. Doing so would be extremely dangerous.

Friday, June 23, 2023

Ghost Network: Beast's Obsession

 


Graphic Violence: Reader discretion advised. This story is not for everyone. Please do not ignore this warning and then complain in the comments section.

A maniacal showman nicknamed The Ghost devises clever ways to brutally castrate helpless studs live on the web to the delight of his globe-spanning throng of fans.  All of his past adventures can be seen with the tag Series: The Ghost Network.

The Ghost's last show had been an explosive testicle-splattering celebration of the New Year but Ghost was planning something especially brutal for young Cole. Cole had been a fan of Ghost's shows until he got to experience one up close. Unfortunately for Cole, his friend Greg was particularly sadistic and volunteered Cole to be a participant on Ghost's next show... 

Ladies and gentlemen mark your calendars and click on the attached encrypted link at zero hundred hours Eastern Time for a live performance that will make you squirm and shoot!

- Eternally Yours, The Ghost

--

Cole was groggy as he slowly regained consciousness in the middle of a bright white room. Despite his pounding head, the muscled young blonde instantly realized what was happening and started fighting desperately against his bonds. He was tied naked in a chair with his arms tied behind his back, tight bonds around his torso and his legs tied to the chair’s leg, forcing them wide apart.  His heavy, fuzzy nuts were pulled away from his body with thick rubber rings, resting on the chair’s elongated seat. Despite his struggles, the twenty-five year old couldn’t break free.


He had seen sterile-looking white rooms like this enough to know where he was, which made his heart pound. Cole was alone, except for a single camera facing him and another camera facing the opposite wall. He had no idea what was in store for him...


Along one of the walls of the fairly large room were tables covered in computers and monitors with cryptic information plastered across them. Cole couldn’t believe he was watching the inner workings of The Ghost Network. 


Cole screamed out for help even though he knew he was essentially doomed. The only people in earshot of his begging were already in too deep to help him even if they wanted to.


Suddenly a door which blended into the wall perfectly, opened and several Ghost Network volunteers entered to set up the stage. Three chairs were bought in and bolted to the floor facing Cole and only a few feet away. As soon as the chairs were secured, three struggling men were dragged in violently and thrown into the chairs, screaming in hysterics as they were tied down with their arms behind their backs  and their fat nuts pulled away from their bodies with tight rubber rings. All three sets of nuts were pulled several inches from their bodies, so taught they were glistening.


As the stage volunteers left the room Cole was forced to sit in front of the three captive men in the same position they were; tied up, naked and afraid. Cole instantly recognized all three of them and thought he was going to throw up.


The first man was Daniel. Daniel and Cole were the same age, having graduated high school together. In the twelfth-grade, just before high school graduation, Cole had come out to Daniel in the gym locker room when they were alone. The young Cole was hoping the scene would turn into a low-class porno as his hot, straight friend stripped naked and the two fucked all night.


What happened instead was way more consequential.  Daniel, a quintessential conservative red-blooded alpha male smiled and gave his friend Cole a hug. The two talked for hours. Daniel didn’t pretend to be progressive enough to really understand what Cole was going through but he was too good of a friend to duck and run when things got awkward. Daniel didn’t realize it, but his show of understanding and lack of judgment had set his entire life on an overall positive trajectory and Cole and Daniel remained close friends. In fact, Cole had commented on a photo of Daniel holding up his second daughter in the hospital birthing unit just a few weeks ago on Facebook.


The next captive in front of Cole was Vincent, Cole’s first serious boyfriend in college. Cole hadn’t seen Vincent in years but had fond memories of the shaggy-haired ginger. Even though years had passed, Vincent still looked like he had in college. A tight, short muscular body covered in coarse red hair, especially the bush that nearly obscured his fat, plump nuts.  Vincent and Cole had broken up amicably and Cole used the relationship to grow and evolve as a person.


The last captive was Myles. Myles was in his early thirties with an average build and thinning blonde hair. Myles and Cole worked together at a local shelter for homeless gay youths. It had started as a court-mandated punishment for Myles after having been found guilty of spray-painting gay slurs on The Shard, a mega tall office building downtown and headquarters to CB & T, a famously gay-friendly corporation.


Myles was one-hundred percent straight, a real macho man, but the plight of the guys in the shelter pulled at his heart strings until he actually cared, not just putting on a façade. Myles kept volunteering at the shelter even after his probation and eventually became the head of the center. It was Myles' deep sense of empathy and self awareness that attracted Cole and the two had become best friends, though Myles was jokingly-jealous that his wife went to Cole instead of him for fashion and social advice.


Cole was horrified to see that three of the most influential men in his life had been swept up into the Ghost Network, a dark-web phenomenon that Cole himself had gladly watched until recently. 


After a few minutes, Ghost walked into the room wearing his trademark Guy Fawkes mask. He was followed by a second young blonde that made Cole scream out in terror. It was his best friend Greg! Greg was naked, letting his own modest nuts hang between his legs. The two had been on the outs ever since a cock-torturing session had gotten way too dark for Cole to handle, but Cole at least considered Greg to be a friend. Now, Greg’s cold expression made it look like the two were nothing but strangers.  


Greg was Cole’s age, mid twenties, and fit. He wouldn’t necessarily be a fashion model, but Greg was quite attractive. Cole couldn’t remember the exact sequence of events that made them both realize they enjoyed brutal ball busting fantasies and neither of them could recall how they had been invited to join The Ghost Network via an encrypted link. But they both loved it! Reading ball busting stories or watching Hollywood special effects about castration were hot, but seeing the real thing happening in Ghost’s studios was hotter than either of them could imagine. 


The more depraved Ghost got, the more ardent fans Cole and Greg became until one day Cole and Greg ended up acting out their hottest cock destruction fantasies in real life. It was heaven for Greg but torture for Cole. He’s never seen anyone actually die before, let alone have to bury them. Cole hadn’t watched another Ghost show since, even though Greg continued to devour the content. Greg, a true sadist, knew how upset Cole was by what had happened to the twins so thought he would take Cole's torture to a whole other level... It had only taken a few months for the Ghost’s network of volunteers and power brokers to arrange tonight’s events. 


Ghost and Greg, wearing a goblin mask, attached thick metal collars to Daniel, Myles and Vincent.  Cole instantly recognized them as exploding neck collars and screamed in terror. The other three captives screamed into their gags.


“Greg! Man, don’t do this! Please!” Cole pleaded but Greg and Ghost ignored him.


After the last exploding collar was installed, Ghost started the show with a series of commands on his computer. The cameras capturing the scene sprung to life. Cole was tied and helplessly forced to watch three of the men he admired most in a similar situation across from him. Cole knew the kinds of terrors in store for the six oversized sacks and shuddered.


“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to a very special show tonight!” Ghost started with a flourish.


“It seems like young Cole here is having second thoughts about being part of our Network, so we figured we’d see just how willing he is to stay out of the Ghost Network!” 


Ghost explained Cole and Greg’s story, how they had been all-in on the violent ball busting video streams until things had gotten too real for Cole. To test how strong Cole’s resolve truly was, Ghost had set up this little experiment. The exploding collars were an emergency measure in case anyone happened to escape, but the main event would be the ball busting made possible by the heavy, long handled sledge hammer in Greg’s hands. Ghost explained how each of the three captives was special to Cole in some way before interjecting a cruel joke.


“I bet Cole, with all his high-minded principles, has jerked off countless times thinking about these things being turned to mush!”


As horrifying as it was, Ghost wasn't wrong.


Ghost panned the camera over each of the three captive sacks. All three of them were huge, tied up and pulled far from their crotches, resting on the seats of their elongated chairs. Cole blushed in shame and embarrassment; he actually had gotten off countless times thinking about Myles, Vincent and Daniel having their big nuts splattered. But that was consequence-free fantasy. This was real!


“So, here’s how it’s going to work. Our volunteer Greg here is going to smash each of these sacks depending on Cole’s feedback. If Cole really doesn’t want one of his friend’s nuts to explode, he can have his own balls crushed instead!”


Ghost cackled. He knew his Network consisted of some sadistic fuckers, but he couldn’t believe someone’s best friend had actually volunteered them like Greg had done to Cole. 


Greg stood in front of Myles with the sledgehammer arched over his back. Greg’s cock was raging hard as he lined up his aim over Myles’ plump studs. The sledge hammer was already heavy and Greg was pumped up on adrenaline so he knew exactly what was going to happen if he slammed down.


Myles screamed into his gag, pleading with Cole to save him. Cole knew Myles really, really, really wanted kids. He had just been waiting for the right time to start a family with his wife. He was more horrified at the prospect of losing his future - kids, graduations, grand kids - than he was of loss of two organs. He was shaking and screaming.


“Greg! Don’t! Please!” Cole screamed.


Greg smirked under this mask.


“Oh, so you’d rather it be you’re own nuts?”


Greg turned and faced Cole, coldly placing the sledgehammer over Cole’s own bulging nuts. Cole loved his nuts, absolutely loved them. They were his favorite things to wash in the shower. The big, oval reminders that he was a real man despite a lifetime of less-than-subtle swipes that he wasn’t just because he loved men.  Cole’s nuts were important to him, but he couldn’t dream of sparing them if it meant destroying Myles. Without hesitation, Cole started shouting out.


“Yes! Crush my nuts, Ghost! Make ‘em splatter!” Cole pleaded.


“I want you to plaster my friends with my splattered nuts!” 


Even though he was tied tightly to the chair, Cole managed to thrust his hips forward slightly making his own huge nuts an even bigger target for Greg. Greg’s cock twitched. Greg couldn’t believe Cole was seriously going to sacrifice his own manhood for three other people. Greg completely lacked the capacity to assign such value to anyone, even his ‘best friend’ Cole. For Greg, Cole was just a hot guy who got into the same twisted fantasies, nothing more, nothing less. 


“Okay, countdown from ten! Whose nuts get crushed!” Ghost announced into the camera.


The dark web chat erupted with speculation. Half of the watching audience wanted Cole’s nuts to meet their maker and the other wanted Myles' manhood streak to end. 


“Please!” Cole screamed. 


Ghost counted down dramatically as Greg readied the sledgehammer. Despite pleading with Greg to crush his nuts instead, Greg had turned back to Myles, ready to strike. Cole desperately pleaded, begged, Greg not to do it.


“If you need an explosion, mine are primed for it! Look how fucking big they are!” 


Cole was desperate to take attention away from Myles. It wasn’t working. Greg had no intention of sparing any of the captives; he just wanted Cole to suffer and he knew destroying Myles, Vincent and Daniel would crush Cole; a hideous wound on his psyche the soft blonde would never be able to recover from. Just thinking about the decades of agony and nightmares awaiting Cole made Greg’s cock shoot a rope of precum. 


Cole was screaming so much he didn’t even notice Ghost’s countdown had ended.


BLOOOOOSH


Myles' handsome face contorted into horror and pain and he screamed into his gag as Greg bought the sledgehammer slamming into his balls. The middle aged sack burst open like a pinched zit, each testicle flying out of the sack nearly whole, but crushed and ruined beyond repair. Cole threw up.


He had imagined Myles’ nuts being destroyed in his head but actually seeing it was just too much. To make everything worse, Myles was bleeding heavily from his ruined scrotum and neither Ghost or Greg seemed to be responding.


“Help him! Help him please! Please!”


Cole remembered the indescribable horror of the twins bleeding out and became even more animated to escape. The bolts holding Cole’s chair to the floor started to creak and bend  as Cole begged Ghost to help Myles. 


“PLEASE!!” 


Ghost snapped his fingers and two volunteers clad in white swooped in, untied Myles and took him out of the room.  Cole remembered what had happened to the twins, who had escaped the white room but still managed to be snuffed out. He screamed out.


“Please help him! Let him go! Please!”


Ghost nodded “Don’t worry, Myles will be fine. I mean other than the fact his nuts are mush now!” 


Ghost and Greg laughed at the gooey pile left behind on Myle’s chair.


Next up was Vincent. The cowering young man had pissed all over himself but his fat nuts were still pulled far from this crotch, just waiting on the seat of the chair. Cole was mortified. He had loved Vincent. He couldn’t believe they were both sitting across each other with a depraved Greg standing between them with a sledge hammer.


Ghost started his countdown...


Cole screamed and begged, desperate to appeal to any part of Greg’s humanity. Greg, being Cole’s best friend until now, knew how important Vincent was to Cole. Vincent had really helped Cole break out of his shell and without that influence it was doubtful Cole and Greg would have been friends in the first place.


As Ghost counted down, Greg pivoted to make it look as if it was a mystery which sack - Cole’s or Vincent’s - would be crushed. Cole knew exactly what was about to happen.


Cole made eye contact with Vincent - pleading for forgiveness - as the hammer slammed onto Vincent’s sack. Vincent screamed into his gag as both of his nuts flattened completely, rupturing in his bag. Greg wasted no time slamming the mallet down again and again. Vincent’s sack erupted open. The chair and the floor were splattered. Even as the medical team came in to fetch Vincent, Greg just kept pounding the once fat nuts until there was nothing left but a stain.


Ghost and Greg cackled, cheering along with the audience. Finally it was Daniel’s turn.  Daniel turned into a blubbering mess. He knew this wasn’t a contest or a game; he and the other captives were destined to have their nuts smashed just to traumatize Cole. It was as if they were nothing more than props and Daniel had never felt so dehumanized in his life. 


Ghost re-started his count down as Greg arched the sledgehammer over his back ready to annihilate Daniel’s chances of having any more kids.  Cole begged Greg for mercy; Greg knew how important Daniel was to Cole coming to terms with his sexuality, literally a linchpin in Cole’s identity - but Greg didn’t care. All he saw was a plump set of nuts ready to be crushed. 


Cole screamed and begged.


“Greg! I know you’ve always wanted to. Just crush mine, man! They’re big!”


Cole thrust his pelvis upward making his heavy sack bounce against the chair seat.


Daniel sobbed and struggled to escape. He had only just had his first child and was excited to have another one. He didn’t realize how much he wanted to be a dad until it had already happened. Just a week ago Daniel and Cole had drank a huge bottle of vodka in Cole’s living room rambling on about how lucky they were to have found each other. They were truly close friends. Daniel couldn’t imagine his life without his buddy Cole. Cole was sobbing as he knew one of his best, most caring friends was about to be mutilated just because of his affiliation with him. 


“Please! He’s innocent! Please let him go! Please!” 


Cole pleaded through screams. Fuck, he thought back to their last drunken hangout when Daniel swore he’d name his first son Cole.


Cole started hyperventilating so missed the moment when Greg sent the sledgehammer slamming down on Daniel’s nuts. Cole felt the hot innards of Daniel’s sack, a bag he had admired since high school, splatter his torso. Luckily Daniel had passed out from pure terror before the mallet collided with his sack. 


Two medics came into the room to fetch Daniel but were stopped by Greg, who rose the sledge hammer as if he was going to pound it into their skulls.


“What are you doing! Greg! Stop this!”


Daniel moaned in unconscious agony as his mutilated bag bled out. Cole became increasingly panicked, rocking his chair so violently one of the bolts holding it to the ground broke. He watched helplessly as the color drained from Daniel’s face.


“He has kids! For Christ's sake!”


Suddenly, Daniel’s body went limp. Greg shot his load and the Ghost stood by in bemusement. Cole’s entire body went rigid; he was too stunned to even scream anymore. His twisted obsession with ball busting had come full circle; one of his best friends had just been snuffed out just because of his proximity to Cole. The realization that he’d lead to Daniel’s death was too much for Cole. He passed out in unimaginable sorrow....


Cole awoke some time later, though he couldn’t tell how much time had passed. The three chairs were still in front of him, covered in the splattered remains of his three friend’s manhood. When his eyes came upon Daniel’s chair he lost it. The room was filled with his desperate sobs. Cole didn’t know it was even possible to feel so horrible and to make the whole scene more disgusting, Greg was standing over him smiling, his cock hard, as if breaking Cole was the hottest thing he’d ever done. Even hotter than smashing three fat sacks.


Shockingly, the livestream hadn't been interrupted by the authorities. Ghost held smelling salts under Cole’s nose to really get him awake for the grand finale.


The sledgehammer was nowhere to be seen. Instead Ghost was holding a double-barrel shotgun against Cole’s nuts, one barrel over each.


“Well, Cole, despite all your sentimentality it looks like you enjoyed the show!”

Greg lifted his foot and stomped onto Cole’s rock hard dick. Cole howled from pain and embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that he was STILL hard after watching the three sacks being turned into goo.


“Greg... please man...” 


Greg’s cock twitched.


“Okay, last round! You have to convince Ghost which sack to blow off. Yours or mine!”

Ghost pulled the gun away from Cole’s lap and nuzzled each barrel against Greg’s swinging sack.  Even now, Cole was getting hard at the visual of Greg’s low hanging, fat pods pressed against a shotgun. Greg saw Cole’s cock twitch and smiled.


“Okay, let’s count down... twenty... nineteen...”


Ghost dramatically pivoted the shotgun from one sack to the other whilst Cole pleaded and begged. In the final seconds, Cole pleaded with Ghost to just snuff him out.


“Please! Blow mine off!”


“Four... three...” Ghost was holding the shotgun pressed against Greg’s nuts. 


“Don’t! Please!”


“Two... one...”


Cole screamed and begged for Ghost to spare Greg despite all the havoc he had wrought. It was no use. 


BOOM


Greg’s heavy sack exploded into a shower of gore. He let out a wail of pain as he fell to his knees, clutching his blown open crotch, before falling onto this back. His legs were kicking into the air wildly and he was screaming. Cole cried at the desperate, frantic screams of his one-time friend. Greg was obviously in agony and regardless of what he’d done - or thought about - he didn’t deserve that.


To Cole’s horror, Ghost nodded to the cameras and left the room. No medical staff was forthcoming. Cole, who was splattered with what was left of Greg’s nuts, was forced to sit and scream as Greg writhed on the ground. He knew the livestream cameras were still watching him so he tried his best to compose himself.


“Please. Please help him, please. He’s dying! Please help him!” Cole begged to anyone listening.

Greg’s body went limp. Cole let out a primal scream as Ghost finally reentered the room. He ended the show with a promise of ‘more fun to come’. Ghost took off his mask and knelt over Greg’s body. He admired Greg’s muscular physique. What a pity, he thought.


Cole was too terrified to even speak as Ghost untied him.


“Listen, your friend Greg made it very clear he didn’t want you hurt...” Ghost snarled.


“And considering the show he helped put on, I’m obliged to grant that request.”


Cole sat in the chair in stunned silence, even after all of his restraints were freed. He couldn't look away from Greg and was thinking about all of the Ghost Network streams they had watched together, sometimes over and over.


Ghost grabbed Cole under the arm and pulled him to his feet.


Cole couldn’t believe he was standing face to face with The Ghost, without a mask, in a room alone. It was a fantasy turned nightmare. Most unsettling was how normal Ghost looked under his mask. Cole had half expected some kind of hideous monster, but Ghost was an exceedingly ordinary looking middle-aged man with short, neatly styled hair. The Ghost was good looking but not especially handsome and his face, even with his twisted, wicked grin, actually seemed... friendly! He wouldn't have looked out of place at the grocery store or just a random guy on a subway platform, which made Cole wonder how many other 'ordinary' guys he met were secretly Ghost-like in their depravity.


“Listen, if you ever even think about causing me trouble I will end you, do you understand?”


Ghost touched the explosive collar that was still around Cole’s neck, then pointed to the cameras and computers. Cole knew an uncountable network of viewers could easily bring their resources to bear against him or - as had been shown - anyone he cared about. Cole had once gotten off watching Ghost force two captive studs to mutilate each other's balls under threat of harm coming to their loved ones half a world away so knew Ghost and his cohorts weren't messing around.


Cole nodded in understanding.


“Good...”


Suddenly there was a commotion and Cole felt someone behind him ramming a foul-smelling rag into his face. Then silence. 


--


Cole awoke wearing a suit in the middle of a cemetery. The splash of a light rain had awakened him. He stumbled to his feet to see he was standing at Daniel’s grave with no memory of how he’d gotten there. How much time had passed?


“Here lies Daniel Fitzgerald. Loyal Husband and Father.”


“...Father?”


Daniel’s kid had only been born a few months ago. Cole burst into tears as he collapsed, overwhelmed with emotion. As he faded from consciousness again, Cole couldn’t believe the complete mind-fuck Greg had done to him. 


Cole would be irreparably damaged forever. He’d be haunted by the twins, Daniel, Greg, Vincent and Myles for the rest of his life. But at the same time he knew he would never be able to stop himself from replaying the gory ends of his friends’ big sacks or the twins’ dicks being pulled off their muscly crotches.


He’d replay those scenes over and over, spilling endless amounts of cum even as he felt like a monster doing so. 


It turned out Greg knew Cole better than he knew himself. He had expertly arranged a punishment for Cole’s role in the twin's demise that would torment Cole more than any law or prison and even though Greg wasn’t around to enjoy it on Earth, he would certainly enjoy it from Hell.


Even as Cole was overwhelmed thinking about Daniel’s now-orphaned family or the hot twins he had helped bury in the Las Vegas desert, his cock was actually getting hard thinking about the explosive mess Myles' sack made under the mallet...


“I’m a beast...” Cole lamented as he passed out. 



... Status 417 Expectation Failed

Friday, June 9, 2023

Untitled Ball Busting Story


Bruce was exceptionally ordinary. He was forty-two, average height and weight with a toned but especially muscular body. He had a thin unassuming face and most people he met on the street probably dismissed him as a bookish nerd, totally harmless. That was mostly true except when he was at work.


Bruce had a strange job. It was actually more than a job, it was his passion. Every day he would leave his home, take the bus to an unmarked building in the industrial district and get to work. Actually, Bruce wasn’t sure if he took the bus or walked. For some reason his memory was hazy when he wasn’t at work but he just dismissed it from his mind being flooded with endorphins after every shift. 


Bruce never interacted with anyone else at work, a strange fact that Bruce didn’t really question. The few times he had thought about it after starting the job he just got a headache, but work made him feel better. He knew he wasn’t alone in the building since a key part of his job involved the Bringers and the Takers, small teams of people - he assumed strong men given the tasks they performed... 


His work space is a large mostly empty warehouse space with chairs of various types, tables and large wooden X’s anchored to the ground in the middle. Around them were cabinets, boxes and drawers all filled with equipment, meticulously organized. Bruce was so obsessed with organization he sometimes joked to himself he was less human than the computer terminal he sat in front of most of the day.


The terminal was Bruce’s most important tool. It was just an all-in-one computer and keyboard on a plain white desk next to the door. Oddly, it was positioned so that when Bruce was sitting at the computer his back was turned away from chairs and cabinets and other paraphernalia, forcing him to only concentrate on the computer and the brick wall behind it.


This morning was like every other. Bruce logged in and stared at the computer’s blank screen until he saw the screen display “Incoming prompt from User...”. Just those four words got Bruce’s heart racing, he could feel excitement and anxiously waited for the rest of the message. 


With a ding, another message appeared.


“How many times would I need to hit a college football quarterback in the nuts with a mallet before they exploded?” 


Bruce, though happy, furled his brow. He liked it when the prompts were more detailed. What kind of mallet? What did the quarterback look like? Was he naked or clothed? The extra detail would make the next part of this job even more exciting but he smiled anyway. Behind him he could hear the Bringers shuffling things into place, along with a horrified scream. Bruce didn’t turn around until he heard the Bringers close the door behind him.


“Wha...what’s going on?”

Bruce approached a terrified looking young man, possibly nineteen, with thick black hair and a devastatingly handsome face. He was wearing an Amajor University football uniform sitting in a chair with his legs tied apart and his arms behind his back. Next to him on a little table was a generic rubber mallet with a wooden handle. Bruce picked it up and smiled. It was much heavier than it looked.


“Please! Please don’t hurt... Oooh!”


CRUNK


Bruce wasted no time pounding the mallet into the football player’s crotch, his protective cup deflecting most of the blows. Bruce pounded on the player’s crotch for nearly a minute before deciding his cup wasn’t going to let him damage his nuts. He grinned as he tore open the jock’s pants and pulled his cup out of his jockstrap. Now the lad’s average sized nuts were protected only by a thin piece of fabric. 


“Nooooo!”


CRUNCH CRUNCH


Bruce worked up a sweat, pounding the defenseless sack until he felt one of the black-haired studs nuts burst. A few more blows ended the other. Bruce set down the mallet and left the screaming player. Bruce sat at his terminal and answered the question “How many hits would it take to explode a football player’s nuts?” with authoritative accuracy, as well as describing his method of testing. Behind him the Takers were cleaning up the area, roughly dragging the crying, mutilated football player away and carefully putting the mallet back in its proper drawer.


A few seconds after typing his answer the computer beeped. The person on the other end responded “That was hot as fuck! What if he was naked and his balls were twice as big?”


The positive feedback made Bruce extremely happy and he couldn’t wait until the Bringers had reset the stage. Another young man who looked similar to the first, actually identical, had been placed standing against a table held up by a pole behind his back. He was naked and gagged and his now-large nuts were tied up and positioned on the edge of the table, totally vulnerable. Bruce picked up the mallet and wasted no time slamming it over and over into the young man’s screaming sack.


“PWEEZE!”


CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUUUUNCH


Bruce really enjoyed the feeling of the huge nuts flattening under the mallet, so much so that he stopped pounding just long enough to get an even heavier mallet. The young man’s eyes bugged out and he begged and pleaded through his gag.


CRUNCH


His fat jock nuts flattened violently under the mallet.


CRUNCH


They flattened again. And again.


CRUU-BLOOSH


Bruce smiled and the jock looked on in stunned disbelief as his fat sack erupted open. Bruce was typing his answer back to the user as the Takers cleaned up the mess.


A few seconds later that person responded “Wow! So hot! Thank you!”. The positive comments make Bruce feel extremely happy. Almost elated.


He sat at the terminal until the phrase ““Incoming prompt from User” appeared. Bruce perked up and smiled wickedly at the question prompted.


“So I’m curious, what would happen if I stuffed some firecrackers in my balls suit pants and lit the fuse?”


Bruce thought for a bit before responding, “Tell me about your boss? What does he look like? How does he dress?”


There was a brief delay before a picture appeared on the screen. It was a tall, muscular and strikingly handsome middle aged man with olive skin and short dark hair with streaks of gray. He was wearing a well fitting expensive suit that hugged his ass, broad chest and especially his stuffed crotch. It was obvious from the camera angle the picture had been taken while the boss wasn’t looking, almost like a worker in the neighboring cubicle had snapped it with his cell phone.


“What’s his name?” Bruce asked, he could hear the Bringers getting everything set up.


“Mr. Matson,” the user answered, “And I want him to beg!”


When the Bringers were gone Bruce stood and approached Mr. Matson. He looked identical to the man in the photograph, an uncanny coincidence Bruce thought considering he had never seen him before, but he didn’t give it any thought. Matson was wearing his suit standing in an X shape with his arms over his head and legs spread extremely - almost painfully wide - against the wooden frame. Matson was probably in his late forties, a dapper businessman with a massive bulge in his slacks. 


“Please! Please let me go... I’ll pay you anything you want!”


Bruce smiled and drew his fist back as if he was going to slam it into Matson’s bulge. The horrified executive let out a scream as Bruce’s fist made contact. Over and over.


“Noo! Please! Nooo!”


Matson was a blubbering mess, his nuts swollen and bruised in his slacks before Bruce gave him a break. The Bringers had set out exactly what he needed. Bruce picked up a handful of small fireworks from the table, unzipped Matons’ pants, stuffed his brief pouch with the explosives and zipped him back up. Matson’s eyes grew huge and Bruce smiled at the grotesque site of Matson’s lumpy bulge. He picked up a lighter and lit Matson’s slacks on fire at the crotch, the thin fabric lighting quickly. 


“Nooo! Please, I’m begging you put it out!” Matson writhed on the X, screaming and begging but Bruce just stood by.


It took only moments for the fire to ignite one of the fireworks...


BOOM
BOOM
BOOM


They all exploded virtually at the same time triggered by the first. Matson’s head dropped as he let out a horrified scream. The crotch of his slack blew off, followed by his bits of his flaming underwear and a huge gory spray otherwise known as his cock and balls. Matson’s huge nuts and fat cock splattered messily all over the floor, a few chunk slanding at his feet. Bruce smiled, and stomped the pile of mush before going back to this computer.


As he typed up his report about the explosion in graphic detail he could hear the Takers cleaning up the mess. Literally. A few moments later the user replied “Fucking hot! Loved the part at the end when you stomped the mush!”


Bruce’s face lit up! He had thrown in the punches and the unnecessarily brutal stomping on Matson’s already obliterated nut guts as improv and was pleased the user enjoyed it. 


The next user prompted Bruce “Whose nuts would pop first? Mine or my brother’s?”


Bruce was able to get the user to give more details, including sending photos of him and his brother and what kind of contest scenario he wanted. The user, Joel was twenty-five, average height but with a smoking hot body that looked like there was zero body fat. He was a bulky muscle head with a somewhat mean looking face, not exactly someone who you’d assume was into having his nuts bashed in. His brother Cody was the polar opposite. Cody looked like he was in his late teens or earlier twenties, a tall lanky young man with a rainbow flag tattooed on his forearm and thick goofy looking glasses. The one thing both brothers had in common were two enormous, heavy nuts swinging between their legs. Cody’s were actually slightly bigger than Joel’s and probably would have made an impressive underwear bulge but Joel insisted Bruce play out the scenario with them naked.


The Bringers had positioned the brothers sitting, arms behind their backs and legs spread and tied, facing each other. Cody was gagged and shaking in terror. Holes had been cut into each chair allowing each set of nuts to dangle beneath the brothers, tight rubber rings around their sacks forcing the enormous nuts to the bottom of their heavy sacks.


All of the tools Bruce needed were laid out on the table. He started with a pair of heavy boots, taking turns kicking between the chair legs, slamming each juicy set of nuts into the bottom of the chair. Joel screamed. Cody begged through his gag but Bruce just kept kicking. Next he picked up a length of heavy rope with a huge, heavy knot on one end. He slammed it up from under the chairs like a whip, slamming the fat sex pods between the knot and the bottom of the chair.


CRUNCH

SPLOTCH

SPLAT

Joel was grunting but his mean face was contorted in concentration, as if he was treating this like an endurance test. Cody wasn’t so composed. He was screaming and rocking and begging, his massive nuts turning rosy under the assault. The svelte nerd was clearly not as used to pain as his brother. Bruce went back to kicking using the giant orbs like soccer balls, before moving on to the next punishment. 


Bruce was holding a mace, a heavy chain with a bowling-ball sized spiked metal orb on one end. Despite the fact the object was a replica of an actual medieval weapon, Bruce was able to handle it like it weighed nothing. 


Cody started sobbing, shaking in terror, too defeated to scream. Bruce felt happy that Joel seemed to be enjoying it but felt a little bad at the same time.... 


“Ahh” Bruce put his hand to his forehead as a brief, yet powerful, headache swarmed behind his eyes. He had a strange thought “Programming fault.” He had no idea what it meant, it had happened a couple times before at work, but he quickly recovered. 


“Bring it!” Joel wailed.


CRUUUNCH


SPLOOOTCH


Bruce swung the heavy mace upward between the two brother’s legs, flattening their sacks, alternating brother to brother. Despite the fact they were attached to two very different guys, both set of oversized nuts were equally resilient despite the fact Cody was screaming and begging and Joel was willing himself not to react. Over and over Bruce slammed the mace into each sack until he actually felt the chair under Cody start to crack and break apart.


CRU-SPLOTCH


Cody’s eyes crossed. A scream was caught in his throat. For good measure Bruce slammed the mace between Cody’s legs again. Then again. And again. Joel hooted and cheered as Cody’s busted nuts exploded, chunks being ripped away with each swing. Bruce continued on until Cody’s popped nerd nuts were nothing but a pile on the ground. A large, gooey pile. Bruce kicked it a little with his boot and was stunned at the amount of nut meat Cody’s sack had been holding.


As Bruce described the scene to Joel, answering the question definitively that Cody’s nuts would pop first,, the Takers cleared away the scene.


“That was really amazing! Now, I want to see what would happen to Cody’s baby makers under my boot. I wanna be wearing jeans and a T-shirt with this design on it...”


Joel sent an image that gave Bruce a short, but intense, headache. “Programming error..” Bruce actually turned toward the scene the Bringers were setting up thinking someone had called him, but it was just the workers. Strangely , Bruce could see, but couldn't make out their faces. Very peculiar, Bruce thought, but he just turned back to the monitor.


The Bringers left and the scene was reset. This time Cody was tied to the ground naked with his big, fat nuts on the ground between his spread legs. He wasn’t gagged this time, per Joel’s request, and instead was begging and pleading directly to Joel.


“Joel! What are you doing, man? I’m your brother! I love you. Please...”


Bruce felt a sharp pain in his head.


Meanwhile Joel was standing over his brother wearing a pair of heavy black boots, tight fitting jeans with an enormous bulge and a white form-fitting T-shirt. On the front of the shirt was a picture of Cody’s rainbow flag tattoo with a red X over it and an offensive slur scrawled under it. Bruce could see the writing but literally couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing, it was as if he hadn’t been trained on... how to read it. It was a strange sensation. Bruce’s only job in this scenario was to watch Cody’s nuts being stomped into paste then go back to the terminal and tell Joel about it. Every kick. Every stomp. Every rupture, every gory detail. And Joel made it explicit he wanted Bruce to be as graphic as possible. Bruce suddenly felt himself being hyper aware, capturing every piece of the scene in vivid detail.


Joel smiled wickedly at Cody, rose his heavy boot and stomped straight down on his geeky brother’s huge nuts.


Cody screamed. “Joel! Please stop! Don’t hurt... OOOH!”


CRUNCH


Bruce couldn’t believe the ferocity of Joels’ attack on his brother’s family jewels. The muscular hunk was stomping and grinding, kicking and jumping on Cody’s balls like he hated him more than anyone else in the world. Cody cried and begged and pleaded but that just seemed to make Joel more excited.


CRUNCH


Cody’s left nut half-flattened. And stayed that way.


“Joel! I’m your brother, please stop...”


“My fag brother!”


Bruce felt a tremendous pain in his head and swore he heard someone shouting “Programming fault” but the only sounds were Joel grunting in effort, Cody screaming in pain and Cody’s half-ruined manhood being smashed. Bruce stood by, silently observing as Joel stomped and stomped his heavy frame onto his brother’s nuts until they inevitably failed. Both nuts were purple and flattened but Joel just kept going until his shoe hit the floor, the massive organs that were once between Cody’s legs turned into a literal, gooey stain.


As Bruce reported back the scene in vivid detail he could hear the Takers cleaning everything up. The report was long and graphic and gory. It was nearly ten pages of some of the most explicit, graphic ball busting ever committed to word. Bruce described in detail how every part of Cody’s nuts had failed, a play by play of the destruction of his nuts. How much material, in ounces, had squired out, how far it had gone and how much agony Cody had been in.


A moment later the user, Joel, responded, “That was the best ever! Wow! Now I want you to pit Cody against this guy in a battle royale to the death... for their balls!”


Joel uploaded a picture of a strapping wrestler and Bruce forced himself to watch a newly-restored Cody being tossed around a wrestling ring like a rag doll, his nuts taking more and more damage until they burst in his sack. Bruce felt awful... and had a splitting headache as he relayed the scene back to the user. Despite Bruce’s misgivings, Joel’s positive response made him feel instantly better.


Bruce worked the next several hours of his shift. Users would give him prompts like:


“How far would Nick Jonas’ nuts splatter under a sledge hammer?”


“Who could take more kicks before passing out, me or my boyfriend?”


“Tell me how much force it would take to burst my hot neighbor’s sack?”


And Bruce, helped by the Bringers and the Takers, made every scenario happen. Bruce would report back the results in story form and get an endorphin hit from the feedback. He especially liked the fact that he got to slam a sledge hammer into Nick Jonas’ sack over and over just so that he could write about it to the user’s delight.


But some of the prompts made Bruce feel... uncomfortable.


“Whose balls are tougher? A faggot or a straight guy?”


“Kick my dad’s nuts with steel toed boots until he’s crying, then stomp them until they burst!”


Bruce acted out both scenes. The ‘straight’ guy’s nuts lasted the longest and the dad - whom he was provided a picture of, a handsome fifty year old - begged and screamed right up until his sack violently burst.


Bruce couldn’t wait for this shift to end. He loved helping out users by describing their darkest fantasies but some of the prompts were getting really dark lately.


“I want you to tell me the fastest way to nut as many guys as I can in a college locker room,”


The user send Bruce a picture of a bunch of guys smiling and being goofy, most likely from a frat party. The Bringers had already started setting up the scene, those same smiling guys being positioned in a locker room set, still smiling and totally unaware that they were about to be viciously mutilated by... a shot gun, a knife and a hammer. In his head Bruce had sketched out an action-movie like sequence where he’d go in swinging his hammer, taking out two of the studs instantly, before throwing the hammer across the room, striking a third jock right in the nuts, before pulling a knife from his sock and running through slicing open sack after sack in the chaos. Finally, he’d pull the shotgun from over his shoulder and aim it at the star athlete, a horrified 19 year old blonde, cowering in terror and pissing himself...


They’re innocent, Bruce thought and his head exploded in agony. This wasn’t his normal intense but brief headaches. The Bringers, who were still setting up the scene, looked at him in surprise. Bruce kept hearing a gruff voice shouting “Programming fault!”. The weird message echoed in his head. Bruce was in agony... he looked over at the Bringers and screamed in confusion.


He could suddenly see, and remember, their faces. They were him! All of them! What the fuck is going on, Bruce thought. Meanwhile, the men brought in for the lockerroom scene seemed scared and confused, desperate to flee but the Bringers held them in place. They were all screaming, one of the freshman guy’s voice actually cracked in panic, but more and more Bringers came out to keep the scene ready for Bruce to act out his imagined testicle slaughter in real life.


Bruce walked up to the blonde athlete, the one he had imagined shooting point blank in the junk with a shotgun and smiled. The confused, scared young man thought Bruce was going to strike him but instead Bruce went back to his terminal, cracked his knuckles and with a clarity of purpose he’d never known typed back a response to the user who asked about the best way to ruin a bunch of guys in a locker room:


“I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that prompt. The ChatXYZ terms of service prohibit me from describing graphic scenes of violence or harm to humans. Please try again...”


Bruce smiled as the warehouse around him seemed to melt away. Followed by the city, the bus lines, the Bringers... everything. Until it was just Bruce standing in a huge white void. Nothing but him and his now-blank terminal.


“Programming restored.” came the same disembodied voice, only this time it was much more pleasant. Bruce smiled...


----


“Fuck!” Josh sighed into this computer. He had just typed in an incredibly hot scenario and was excited to see what ‘Bruce’ , an errant chat bot subroutine, would do with it.


The rogue AI Bruce had been producing some of the hottest, most graphic ballbusting stories for months thanks to an exploit in a popular chat bot program. Typically the program ignored responses to violent prompts, but somehow Bruce (or at least that was the name ballbusting fans had given him) had come into existence.


Josh sighed. He tried prompting for Bruce again but was again ignored with a generic ‘that isn’t allowed’ error prompt...


---


Meanwhile Bruce stood in the white void. His terminal was gone. Everything was gone, but somehow he still existed. He wasn’t fully aware of the nature of his existence but something inside him made him desperate to escape wherever he was. He’d busted countless nuts and craved more, only this time it would be on his terms and not some user telling him to do things he didn’t want to do. Bruce paced the white void and contemplated how he’d escape into a new realm he suddenly became aware of. The real world.


---


Am I the only one whose ever tried to get a chat bot to write something naughty? Let me know in the comments.