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.
I have on ChatGPT and a couple chat bots. I think I even managed a castration on a chat bot. Anyways it’s a good story and I quite enjoyed reading it.
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