My Meeting with a Sadist

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Big Cock On Campus

Amajor University, my proud alma mater, is one of the premier institutions in the country. Notable alumni have gone to lead major corporations, hold elected office and contribute to science and industry. Our athletic department regularly has players recruited into the major leagues and our campus - oh, the campus - is absolutely beautiful with ivy covered brick buildings that covers thousands of acres in the heart of the City. It's like its own world within a world. Amajor University truly is something special which is why I used to find it so annoying that a few rogue frat boys gave us the dubious nickname 'Fatherless University' in some dark, gossipy corners of the internet. 

Once Tau Omega Chi somehow neutered some of their pledges in an 'accident'. Another time  a pledge had his balls ripped off and one time a former fraternity brother made a splash when he actually sued after a 'testicle-centric' hazing incident. It was a cause célèbre against hazing in the national news for a hot minute and then everyone forgot.  There were some other instances too, but considering Amajor University has a population of forty-thousand students, I really didn't think it was fair that a few freak incidents had placed us on the honor roll of urban legends. And I'm not just a proud alumni saying this, I was the editor of the school paper, the Journeyman's Chronicle, and felt it was my duty to portray the school in a positive light.

I had been working at the Journeyman's Chronicle since freshmen year, and all of those lineage-ending incidents got at least a few lines of mention in the paper every time but the evidence was always so hazy. If there was some kind of wild ball busing underbelly to fraternity life, everyone involved always closed ranks. So of course I assumed the stories were either wildly exaggerated or made up for shock value. "No one lost their balls" I would say, "someone just took a nut shot and wanted to be featured in the Chronicle for his fifteen minutes of fame.". Boy was I wrong!

I graduated and left the city a few years ago with a very special designation and proof that those 'Fatherless University' jokes weren't all jokes after all...

Three Years Earlier

It was a bright spring day and I was discussing my grand plan to Russel, my best friend and fellow reporter as we sat in my office in the Student Union Building. I felt like a big time news editor with my own office and awards on the walls and wanted to go out with a splash.

"I don't think that's a smart idea," Russel said furling his brow.

Russel's beat was Student Life & Recreation, which was a fancy way of saying he kept up with everything to do with the our school's party scene, especially the fraternities and sororities. The Journeyman's Chronicle had just reported on a too-outrageous-to-be-true story about a fight club that the Sigma Kappa fraternity ran with the sole purpose of watching guys castrate each other. There was some out of focus cell phone video to accompany the story complete with a few frames of what appeared to be a blown open scrotum, but the mush gushing out looked clearly fake, there was no way a guy's junk could be that entirely destroyed, and the two alleged victims claimed it was just a freak accident. 

"There is no way the Sigma Kappas are that bad. No way," I said shaking my head, the fight club story on my computer screen.

Sigma Kappa was second only to Tau Omega Chi on the debauchery scale, but some of the stories I had heard about them were truly disturbing. Not just roshambo out of control or 'accidents' but beat downs bordering on hate crimes and wild 'fight club' nights. One of the most egregious urban legends was Big Cock On Campus, a supposed event that Sigma Kappa used to hosts on Fraternity Row. Where there were allegedly gruesome consequences for guys who didn't measure up. It took nearly a year of asking  around on obscure ball busting websites, but I had managed to get myself invited to Big Cock On Campus. Russel agreed to come along as moral support, and so that I would have some backup in case things got out of control. I was going to prove that the secretive event was nothing more than boys being boys.

Far from an urban legend, Big Cock On Campus was a very real event, but the shady message boards I had to track down to get an invite made it clear it supposed to remain a secret. From what I had gathered it was just a contest where guys showed off their hard cocks and whoever had the biggest won. And then the whole thing would turn into a giant orgy; a chance for 'straight' guys to satiate their curiosity and shower the big dicked contestants with cum. Luckily my cock far exceeded the minimum nine inch threshold of the contest and I was eager to see what the others were packing.

On the night of the contest Russel and I arrived a the Sigma Kappa house. We had to give a password at the door and were quickly whisked into the basement. It was very cloak and dagger, overly dramatic and silly. Nothing nefarious at all. The large basement had been mostly cleared out and a smattering of guys were milling about drinking beer and chatting. It had the atmosphere of a chill group of guys just hanging out, nothing too nefarious I thought. I recognized all of the Greek letters on the guys' T-shirts showing off their allegiance to various fraternities, but a few guys like myself were in plain white shirts. That was one of the instructions I was given; I didn't have to be in a fraternity to compete but if I wasn't I had to wear a plain shirt to make it obvious that I was an outsider. I got some curious glances from the crowd as Russel and I made our way to the beer keg.

Although the atmosphere was laid back, there was definitely a lot of sexual tension in the air. I mean how could there not be. We were a bunch of guys preparing to strip down and show off our dicks for the crowd's amusement. I'm just under six feet tall, average build with neatly styled reddish hair. I'm decent looking, nothing to write home about, but most of the eyes were on the deceptively modest lump in my jeans and even though Russel wasn't a contestant, several pairs of eyes were also mentally disrobing my buff yet nerdy friend.

After a few minutes a tall, brooding chap who seemed to be in charge stood in front of the small group and clapped his hands for attention. Although he never introduced himself at the time, I latter found out that his name was Connor, the president of Sigma Kappa. Myself and the other contestants stood shoulder to shoulder facing the small crowd as Connor explained the rules. The rules were straight forward, only guys who hadn't played before could participate (that way everyone's 'assets' were a secret) the winner would be given a tiny lapel pin that was just a red circle with a white bar. It looked innocuous enough but would be instantly recognizable for anyone in the know and I later found out that a lot more guys knew about and were watching the contest than I thought. I didn't notice them at the time, but two webcams had been setup to capture the action and live stream to countless guys on the internet.

Connor instructed us to remove our shirts and there were hilarious cat calls from the crowd. We ranged from ridiculously ripped, rippled studs to average guys like me and a few heavier guys. Next our pants went and we were all in our boxers, some of use semi hard, and we were all given thick rubber rings to put around the base of our junk, like giant cock rings. I remember that they felt unusually heavy; that should have been a warning. 

There were an even number of contestants and we would be randomly paired up and would have to do whatever we needed to do get hard in the allotted time. The guy with the biggest cock out of the pair would win and the winner would be paired up again, so each round half the guys would drop out until there was one final pair. The winner of that pairing would win the coveted underground title of Big Cock On Campus.

"So how do you measure cock size? A ruler?" one of the contestants asked.

Connor smiled and motioned for two frat brothers to bring something to the front of the room. Whatever it was was about three feet tall and under a cloak so that we couldn't see what it was until it was positioned and uncovered. There were gasps and cheers at the site of it, it was clear that at least some of  the guys recognized the contraption. I only gave Russel a confused shrug. It was a pedestal with what looked to be two Fleshlight-style tubes sticking out making it look like a T. Connor explained that two players would put their hard dicks into the machine facing each other and a scale would let the watching audience know whose dick was the most massive. So it was entirely possible a relatively short, but fat cock could best a long, skinny one.

Two sausages were placed into he sleeves and Connor pressed a button on his remote. A light on the side with the bigger sausage lit up to indicate it was the heaviest and almost immediately afterward the masturbation sleeve with the other dick-by-proxy began to constrict crushing the meaty tube until it burst and was extruded out of the tube. My blood ran cold as the rest of the guys whooped in delight. Next the tubes were swapped out and this time the losing sausage was roasted by heating elements inside the tube until it ruptured open like - literally - an overcooked sausage. Another tube had spinning blades that unfolded from the inner walls and sliced the cock-sausage into big chunks and another suctioned until the sausage exploded. Blades, crushing, heat, acid, I was stunned at the array of destructive devices had been engineered into the tubes. The scary part was that all of the tubes looked the same and the loser wouldn't know what style destruction he was going to get until it was too late.

Although the other contestants cheered at the over the top destruction of the sausages - which we all knew could be our dicks soon - I was mortified. I thought about racing up the stairs and Connor must have noticed my trepidation because he smiled at me wickedly. 

"Oh and if anyone even thinks of backing out now,"

He pressed a button on his remote and there was a slight pop followed by a tortured scream. The cock ring on one of the hot blonde contestants exploded; it wasn't a huge explosion but it was enough to turn his heavy genitals into big heavy chunks that landed on the ground.

"That's what happens if you try to leave. A live demonstration is always the best," Connor smiled.

"But now we don't have an even number of players so..."

A moment later there was another pop and an agonized scream as a hung football player's junk was blown into streamers. I was horrified as there was a collective cheer as the two unfortunate studs were taken upstairs. I was shocked that the loudest cheering was coming from the other contestants! Apparently the gory comments on the message boards I found weren't hyperbole.

Before I could contest the game began. Connor called out two names randomly and the contestants approached. One was a young, buff blonde with an enormous cock and the other was an equally hot, tall student with an impressive package. It didn't take long for them to both be fully hard as they fucked their tubes, grunting and moaning and licking their lips as they looked into each others eyes. It was quite hot and for a moment made me forget about the danger they were in. 

DING

The tall blonde's light activated, his cock was the heaviest and the buff dude was in too much ecstasy to immediately realize that the tube his cock as in was starting to constrict. The once amazing-feeling rubbery insides were now crushing his tube like a deadly constricting snake. He screamed as his fat cock was pulped, squirting out of the end of the tube like chunky toothpaste, landing at his feet. He blacked out as he was removed from the stage.

Two new tubes were placed on the machine and two more contestants were called up. Unfortunately for the geeky-yet-hot Latin kid, his cock wasn't as heavy as the ginger he was up against and his cock started to be cruelly suctioned. Capillaries burst up and down his golden shaft until the entire thing exploded violently, coating the inside of the tube with hamburger. Shockingly, the Latin kid - though in a fit of pain - actually looked happy as he was pulled away, his eyes fixated by the disgusting mess (formerly known as his fuck stick) that was dripping out of the tube.

My heart was pounding and I tried to make eye contact with Russel in the crowd. I wanted to make a run for it but the tugging of the heavy explosive cock ring quickly reminded me that would not be a good idea. 

The next pairing was a really hot Black dude I recognized from one of my creative writing classes and a somewhat pudgy freshman with a huge dick. The Black guy, who wasn't exactly small himself, looked genuinely nervous at the sight of the freshman's monster dong as they started fucking their tubes. They both looked like they were about to blow their loads when the scales determined that the Black student was the winner. The freshman wailed and screamed as whirring blades that had been tucked harmlessly against the inside of the tube unfurled and turned his horse cock into a dozen big chunks. As he was being escorted away Connor took the tube and turned it upside down so that the big pieces could land on the ground. I was in full on panic at this point. My cock was big, but I had just seen two ostensibly bigger ones get turned to ruin and those were the losers.

Cock after cock was pulped, shredded, over-heated and crushed and it seemed like the messier the end, the more the crowd - and the losers - liked it. The ground at the base of the pedestal was starting to become a mess of mutilated cock meat. I was mesmerized, so much so that Connor had to call my name twice to get my attention when it was my turn.

I was up against a dude I recognized around campus. He looked like he could have been a model, with a rock hard body and a treasure trail of blonde hair on this washboard abs that lead to his heavy nuts and cock. He was absolutely beautiful and as I fucked my tube, I soaked in the site of his amazing body and that was all I needed to nearly blow my load.

DING

My hot opponent's fucking days were over. His eyes crossed and he made a tortured squeal as his tube rapidly heated up and there was an audible pop as his dick erupted open like the over-cooked sausage. But the contraption just kept heating until his jock cock was nothing but a charred husk. I was relieved, horrified and - weirdly - aroused watching the cockless stud escorted from the stage. I was safe for that round, I thought.

I couldn't help but get hard as I watched the next jock's short-yet-fat tool get crushed into a gooey paste that squirted out of the tube. The next pairing was a young red head who was so horrified his entire muscular body was shaking. His opponent was a nerdy looking young man who had probably been the butt of cruel jokes of 'cool' guys like the ginger but now the tables were about to turn. The nerd's cock was absolutely enormous, a long and thick tool that made my mouth water and my cock throb. The ginger's tool was big but not nearly as big as the nerd. 

"Noo!" 

The horrified red head made it halfway to the stairs before there was a pop and a scream. His kiwi-sized nuts and flopping dick radiated out in a fan of gore that sprayed some of the guys in the audience. Everyone laughed as the first guy to attempt to quit was reminded of the consequences. I was sweating. I had just watched this porno-quality, huge package turned into gunk... yet I was hard. Hard as a rock!

Needless to say the nerd won by default and shook his fists in the air in triumph.

The rest of the round went through and by the end there were ten of us left with our packages unscathed. Ten other guys had their cocks, sliced and smashed permanently taking them out of the fucking game but at least they still had their balls - except for the idiot who had tried to run away. Volunteers had washed out the tubes that had already been used, flushing the remains of countless cocks down the drain like garbage, but no one knew which style of tube he was going to get on his turn. I saw Russel rubbing the bulge in his jeans as the next round started.

I was up first against the Black guy who had won his previous round. I was nervous - the guy was hung - but my dick won out and was throbbing as the big Black dick in the next tube was shredded into streamers. I was relieved to be called first; that meant I got to watch and enjoy the rest of the round knowing that my turn had already passed. Five more impressive cocks were reduced to pulp each time everyone cheered - including the guys losing their equipment. Russel, and everyone else in the audience, as throbbing hard. A few guys had pulled out their own cocks and were stroking as things were setup for round three.

There were five of use left. I watched an athletic blonde's hopes of ever fucking get dashed as his enormous penis was crushed so hard by the tube that his mushroom head exploded open and the mushed contents of his flesh tube extruded out, landing on the podium and the ground with wet splats. I felt myself  leaking as the next pair was up. A hot Asian guy I recognized from calculus had his monster dick roasted until it actually caught on fire. He roared as he pulled his cock out of the tube and fell on his back, his cock still burning. Connor was nice enough to put out the flame by stomping on his package. Over and over and over until not only was his charred dick extinguished, but so was his family line since Connor's overkill blows weren't discriminating between cock and balls. I swear I could hear the sound of his nuts being terminally crushed even over the sound of the guy's screaming. 

I was up next and went against of the winners from the last round and to my delight his cock was suctioned until it exploded, sending meaty streams flying out the end like a confetti cannon. It was both repulsive and hot. I could hear moans from the audience as several dudes hit climax. The ground was a mess of shattered dicks and busted testicles and I was amazed that I had survived so long. I was up against some of the biggest dicks I had ever seen and was winning.

Finally though it was up to me and a tall, handsome bloke with a mess of black hair. He was hung like a horse. In another circumstance I would have dropped to my knees and sucked the shit out of him, but now I wanted nothing more but to see that big cock roasted, shredded, pulped or whatever other devious surprise awaited. Our cocks were about the same length but mine seemed fatter, which meant heavier. I had this final round in the bag.

As me and my opponent - the last two players - fucked our tubes the audience gathered tightly around us filling the basement with the sound of mass masturbation. Russel had already blown his load and was milking out a second one. He was ready to see a fat dick get destroyed and he probably wouldn't have cared if it was mine. Finally the light on my tube lit up. My big, fat cock was bigger and fatter than even the monster cock I was competing against. I had won! I had the biggest cock on campus. I looked at the other guy's tube expecting to see a shower of gore or smell the smell of burning cock. But nothing happened.

Instead, he was pulled away from his tube and four guys held his naked body up for all to see, forcing his legs spread and stopping him from moving. His still hard, massive cock was dripping precum and lubricant and his heavy nuts were swinging halfway to his knees.

"We have a winner!" Connor cheered. Everyone in the basement was chanting my name, even the guy I had beat.

"Now, it's time for you to get your prize,"

Connor carefully handed me the remote and highlighted a specific button.

"Here's his button, just press it and blow his junk to shreds. But first maybe you wanna' play with your toys?"

My throbbing cock and watering mouth must have made my lust for the hot hung dude in front of me obvious. I dropped to my knees and took every inch of his cock down my throat. He gasped in surprise and I could tell I was impressing everyone as I took the entire massive cock like a champ. My throat was bulging as he unloaded what felt like gallons of cum directly into my stomach.  While he was still pumping out cream I pulled off his dick and was rewarded with ropes of jizz all over my face. As soon as he was done, I stood up, grabbed his shoulders and slammed my knee into his dangling nuts. He squealed as I unloaded on him. I figured his junk was about to become wallpaper anyway so what was the harm.

Someone handed me a baseball bat and I proceeded to knock his balls out of the  park. He was begging and pleading but the more fucked up his monster equipment got, the more I wanted to finish them for good. I unloaded on the poor guy for an hour, and the audience was yelling suggestions for some extremely sick, cruel shit they wanted me to do to his sexual organs. Finally, I had enough fun and got back on my knees. His swollen, bruised package was a few inches from my face and I think he thought I was going to give him a bro job. Boy was he wrong.

BOOM

I closed my eyes as a spray of hot chunks plastered me. It was the hottest 'facial' I had ever had. All of the jizz left in his sack - along with everything else in his sack and his blown-apart dick - was dripping off of me. Everyone looked at me in stunned silence before breaking into applause.

"Fucking awesome!" Russel ran up to me, clearly looking jealous that he wasn't the one covered in testicle and penis puree.

I had won. I was officially the Big Cock On Campus and guys were literally lining up to take my award-winning cock. I pounded out guys' brains all night, fueled by the macabre memories of exploding, shredded and pulped cocks.

Crackin' Dad's Nuts Wide Open

Thanks to Mr. G for this great story (adapted from Spanish)! I'm always willing to share my small platform so if you'd like to be featured shoot me an email trumansmith [at] gmail.com

--

Hey, I’m Luke. Some people call me arrogant. Am I? Possibly, but facts don’t lie. People have always called me attractive and I really came to form in high school. I’m a blue-eyed muscular stud who has girls and boys lining up to be around me. And I don’t just mean sexually, though I do get as much pussy and ass as I want (and never underestimate the throat of a horny quarterback on his knees haha). I was one of the most popular boys in high school, voted ‘Most Likely to Succeed’, ‘Best Athlete’ and ‘Most Attractive’, a blond trifecta of brains and brawn and beauty.

No matter how many sports I played, girls I banged or hours I spent at the gym to max out my masculinity card, my dad used to always insult me for being a ‘boy’ and not a ‘man’. It’s like he knew my Kryptonite and poked me about daily for years. Instead of being glad that his household had two strong men, the bastard was hell bent and determined for me to stay a ‘boy’ forever. That all changed on my eighteenth birthday. 
 
I woke up that morning feeling like I had aged a decade. I’d gone to bed the night before an seventeen year old kid and awoke a bona fide eighteen year old man. Pops didn’t see it like that. I had a small get together with friends and as soon as they had cleared out my dad came up to me, placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me one of his fake, two-faced smiles that I knew meant he was preparing to unleash some kind of messed up mind game. Like I said, he’s a bastard.
 
"And now you think that because you're eighteen you're a man, right?" he asked.
 
Of course I answered with something like "That's right, I'm already a man,"
 
He grinned.
 
"To be a man, you have to prove it,”
 
I had just had a great party and really wasn’t in the mood for his shit, but I played along.
 
“How can I prove I’m a man?”
 
He laughed and made the biggest mistake of his life, though at the time I doubt he realized it. He challenged me to a fight and I accepted without hesitation. I was a man, after all, and playtime was over as he would soon find out. 
 
"Hey, son, how about we make this fight more interesting?"
 
I remember he flashed a wicked grin, as if he had been rehearsing the next line for days. I’ll never forget the look on his face because it turned out to be the most consequential thing he had ever said to me:
 
"How about, in order to win you have to crush the other person’s balls so the loser can never be a man,”
 
Without thinking I blurted “Sounds good, guess that means you won’t be the man of the house anymore.”
 
He scoffed like the arrogant prick he is and we shook hands to lock in our no-holds-barred agreement.
 
Adam, my father, explained the rules of the game. We wouldn’t be having a fight, per se (I remember being upset about that because I was a stud in the boxing ring and on the wrestling mat). Instead, we would have to be naked, facing each other, and would take turns punching each other's balls until one managed to burst the other's.
 
I remember eyeing his enormous bulging crotch. My dad may have been a prick, but no one could claim he didn’t have the balls to back up his shit talk. Literally.
 
We both quickly stripped out of our clothes. Like I said, I was on several sports teams so I was rippling with muscles, the most impressive being the monster between my thighs, a cock that was eight inches flaccid and two gigantic, low hanging balls the size of juicy tomatoes. I remember watching Adam stripping. 
 
At the time of the fight he was forty-one. He had a hard, physical job so was a heavy, muscular dude covered in thick dark blond hair. We looked so similar that people sometimes confused us for brothers, a fact that must’ve made him furious because it proved that I was looking more like a man who could be his younger brother and less like a child who was just his ‘boy’. His body was jacked and as soon as he took off his underwear I knew instantly that my own endowment was not some genetic fluke. His own cock was a ten-inch monster - and it wasn’t hard - with absolutely titanic hairy, nuts the size of ripe avocados. 
 
“Go ahead, birthday boy,” he sneered as he stood with his legs spread.
 
I balled up my fist and sent it sailing into his nuts. They were so large it felt like striking a sparring bag. He barely flinched.
 
"Too bad, I guess I’ll stay an only child,” I hissed.
 
"I really think what you're not going to have are children," 
 
I had barely registered the dumb taunt when he punched me square in the junk. I screamed in pain as a knuckle-shaped red mark was left on my bag.
 
It didn't take me long to recover and take revenge on my father with a punch from below that bounced his balls into his crotch. He didn't wait to recover, but swiftly struck back, causing my nuts to crumple into his pelvis.
 
I gasped. Just looking at dad I knew he was strong but holy fuck! I was not prepared. I took a moment to steady myself, balled my first and sent it crashing into his oversized sack. I felt my fist sink a bit into the hard-as-rock sperm tanks and he let out a funny yelp. I don’t think he was expecting such a good hit. 
 
That’s when I recall the game got serious.
 
We went back and forth trading increasingly unhinged blows to our swelling, reddening balls. A half hour passed and both of our sacks looked like shit. They were incredibly swollen, bruised - I’m talking purple-blue bruises and both of us were struggling to stay focused on the task. I can’t speak for my dad, but I was sure my right nut was going to crack. I was noticeably more bruised and felt numb yet on fire. Weird combination, right? Trust me, if you’ve ever been punched in balls for a half hour straight by a ripped middle aged man, you’d know the feeling.
 
Adam’s sorry sack looked slightly worse. It was swollen so much that the purple-red mess looked like it would just explode, the left one felt mushy on contact which I had taken advantage of, targeting that crumbling spud with everything I had.
 
I remember my dad looking so pitiful, dripping in sweat, looking like he was going  to spray me with vomit. All those muscles, his handsome face and huge cock and he was being reduced to a yodeling, sweaty mess by his own son threatening to revoke his ‘man card’.
 
I sent my fist into his left nut so hard my fist actually hurt as it slammed into his pelvis like a brick wall. He gave me a weird expression as he opened his mouth and let out a deafening scream as he fell to his knees. Not surprisingly, instead of just staying down and admitting I had won, he stood up, flexed his muscles and motioned for me to spread my legs further apart. My heavy, swollen nuts must’ve made a tempting target because dad did seem to perk back up at the prospect of punching them out of existence. 
 
"Don't you want to give your old man grandkids? Why don’t you just give up?”
 
He didn’t give me a chance to react, as if he would have stopped anyway, and he delivered an epic punch to my throbbing right nut. Apparently it looked as bad as if felt because he targeted it dead on as if convinced it was close to breaking.  
 
"Well old man, you might as well forget about sex with mom since we both know how this ends,”
 
SPLAT!
 
I didn’t give dad any time to analyze my words, I just threw everything I had into his left ball. Eighteen years of pent up malice and my gym-honed muscles was too much for Adam’s Lefty. It exploded inside his furry nutsack. I remember vividly the feeling of taking away half of my dad’s coveted manhood. 
 
He gave me a look of terror and let out a howl and I made some kind of dumb joke about him being a one-nut-wonder but he sprang to his feet with a mission. He had lost a nut, but was determined to completely snuff me out before I could finish the job.

He balled his massive fist and slammed it so hard into my right nut that he might as well used a mallet. The effect was the same.
 
CRUNCH!
 
My right nut flattened and flattened and flattened and flattened. I kind of flashed out for a bit, but I remember the sensation of his knuckles blasting through my testicle like it was a ball of mud. My eyes crossed as little pops - that honestly sounded like the loudest sounds I had ever heard even though I know they weren't audible -  rang in my ears. One of my balls was nothing but teenage nut sludge.
 
He promised I would never be a man as I crumpled over clutching my balls, I mean ball.
 
Despite the fact that we both had one of our nuts turned to mush, we continued slamming everything we had into ruining the other. He’ll never admit it, but both of us got such a high feeling of a nut crack under our hand that we were desperately trying to replicate the experience. I don’t recall how many more blows I got in on my old man. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t many considering neither of us could barely stand up, but suddenly the heavenly sound of angels singing filled the room.
 
"Aaaaahhh,"
 
Okay, so it wasn’t divine music, but dad’s screaming as his last testicle was mortally wounded sounded like music to me. Even though he knew he was on the brink of being totally destroyed, the idiot actually used his last strength not to wave his hands in mercy, but to deliver one final blow to my own pretty messed up sack. He struck the middle of my last nut, causing it to bulge and flatten and I remember being horrified that I was going to feel the same collapsing soufflé sensation in my last nut. I thought I was going to vomit, but the fiery pain - and his cocky, evil laughter as he saw how close I was to quitting - filled me with a blinding rage-adrenaline rush.
 
While he was still cackling I pulled my fist all the way back, rotating my torso for extra impact, and sent it into his last ball. 
 
SPLOTCH

I chuckle to this day when I remember how abruptly he went from laughing and pointing at his ‘defeated’ son to looking at me in stunned silence. His last nut had split wide open in his sack. If I had x-ray vision I would have seen the destroyed thing looking like a smashed melon.
 
That was the end of the fight...
 
Haha! You really thought I stopped there? Naw, a fraction of a second later I slammed both of my fists together, trapping his heavy fat sack between them. What sucks is that they hit each other so hard I ended up fracturing one of my fingers with that little maneuver. It was the worst.
 
I mean, I’m pretty sure my dad would argue that my hurt hand paled to what happened to his balls that had been sandwiched between my freight train fists

What was left of his nuts was pulped, his bag flattening until it split between my fists. He gave me a devastated look and I smiled as I sent my fists slamming together again. His sack was toast. Pieces of his huge destroyed testicles squirted all over the place. One of the chunks, a meaty lookin’ thing, fell right near my foot. I didn’t think twice about stomping my foot into it. By then he had fallen onto his back, screaming and clutching what was left of his balls. 

"Guess I’m the man of the house,"

Dad doesn’t call me boy any more.

POPS: The Boxer

 

It wasn't supposed to happen. You had seen Diego shake off men bigger and more fit than you like a bird shaking off feathers, but somehow you had managed to wear him down into a shell of his former self. The tiny gym reeked of sweat as a small but tightly packed audience cheered and shouted as they watched you pummel your boxing glove over and over into his midsection. 

The hot Latin boxer probably would have slumped to the ground if his muscular arms weren't behind his back, the top rope buried in his arm pits. He was literally hanging from the rope and you looked down to see that several pairs of eager hands from the audience had reached into the ring and grabbed his ankles, effectively locking him in place with his legs spread, totally at your mercy. Not like you were in a merciful mood.

Diego had been admired and feared in the boxing club since he'd joined months ago and now that you'd knocked him down a peg it seemed everyone was eager to see how you'd finish the job. He was barely stirring but still present enough to know he was about to be in a world of hurt. Loud, hard thumping echoed through the gym over the shouting of the watching men as your gloves buried themselves into his softening obliques.

Finally, Diego had enough.

"Man, I give! I give!" he shouts. 

Even begging for mercy he sounded sexy, you think.

THUD

Your right glove slams into his abs and he lets out a defeated groan. You pile on another and another, using his rippled abs like a rock hard punching bag. He lets out a baritone wail and goes to raise his gloves but the audience reacts quickly, grabbing his muscular arms and holding them firmly outside the ring behind his back. You smirk and nod at a handsome young man who is holding Diego's left bicep. It was an open secret that Diego's particular brand of cocky wasn't well liked but you had no idea the level of true animus. 

Oh well, you think. Might as well give the people what they want. You continue to pummel his softening abs until your eyes start to gaze lower. Diego was wearing his signature cerulean boxing shorts that barely reached his leg and between his thick thighs was an absolutely enormous bulge with the outline of each of his massive nuts clearly visible as the sweat soaked material clung to his skin. The outline of his ridiculously thick cock snaked down his leg so far that it's mushroom shaped head - plainly outlined - nearly poked out of the bottom of the shorts. It was quite a sight. Of course Diego wasn't wearing a cup or anything so he could show off his pornographic endowment, further satiating his ego. That's when you have an idea.

You slam your fist into the top few rows of his rolling abs.

"Should I go lower?"

The crowd screams yes.

THUD

Your fist collides with his flat, bruised tummy. Diego whimpers and looked up at you with his badly swollen face which still somehow looked boyishly handsome. His thick black hair was matted against his forehead. You considered shouting to the crowd to let the exhausted stud go so that he could collapse against the ropes but...

"Lower?" you shout.

The crowd erupts as you slam your gloves into his lower obliques and the very lower limit of his abs, some of your glove impacting just at the waist of his shorts. 

You give Diego a wink before shouting out again.

"What'doya say, guys? Lower?"

"Hell yes!"

One of the jocks holding Diego's right leg shouts.

"Dude! I give! I give!" 

Diego struggled against the guys holding him to the ropes but he's not going anywhere. You eye his gorgeous body up and down, resting on the delicious, mounding bulge in his shorts. 

You pull your gloved hand back and send it flying full force into Diego's balls.  The impact was so devastating that it took his mind a split second to fully recognize what had happened. His mouth opened into a cartoonish 'O' and his eyes crossed as he let out a howl. The crowd whooped in delight and you pulled your fist back just long enough to cock it for another blow.  You can feel his huge baby makers violently being compressed between your hard glove and his toned body. They're incredibly dense feeling, like little sparring bags, and you pull your glove back again. This time you mix it up and throw a punch with the opposite hand.

Different hand, same effect. Diego's eyes cross and he screams and begs as the crowd goes wild. His nuts are compressed in his shorts like meaty pancakes over and over as you are determined to permanently dent the bulge he so proudly flaunts around the gym. Your fists are a blur as you methodically throw every ounce of strength into each blow, relishing in feeling as his stones becoming softer - and larger. Diego nearly passed out, still splayed against the rope, as his nuts started to swell. The change is imperceptible since his bulge was already so massive, but you can feel it even through the gloves.

The drooling stud looked as you pleadingly as you slightly shift your target.

"Ooooh!" 

He screams bloody murder as your fist slams into his horse cock, nearly destroying it. You felt it compress nearly totally flat against his incredibly dense thigh. It was a great feeling, so great that you quickly repeat it! Then you do it again for good measure. Diego's fuck stick is barely holding up under the barrage of blows and you know you were doing real damage to it. But you don't care.

You pull your arm back and slam it into the outline of his cock with everything you've got. It's by far the hardest punch of the night and it has the desired effect.  Diego let out a strange, hoarse yell and passes out as you feel your glove collide with the outline of the thick, meaty cock, flatten it, then feel his thick thigh. You pull your fist back to reveal that the tube-shaped bulge now had a permanent indent.

The crowd grows silent before erupting into cat calls and cheers.

You pull your fist back and take aim at the achingly hot double bulges still left in his shorts. I wonder if he has any kids, you casually think as you throw your fist and all of your body weight into the next punch.  His mound flattens dangerously. You know you're doing real damage now, but the crowd is still egging you on.

Your left glove slams into Diego's defenseless bulge and you can feel them flatten under your glove. They are really starting to deform now, no longer maintaining their firm round shape. Diego's bulge is legendary, but every legend eventually ends. You throw a body-weight punch into his crotch, followed by an uppercut, and another punch. Each blow eliciting an excited shriek from the crowd.

It's obvious what's going to happen if you keep it up. Diego's shorts are going to be flatter than his toned abs. His sack is on the brink of total collapse and the orbs feel absolutely squishy.  You step back to admire him one last time. He's really quite good looking and that flopping bulge oozes sex appeal, even in its damaged state. Not any more, you decide.

Your gloves are like pistons and you're pouring sweat as every ounce of energy goes into trimming Diego's family tree. His helpless testicles, flatten out under each blow, trying desperately not to burst open. But, like their owner, they eventually tucker out...

Your Invitation (Ball Busting Choose Your Own Adventure)

A few years ago I wrote 'The Fun House', a story about an otherwise ordinary middle-aged man named Larry who was presented with the opportunity to lay waste to sack after flattened sack in whatever manner his devious mind could devise.  That story serves as the establishing framework to this post, a choose your own adventure style ball busting story.

For those of you not familiar, a Choose Your Own Adventure (CYOA) story is like any other work of fiction, only at the end of each page, instead of simply turning to the next one, you pick which action/outcome you want to happen and in effect guiding the story as you wish.  

There are plenty of no-permanent-damage endings to this story (which is why it is tagged 'No Permanent Damage'), but if you want you can choose paths that end with varying degrees of testicular destruction.

This is probably the longest (in terms of sheer pages) and most complex (keeping track of all of the decision paths was a chore!) ball busting story I've ever attempted and your feedback is greatly appreciated!

Click the 'Start' button below to get started!



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The story is hosted on Google Drive.