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Friday, August 19, 2016

Day of the Nut Crackers

Day of the Nut Crackers
Based on an original story by Littledick

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A story of two boy studs captured unawares for the evenings entertainment and excitement for a large gathering. 

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Chad and I had lived together ever since fate first threw us together as dorm roommates our freshman year in college. We’re now seniors, and have been inseparable since that first day we met. 

People thought we were best friends because we were both college jocks and football stars, but no one knew the real reason for our close friendship. We had secretly been boyfriends since we came out to each other that first year in college, and every night since then we have made passionate love to one another. Both of us toped and bottomed each other in turn all the time, and we enjoyed plenty of rough sex together. The two of us were wildly popular on campus due to our handsome faces, awesome physiques, and fun-loving personalities, but few would have suspected that we were actually lovers, despite the fact that neither of us had ever been known to have girlfriends. 

Physically, Chad and I are so well matched that some people mistake us for brothers. And it’s not that our faces look all that much alike, but rather because we’re both so freakishly muscular and built. I’m 6’4” tall and weigh 320 pounds of pure college muscle, while Chad is slightly shorter at 6’3” tall and definitely beefier at just over 335 pounds. We were definitely the biggest men on campus, with hugely swollen pecs, massive shoulders, mighty guns measuring over 24” each, tight washboard abs, big muscular asses, and thick beefy legs. Chad has gorgeous brown eyes and sandy blond hair that bleaches nearly white during the football season. He also has thick chest hair in a slightly darker blond that runs in a sexy treasure trail down to the waistband of his shorts. My eyes are blue and my hair is a medium brown and wavy. I have a light dusting of chest hair, but am otherwise mostly smooth, which shows off my super defined body to great effect. 

We were even more perfectly matched when it came to the sexual endowment department, for we were both hung like fucking mules. Our eyes had wandered around locker rooms and wild frat parties enough to know that both our cocks and balls were unusually enormous, and we were understandably proud of our massive junk. Even when completely limp, my cock measured just over 9” in length, and when hard, it became a human flesh cannon measuring just over 14” in length and nearly 3” wide at its widest point along the shaft, truly as thick as a beer can and covered in a tracery of gnarled veins. Chad’s crotch rocket was nearly as long as mine at just over 13 ½” hard, but was even thicker, measuring every bit of 3 ½” thick along its entire length. Chad’s cock was built like a battering ram, and while may have it lacked some of the elegance of my mammoth cock, its sheer size and raw brutal power made it damn sexy nonetheless. 

And believe me, when you’ve been fucked by that colossal man tool, you know it! 

Our balls were equally as enormous as our cocks, for whatever twist of fate had blessed us both with such extraordinary genetics went into overdrive when it came to our humongous nuts. My proud baby makers were simply gigantic, each huge nut larger than the largest of lemons and bigger than ripe Georgia peaches. They hung extremely heavy and loose in my large, hairy scrotum. Such was their enormous weight that my nuts naturally hung a full 5” from my crotch! I frequently had to be careful when I was naked that I didn’t sit on my balls – I did that once, and 320 pounds of stud muscle bearing down on one’s own spunk nuts is a pain you don’t soon forget. Chad’s nuts were every bit as huge as mine, and were protected by an even hairier scrotum. Chad’s huge nuts didn’t hang as low as mine, however, and had a natural dangle of ‘only’ 3” despite their equally awesome weight. Both of our sets of balls were mighty sperm factories built for strength and endurance. We both blew unnaturally massive loads of cum, and we could go at it all night long...which we frequently did. 

But little did we know that our secret relationship had caught the attention of a nefarious organization that specialized in the abduction and destruction of powerful horse-hung males such as ourselves...

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The late September day started as any other. The two of us had just finished a particularly rough and rugged football practice, and were walking back to our apartment in our sweatpants and t-shirts, our hugely muscular bodies still covered in well-earned sweat from the gridiron. We were both extremely horny and turned on after spending hours tackling other muscle titans on the field, and we were going to go home and have sex, reveling in our manly odors before showering and having sex again. 

We were walking down a small back street when we both got attacked from behind by a group of at least four hooded men. Before we even knew what was happening, they shot  tasers at our muscular backs and necks and zapped us something good. I think they must have used two guns on each of us, maybe even three, completely stunning and paralyzing us both. We were then quickly gagged, blind folded, and hog tied, and then thrown into the back of a van and driven off. Our hearts were thundering in our massive chests, and we were terrified. 

The van seemed to drive around for hours before it finally stopped. I didn’t know where we were, but the air was cold as the back doors of the van were opened, and I could smell the ocean nearby. The wharf, perhaps? We were dragged into a large, echoing building and pushed into a stall of some sort that smelled of clean straw. I knew we were still together as I could hear Chad’s rapid breathing, but we could not communicate with each other because of the gags in our mouths. Still, I rolled over to him and pressed my big body against his, giving each other what little comfort we could with our touch. 

Some time passed before someone came in and removed our training shoes and then cut our sweats, jockstraps, and tops off. Then we had some sort of tube shoved up our asses, and in moments our beefy backsides were being filled with a warm fluid. I thought they were never going to stop filling me as I could feel them pushing something like a butt plug to keep all that fluid firmly in place. My guts became rock hard with the amount of what ever it was that was pumped into me. I can only assume that Chad was getting the same treatment. Once the fluid stopped entering us, the plugs were left in us and our stomachs began to cramp with the pressure of all that fluid. 

It was about a half an hour before the pressure was released from the butt plugs and the fluid shot out our asses like a fire hose. I could hear the stuff splashing out my butt onto the floor. I felt for sure that my entrails flew out of my beefy butt hole along with the fluid. 

Before I had a chance to get myself together, we were both being filled again. This time the cramps started sooner, and we were forced to hold it in again for about half an hour before we were relieved of the solution. The two of us were then hosed down with warm water and left to dry on the straw. 

A short while later, we were both dragged out without warning and untied so that we could stand up. Our legs were then tied loosely with our legs apart. Our arms were temporarily untied and then retied spread apart above our heads, pulling us up. Then our legs were spread till I thought I was going to split apart. The sounds of buzzing started and I could feel a big hand grab my huge balls and pull them firmly downward. My body must have been shaking in fear, as I was convinced that they were about to cut my big, beautiful nuts off! Instead, it turned out that the sound was from hair clippers, which they used to remove the hair from my balls and from my crotch. Once that was complete, shaving cream was lathered all over my pubic region, and a straight razor was used to remove the last stubble of hair from my balls and groin, leaving the area smooth as a baby’s skin. I could feel the cool air on my huge balls as never before, and I felt somehow even more helpless and powerless than ever. 

We had no idea why we were here or why we had been picked, and no one seemed inclined to tell us anything at this stage. Manacles were fitted to our legs before our arms were released and then they were tied behind us again. Some sort of leash was then fitted around our balls, and we were then dragged by our balls into another area. The room was clearly large, and even as we approached, we could hear the sounds of a loud crowd within. It was also brightly lit, which I could tell even through the cloth covering my eyes. Once we entered the room, a loud cheer went up, and we could hear many male voices issuing various catcalls and words of appraisal and approval. We were led to what sounded like the center of an arena, and then placed between two structures. Chains were connected to the manacles at our wrists and ankles so that we were completely secured and spread eagled between to two columns. 

Without warning, the hood was suddenly ripped off of my head, and I was momentarily blinded by the many bright lights. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that Chad was located across from me and similarly secured, with a look of terror on his achingly handsome face that must have matched mine. We were still gagged, so we couldn’t call out to one another, but our eyes said it all. 

We were clearly in some sort of large auditorium with bleachers surrounding the walls. However, only the center of the room where Chad and I were held prisoner was lit, so I could not make out the details of the surrounding crowd, but I could tell that they numbered in the hundreds, and from the sounds of their voices, I’m convinced that they were all men. 

Then someone spoke on a loud speaker, welcoming the crowd to tonight’s entertainment, and a huge cheer went up from the assembled men. Just as that was said I could feel someone putting something like rawhide around the top of my scrotum and without warning it was snapped closed and tied off with some tight knots in it. I jumped when the noose snapped closed around the neck of my huge nuts, just at the base of my balls, trapping my elephantine balls at the bottom of their sack. This left me to wonder what was to follow... 

“Gentlemen, you have computer pads in front of you,” the deep male voice said. “The computer screen will give you a selection of choices as to what happens next. Push the button that is associated with your choice, and the computer will then display the results on the screen. We will take the top three choices that receive the most votes. Then you pick one of the top three, and secondly the severity of the abuse, and once the votes have been tallied, the results will be carried out by two of our guests, selected at random.” 

“Here we go!” the voice said, as the computers threw up multiple options to the audience. The guy on the microphone said “Great choices! Now here’s the top three – please make you selection and include the severity.” A few moments later, “Fantastic! Okay, you have picked three kicks, harshness:  heavy, and with steel capped boots.”

Two numbers were then called, and two men came down from the crowd to don some very wicked looking steel capped boots. The men wore leather masks that hid their upper faces, but not so much that I couldn’t recognize them again. Their eyes, mouths, and jaws were fully visible, and they were stripped naked from the waist up. Both men appeared quite strong, and they took positions in front of Chad and I with looks of lustful anticipation in their evil eyes. 

The announcer started counting down – five, four, three, two, one. The man in front of me hauled his booted right foot back, and then with all of his might kicked forward, landing the toe of his boot directly into my unprotected nuts. I saw stars, and the agony was so intense that at first I couldn’t react. Before I could even make a noise, the man landed a second brutal kick, followed by the third. The same occurred to Chad, only he found his voice first and bellowed in agony. The place went wild at the sight and sound of our agony and torment. 

“Well, that gets the evening off to a good start! Who wants to hear these guys scream a bit more?” Again, cheers echo from the crowd. My battered nuts are screaming in agony, but for some reason my cock had begun to grow hard. I looked across at Chad, and saw that his thick horse cock has begun to do the same. 

“Good, let’s go for the next trick!” 

Again the screen showed six suggestions, which was narrowed down to three, and then to one. It was announced that steel buckets would be hung off our nuts and large stones would be dropped into it, one a minute for 10 minutes. Hooded attendants secured a thick metal cable around the base of our huge balls, noosing them so tight that I thought they would simply pinch our balls off. The end of the short cable was secured to a large, 5-gallon bucket, and without fanfare, the attendants let the bucket drop between our legs. Our balls quickly pulled up the slack and the bucket was yanked to a halt. Chad and I both yelped in pain, as the heavy buckets must have weighed a good 20 pounds all on their own. Then the attendants brought in a pair of wheelbarrows filled with stones of various sizes, from the size of tennis balls to bowling balls and beyond. My eyes grew wide with fear. 

Two audience members were selected to carry out the abuse. The man in front of me smirked as he looked over the rocks in the wheelbarrow, and he selected a rock nearly as large as my head to begin. He dropped the rock into the bucket with a loud ‘thunk’, and I bellowed in agony as the weight tore at my huge stud nuts. Chad and I both grunted as we tried to come to grips with the weight, and just was we were beginning to get used to it, a second weight was dropped into the bucket, causing us to cry out once more. And then a third weight, and then a fourth, and so on. My giant bull nuts were being stretched further and further from my crotch by the increasing weight, stretching from their normal 5” to 6”, then 7”. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. At the same time, my cock began growing harder and harder, cranking upwards and inflating with desire, until by the fifth or sixth stone, it had reached it’s full size of just over 14 eye-popping inches. Chad’s huge 13 ½ - inch cock had become similarly aroused, much to the very appreciative oohs and aahs of the crowd. 

Still the weights continued to be dumped into the buckets, until at last the 10th stone was dropped. My abuser picked one of the largest stones in the wheelbarrow, a rock the size of a basketball, and dropped it into my bucket, pretty much filling the bucket to the top. I screamed in agony, but somehow my nuts held, stretched now to a full 8” from my muscular, naked crotch. A moment later, the final stone was dropped into Chad’s bucket with similar results. 

But as Chad bellowed in agony, every muscle in his glorious body standing out in bold relief, his massive cock began to darken and quiver in a way that I knew all so well, and in another moment the first mighty wad of spunk erupted from its tip. Even I, who had become almost accustomed to the titanic loads that Chad could blow, was stunned by the force and volume of this orgasm, which rocketed forth from his pulsing cock like a series of liquid mortar shells. Gigantic ropes of cum blew in all directions, striking the assailant in front of Chad numerous times before he had the sense to duck out of the way. 

The awesome agony in my goliath bull nuts combined with the sight of Chad blasting out a phenomenal load soon put me over the edge as well, and I followed suit with a monstrous orgasm of my own, matching every bit the size and power of Chad’s mighty load. We blew our loads for a full minute, blasting out probably a score of wads apiece before the orgasms finally ebbed and stopped. The buckets still hung from our screaming nuts, swaying slightly with our movements. 

The crowd of men was awestruck by our extraordinarily virile, hyper masculine performance, and they were silent for many long moments after our huge loads were completely. Then they seemed to shake off their amazement as one and cheered like never before. 

“What a display, gentlemen!! Have you ever SEEN such loads, or such powerful bull balls!?! What a treat we have for you tonight! First, however, there is a penalty for cumming, and in this case it is the addition of another stone. Gentlemen, if you would do the honors…” 

Grinning, the two men on stage went back to the wheelbarrows and picked out a final stone for each of us. And somehow I knew it would the largest stone in the ‘barrow. My assailant lifted out what looked like a small boulder, using both of his strong arms to lift the huge stone. I already had something like 120 pounds of weight dragging at my agonized bull balls, more weight than I thought any man’s balls could take, and this last stone looked to weigh more than half of that. Instead of simply dropping the weight, the man lifted the weight high above his head, and threw it down into the bucket with all his might. My balls were immediately stretched another inch, and I screamed in awesome agony, but my balls miraculously held. I heard Chad scream bloody murder as well, but could see that his balls, too, had somehow survived. 

We were allowed to remain in that position for several long minutes, the weights tugging more and more on our brutalized balls, until finally the attendants released the cable from the bucket. The buckets crashed to the floor with a loud bang, dumping the rocks across the arena floor, while out huge balls ricocheted back toward our crotches, striking the base of our huge, rock-hard cocks with great force. We both cried out again in intense pain, and then breathed a sigh of relief that that particular torture was finally finished. 

I glanced down and saw that my balls were stretched down much farther than normal, to what looked like 6 or 6 ½ inches, while Chad’s dangle had increased from 3 inches to almost 5. I wondered if the stretch was permanent...and whether we would live long enough to find out. 

The crowd hushed as the screens cleared and the next suggestions appeared on them. Once again the guys were clicking away at their choices. Eventually it was announced and the announcer said, “Nice one guys! Balls to be secured to wooden tables, large ball paddles to be used to strike the bound nuts, 24 blows to each man, no breaks allowed, and brutality level – MERCILESS!!! In other words gentlemen, use your full fury! This will be good, and I am getting hard already in anticipation!” 

The structure we were tied to began to rotate us backwards until we were about 30 degrees from horizontal, and a heavy duty table was pushed under us. The attendants grasped our aching balls, secured a leather thong about the base of our nuts, and stretched them out over the table. With our balls resting flat on the table and as far from our crotches as the men could stretch them, the attendants tied off the other end of the thongs, leaving our nuts firmly secured to the table and completely immobile. 

God, my balls hurt, and I could feel a tremendous throb of pain from them with each beat of my heart. Shorn of their hair and stretched 8 agonizing inches from my body, my humongous balls looked more massive than even, positively obscene, and also intensely, terrifyingly vulnerable. 

Once we were secured, the MC spoke and asked for the opening bids on who would deliver this trick. There was much noise as the bidding process went on. In the end, two guys bid five thousand dollars each and were given instructions of what to do. They were told not to hit our balls with the round flats of the paddles but instead with the edges of the paddles, which were an inch thick and made from fire tempered hardwood. They were also told to go at it with all they were worth, for if seventy five percent or more of the crowd didn’t believe they did a good enough job, they would receive the same treatment themselves. Both men put their hands over their own crotches and grinned, making out to protect themselves as the announcer spoke. 

With that, the two guys approached us and claimed their paddles. My new assailant ran his fingers over my glistening torso, stroking my huge bull pecs and washboard abs with lust filled eyes before he mounted my chest. His back was to me so that he could face my bound and helpless bull nuts, and then the countdown commenced. Next thing I knew, I was bellowing at full volume as the heavy wooden paddle landed with great force into both of my nuts. Moments later, they received another devastating blow, and then another and another and another, as blow after violent blow rained down on my unprotected manhood. I didn’t think I could scream any louder as I felt my whole being smashed under me, but I did. 

My balls felt like they were being reduced to a jellied pulp, but the merciless beating continued. At the same time, I could feel a second orgasm begin to build in my brutalized and bashed nuts, and I was amazed at my body’s reaction to the pain. Chad and I both liked our sex rough, and we had bashed each other’s huge nuts many times before, but nothing compared to the force and brutality of these paddle blows! 

By the time the 18th blow landed on my nuts, my awesome virility simply could not take any more abuse, and I started blowing my second massive load of the night, pumping it out in great arching ropes that landed all over my assailant and my own rippled abdomen. As my mighty orgasm thundered from my loins, my attacker continued raining down the destructive beating of my baby makers, trying his best to annihilate both massive nuts. 

When the 24th blow finally landed, I was still pumping out my massive load, and my thick and sticky seed was strewn everywhere. I could see around my assailant’s body to where Chad lay, and saw that he, too, was blowing another mighty load. We continued grunting out our lush and abundant loads for another half minute or so, and by the time we were finally done, Chad and I were both heaving heavily in pain and exhaustion. Our enormous balls were an angry red and swelling from all of the abuse, but were miraculously still intact! 

The crowd seemed to be beside themselves after our second display of hyper masculine virility, and the announcer’s voice cut through over the din, saying, “Once again, the rules are clear that cumming is a punishable offense. In this case, when a man shoots, he is to receive six more blows of the paddle. If he shoots again, six more, and so on. Ready gentlemen?” 

The countdown started again, and soon a fresh set of blows were raining down on our huge nuts. I screamed in agony, but my rock hard cock betrayed me once again, for on the fifth blow, a third orgasm began to rip through my loins. This orgasm proved to be just as massive as the two that came before, and my attacker paused to let me shoot out the entire load. He then smiled, knowing that he had seven more blows to give me. My rider repositioned himself, and this time isolated just my huge left nut for abuse, lining it up so that he could deliver the maximum amount of pain and damage to just the one massive ball. When the blows began, I thought I would pass out from the pain, as it felt like my assailant was literally beating the stuffing out of my colossal nut. But on the last blow, my cock betrayed me once AGAIN and began shooting out huge slugs of cum from its bloated and distended tip! By this time I was coated in my own sticky man juice, and even I couldn’t believe how much of the stuff I had blown from my nuts in such a short period of time! 

I think I was openly sobbing by now, my horrifically battered balls already a seething hell of pain, and knowing that I would soon have to endure yet another six obliterating blows. I cursed my luck for having such heroically potent stud nuts, and prayed that they could endure the additional blows intact and without blowing yet another load. 

While the countdown began for yet another six blows to my rapidly swelling balls, I glanced over at Chad, and found that he had cum a third time, but mercifully not a fourth time, and so was allowed to rest while I received what I hoped would be the final six blows. This time, my attacker lined up my huge right ball and began striking it like he was driving a nail into the wall. I bellowed in renewed agony as the audience counted out each blow like a chant. On the sixth and final blow, I could have sworn that I felt my right ball explode, but fortunately I did not cum again, much to the howls and boos of the crowd. 

The announcer asked the crowd to vote whether the guys had done a good enough job beating our balls senseless. The answer came back in the affirmative, much to their relief. A small break was called as the house got itself back together after the most recent spectacle. 

My balls were bright red from all the abuse and starting to verge on purple, and were visibly swelling in their stretched sack. However, as the awesome pain decreased to a mere gut-wrenching throb, I could tell that both huge testicles were still astoundingly intact. Not only could I still feel the wholeness of both huge nuts, I could also see with my own eyes that they still maintained their healthy, egg-like shape. But I also knew that they had been greatly weakened under the terrible abuse, and I wondered how much longer they would survive. 

Once the crowd had settled once more, the announcer said that they were going to give us a chance to select our next trick. As the computer slowly ran through the unused tricks in its data base, the tricks were displayed on the crowd’s computers. Of course, Chad and I couldn’t see the computer screens, but a button was pressed into each of our hands, and whatever trick we landed on when we hit our buttons together would be the next torture. We would then press the buttons again to select the amount and the severity, much as the previous tricks had been selected. 

The crowd went wild as the computer stopped and highlighted the trick we had unknowingly selected. The amount number generator then started and stopped to the cheer of the crowd. Then the worst part of all, the severity generator started and the assembly went ballistic at the result. The announcer said, “Wow, these guys just love the pain, don’t they!! Three dozen clenched fists to the nuts, destructive force, NO HOLDS BARRED!!!” 

My massively muscular body just shook in fear as the MC said it, and then an auction began to choose who would deliver the punishment. “Come on guys,” said the announcer, “these two hot young college bulls are begging for the strongest and most muscular of you to make soup out of their massive boy balls!” The bidding was fast and furious and reached ten thousand dollars. Again the speaker reminded them that the crowd would vote on if the job was done right or not at the end of it. 

When the two winners stepped forward, I knew that Chad and I were in very serious trouble. Chad and I are both huge men with phenomenal, powerful physiques, they kind of massive, toned, and perfectly proportioned bodies that would make even super heavyweight bodybuilders jealous. But the two men who stepped from the shadows were so monstrously muscular as to make us look almost puny in comparison! Both men were several inches taller than us, and had to weigh more than 400 pounds apiece!! There was no question that both these freaks took steroids, and a lot of them – their faces were drawn, and their ‘roid guts were huge. But that did not detract from the fact that they each had gargantuan arms that defied belief. I estimated that their arms measured at least 26” if not 27” in size, making them by far the largest arms I had ever seen on a man. 

As luck would have it, my newest assailant was the larger of the two giants. He stepped toward me and with one humongous meaty hand, began to lightly fondle my swollen bull nuts. My balls were so beaten and bruised at this point that even this light touch caused me to cry out in pain. The giant began to fondle them more roughly, and even began slapping them around a bit, and he said to me, “Damn, boy, those are sure some huge nuts you have there! Biggest I’ve ever seen!! It’s gonna be a pleasure to mash your fuckin’ huge bull nuts into ground beef.” 

Our platforms were elevated so that we were close to vertical, and we were raised a couple of feet so that our crotches were more even with the attackers’ fists, allowing them to deliver their blows with maximum force into our unprotected and waiting nuts. Once everything was in place, the countdown began, and I said a silent prayer that I would pass out with the first blow. 

As the countdown ended, the assailants began pounding our nuts for all they were worth. The first blow landed so hard that I would not have been surprised if the man’s huge, ham-like fist had passed through both my nuts and the table itself! The pain was so intense that it knocked the wind from my body, and it wasn’t until the fourth or fifth blow that I could finally bellow like a wounded animal. I didn’t think my balls could survive TWO such blows, let alone 36, but I had no choice but to endure the horrific beating. I could hear Chad screaming as well, and I feared for my lover’s beautiful balls as much as my own. 

I was delirious with pain, but my incredibly tough and resilient body refused to let me pass out. I knew not what sounds were coming out of my throat by that point, but I have no doubt that they were inhuman. The man’s blows were so powerful that I could have sworn he was hitting the whole of my body at once with his massive fist. Cumming was certainly the last thing on my mind, but my raging 14-inch cock had a mind of its own and the fucker betrayed me yet again and to my absolute horror, blasting out not just one but TWO massive loads during the brutal ball beating. I didn’t know how such horrific torture could be sending my pleasure centers into overload, but the massive deluge of sperm rocketing from my throbbing cock was proof that it did. 

I could hear Chad groaning in agony, and saw that he, too, had blown two more huge loads, meaning we each had to endure 12 more blows. The attackers began a simultaneous barrage of left and right hooks into our defenseless nuts with a speed and force unlike anything that had come before, and before the assault was through, Chad and I had both blown yet another gargantuan wad, my seventh of the night, and Chad’s sixth! 

If it wasn’t for the circumstances we were in, I would have been very proud of our sexual performance that night, for neither of us had never before blown so much nut juice in such a short span of time. 

We had both earned six more blows, and so we steeled ourselves for the next attack. My balls already felt like jelly, and as the first new blow rained down on them, I realized that they had already been seriously weakened and damaged by all the abuse, and for all I knew had already been beaten into permanent sterility. The man’s huge fist sank deep into my ball flesh with each strike, coming very close to making contact with the wood on the other side of my balls and crushing them nearly flat. In their weakened state, I doubted my balls could endure five more such blows, but I gathered my resolve and continued to endure. 

Two! 

Three! 

My balls felt like they could burst at any moment. 

Four! 

Five! 

They were on the brink of destruction. 

Six! 

The last blow landed with devastating force into both my nuts, squishing them completely flat, but with their last ounce of strength, they had survived. I knew for certain that one more such blow would have obliterated my nuts forever, so I was very thankful that I had not cum. 

But to my horror, as the last blow was delivered to Chad’s similarly weakened nuts, he let out a great howl and unloaded with his seventh massive load of the evening, blowing yet more massive ropes of thick white man cream all over himself and his assailant. I could see the panic in Chad’s eyes, for he also knew that his balls couldn’t handle any more abuse. 

The crowd was in a frenzy now, cheering so loudly that I could barely hear the countdown begin. My assailant stood out of the way to give me a clear view of Chad’s attacker. The huge man turned around so that his back was to Chad and he was facing me. We locked eyes, and he grinned maliciously. And as the countdown reached zero, he released an elbow smash directly into Chad’s nearly broken nuts. Chad screamed uncontrollably, his handsome head shaking from side to side and his huge, muscular body spasming on the table. A second brutal elbow smash, and then a third were planted deep into Chad’s crumbling ball meat. I was screaming against my ball gag for them to stop, and tears were streaming down my cheeks. A fourth smash, and a fifth, each blow doing unknown damage to my lover’s gorgeous bull balls. Finally, the sixth smash, and it was done. Chad screamed one last time, and then went limp in his restraints, mercifully unconscious at last. A small amount of cum burped from the tip of his still raging cock, but he did not cum. 

Chad’s balls were so massively swollen by this time that I couldn’t tell if either of his twin orbs were still intact. One of the attendants came forward and began to examine the hugely distended ball bag, kneading and squeezing the contents to determine if either of his balls had survived. The attendant stood up and smiled for several moments out into the audience before saying, “I am happy to announce that both of the young man’s huge testicles are completely…INTACT!!!” 

I almost wept with relief, while the crowd booed its disapproval. The judgment on the punishment soon followed, and while my guy passed the test, Chad’s assailant did not, no doubt for failing to rupture Chad’s nearly busted balls during his final rain of blows. The failed guy was grabbed and stripped and tied up spread eagled, and the MC announced that my assailant was to give 10 strong kicks to the man’s balls as punishment, and for the pleasure of all gathered. 

The two men clearly knew each other, and my assailant smiled as the punishment was announced. My attacker grabbed the bound man’s balls in his huge hand. I noticed that the man had some truly huge balls, nothing approaching the size of the monster nuts possessed by Chad and I, but huge balls that any man would have been very proud of. His big dick had also grown hard, as if it was eagerly awaiting the punishment that was to come. 

The attacker gave the huge balls a crushing squeeze, and then hauled off and began stomping his heavy boot directly into the man’s defenseless nuts. The huge man bellowed in pain, every gargantuan muscle in his body standing out in extraordinarily deep relief as he pulled fruitlessly against his bonds. Kick after devastating kick was delivered into those big balls, and on the final stomp, I could actually hear the sickening SQUICK!! sound as one of the man’s huge balls burst under the tremendous abuse. At the same moment, the bound man screamed as his cock coughed up his big load. Again, his load was nothing like our super human salvos, but it was still huge and bigger than what probably any other man in that room could produce. And it would no doubt be his last load of such enormous size, for with one of his huge gonads destroyed and the other brutally traumatized, he would be shooting far less seed in the future. 

The assailant grabbed the man’s screaming nuts in both hands, squeezing and grinding them to get all the juices out of them while he passionately kissed the bound man. I could see that the man’s left nut was still whole and intact, but his right ball was completely shattered. The assailant’s fist met no resistance as it squeezed the right side of the man’s sac, his fingers easily digging through the mushy remains like it was a sack full of lumpy oatmeal. The bound man screamed into the other man’s mouth and his gargantuan muscles shook and strained against their restraints, but he was otherwise powerless to stop the mauling of his half ruined ballsac. 

The crowd applauded after the scene finished, and both men were released back to their seats, the recently half-castrated man walking with a pronounced limp. The MC’s attention then returned to us and he said, “Come on fellahs! The night is still young and we have four VERY swollen bull balls to finish off yet!” With that they got things going again. The announcer asked the spectators to check their seat numbers. He then got one of the guys on stage to draw two disks out of a container. The attendant called out numbers 48 and 88. Two very excited guys came down on to the stage. 

“Your task,” explained the announcer, “is to light those two candles and to hold them five or six inches above these men’s packages and coat them totally in candle wax. You’re not finished until their huge cocks and swollen balls are totally covered.” 

They wasted no time lighting the candles and getting into position. Then a torrent of hot melted wax began to drip down onto our cocks and balls. Each drip caused more pain as it hit our tender, bruised, and battered genitals. The wax stung and burned as it hit my dick head. The pain as my guy poured the boiling wax over my balls was something else. My voice just made a gurgling sound after all the previous screaming, and all I could do was thrash my handsome head around uttering only more silly sounds. There was a loud laugh from the audience as a drop of wax sizzled as it hit a wet spot on the tip of my cock, and that caused my whole body to contort. Once they had covered all the genital skin they could cover, the waxing stopped. 

The two guys were told that their job wasn’t over yet. They were handed two small whips with five tails on each. Then it was announced that they had to whip all the wax off and that the judge would raise a hand once each set of cock and balls was denuded of wax. The last guy to finish would have to lie on a table and have his cock and balls covered in wax by the other. Two of the crew came over as judges and the countdown began. When it hit zero, a fury of blows began to rain down on our packages. They were going hell for leather as neither of them wanted to receive a waxing themselves. Our bodies contorted and bounced at the stinging tails of the whips as they shattered and pulled the wax off our bruised and beaten genitals. 

Before we realized it, a shout went up and the guy doing Chad had finished as my guy got the last of the wax off me. He was grabbed straight away and stripped before being strapped to a table himself. They lay his cock over one leg and his extremely floppy balls over the other. A new candle was lit and the guy got to work pouring hot melted wax over the significant and ample genitals that lay before him. Unlike Chad and I, this poor guy did not get hard, and it wasn’t long before the fellow receiving the wax was screaming his head off. Once everything was covered, the guy was untied and had to pull his pants on. 

The computer did its work and we were made ready before being told what was going to happen to increase the element of surprise. Two guys dressed only in chaps, boots, and wide brimmed hats were brought in carrying neatly rolled up stock whips. The MC set the computer going to determine the number of strokes we were to receive. Everyone was willing the computer for a high number, while Chad and I just prayed for the torment to end. The computer screen went blue and then displayed fifteen, the gathered throng booed, as they really wanted a lot more than fifteen. All we eventually heard was fifteen, but fifteen of what! 

The two cowboys then lined up their targets, our crotches. The first thing I heard was a whistling sound shortly followed by a loud crack of the whip snapping across my cock shaft, raising a large, angry welt in its path. The whole of my being flashed before my eyes and every muscle of my body contorted in one motion. A gargled animal scream emanated from my mouth. I had never heard a sound like it before or since. 

Sweat was pouring of my cruelly treated body as I heard a crack break over Chad’s body, but I only heard a small sound from him as the group of on lookers watched on in glee. My cowboy was lining me up for the next stroke of the whip to show his skillfulness. I didn’t have to wait long as the whistle of the whip could be heard as it flew through the air and snapped once more. His whip cracked sharply as it came across the base of my cock shaft and wrapped its tentacles around my unprotected balls. From nowhere came a non-human sound from deep within me as my body went stiff as a board and then shook violently. As the guy pulled the whip back he tried to rip my balls off with it. A large bright red and raised welt developed across my nut sack and I thought my whole life had exploded within me. 

I don’t remember much else of the rest of the whipping. I thought it would be impossible to feel or experience more pain that had already been dished out, but how wrong I was. By the end of the torment, my proud cock, my crowning glory, felt like it had been laid open and torn to ribbons. The thick shaft and massive head were covered in angry welts, yet the traitorous cock STILL refused to go soft! My balls were also covered in angry red welts, and were now hanging a good 8” from my crotch after all the brutal tugging and pulling. 

I prayed for the torments to stop, yet the end was still a long way off. The pain in my balls and cock had consumed my whole being. The noise in the auditorium got louder as the cowboys returned to their seats, and they eagerly awaited the next portion of the show. 

The MC announced that everyone should get their wallets and checkbooks out, for it was time for the final punishment of the evening. “Who is going to go home with the ultimate prize? Who is going to claim one of these sets of brutally oversized bull balls as the ultimate trophy? These two massively built young lads have demonstrated unprecedented strength, resilience, and virility, so let’s honor them with some high-stakes bidding. Who will open bidding on the final punishment?” 

By this stage of our suffering, the words made no sense to Chad and me whatsoever. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what the words meant. But apparently the bidding started high and went even higher. The bidding reached one hundred thousand dollars and was still climbing; I couldn’t imagine why the figure got to that height at this stage – talk about dumb innocence. It was then it began to dawn on me that my cock and balls might be in mortal peril. The bidding for me stopped at over two hundred thousand dollars, and at nearly the same for Chad. The two winners were ushered onto the stage to pay their donations and to receive their prizes -- us! 

One of the men approached me, and I could feel his hands on my ultra sore and abused goodies, massaging and kneading them with his hands, and stroking my huge cock with his fist. He seemed to really enjoy fondling my meat and potatoes, and I wouldn’t have minded so much if it weren’t for the fact that even the slightest touch at this point caused me great pain. 

When my “winner” was finally through inspecting me, Chad and I were prepared for the final ordeal. A pair of thick cables was lowered from the darkness above, and they were once again noosed and cinched around the base of our screaming bull balls. Our platforms were set to pivot, and as the cables started being drawn again up toward the ceiling, our platforms pivoted backwards by the tugging on our balls. Once our bodies were slightly below horizontal, the cable stopped moving. Chad and I were both arching our muscular young bodies as much as we could to relieve the tension on our balls as they were stretched toward the ceiling. The countdown began again, and I trembled in terror with the uncertainty of what would happen next. 

At the bottom of the countdown, I could hear a series of sharp metal snaps, and then my body began to fall. In an instant, I realized that the apparatus had left me go, and that the entirety of my own massively muscular weight was now being supported solely by my nuts! But it turned out that it wasn’t only my own weight I was carrying, for each of the manacles was also attached to a 50 pound weight. So my own 320 pounds of muscle PLUS another 200 pounds of steel were now being supported by nothing more than my beefy stud nuts! 

My muscular body began to jerk involuntarily at the unimaginable pain ripping through my screaming nuts. I screamed then, a scream I hope never to repeat in my life. I fully expected my nuts to tear off my body right there and then, but somehow they didn’t. Despite all logic and reason, they somehow endured, though they were being drawn steadily farther from my body minute by minute as my weight continued to pull mercilessly on them. 

Eight inches had quickly become 8 ½”, then slowly increased to 9”. I thought I was going to die, and I was certain that I could hear things tearing within my grotesquely distended nut sack. 9 ½”, 10”. The skin of my scrotum was perilously thin, and the two huge lumps of my swollen bull balls could be seen clearly through the almost glass-like skin. 10 ½”. My balls looked like they were trying to get out of the bottom of their sack, and the neck of the scrotum itself was ridiculously thin, showing clearly the mighty cords and life-giving veins that are even now fighting a losing struggle to keep my gigantic stud nuts connected to me. 11”. 

Without warning, the remarkable happens. Consumed by pain, my cock suddenly finds its eighth orgasm, and this one proves to be the most massive of the whole night. I can only quiver noiselessly in my bonds as bolt after humongous scorching bolt of cum blasts out of my cock to the uncaring ground below. I hear a second set of gasps from the crowd, and I know that Chad is blowing out his eighth load at that moment as well. In some distant part of my mind, I am very proud of us both for showing these evil captors what real men we were right up to the very end. 

Even as my greatest orgasm ever thundered onward, my huge balls continued to slip, and I knew it would be a race against time to see if I could finish my orgasm before my balls were unceremoniously ripped from me. 11 ½”, 12”. My colossal bull balls, the seat of my overwhelming masculinity and power, have been stretched to a full FOOT by more than 500 pounds of muscle and steel!! 

At that same moment, I feel the cold edge of a knife blade being placed against my impossibly stretched scrotum. I look up into the menacing eyes of my attacker, my “winner”, and I see the death of my beautiful balls reflected there. I grunt and keep pumping out my goo with wild abandon, waiting for the moment when one mere flick of the knife will end my awesome manhood forever. I shut my eyes tightly and wait for the searing pain.  

Just then, there is the sound of the crash of several doors, and the lights come up all over the auditorium. A voice on a bull horn announces that the police have arrived, and for everyone to freeze! The cavalry had arrived!! But did they arrived in time to save Chad’s and my huge balls? 

The answer to that question came sooner than I had anticipated. The man holding the knife to my balls glanced at the dozens of cops streaming into the room, and then back at me, and I saw him make up his mind. Everything moved in slow motion. I screamed “NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” as I saw him prepare to rip the knife through my stretched sack like a stick of butter. 

Then there was a sound of thunder, and a small hole suddenly opened in the front of the man’s forehead, followed shortly by a river of blood. The evil smile was still plastered on his dead face, and the man dropped the knife and fell forward…directly onto my body! 

I screamed anew as the man’s 200+ pounds of dead weight added to the over 500 pounds already tearing at my massive nuts. My magnificent bull balls, those fist-sized lumps of pure masculine power, were immediately yanked to an unbelievable 14 inches -- the same length as my own colossally oversized horse cock!! -- where they quivered on the ends of their heroically straining fleshy tethers. My mighty stud nuts were about to be torn free, and there was no way anyone could get to me in time to save my glorious balls from their utter destruction! 

I can’t explain what happened next. Maybe it was the added weight of the dead man across my massively muscular torso. Maybe it was the vibrations from my almighty orgasm still raging through my cock. Or maybe it was simply the fact that there’s only so much any cord could take. Regardless, when my supremely overstretched scrotum reached its ultimate limit at 14 ½”, it snapped. Not my scrotum, but the steel cable noosed around my balls! With an sharp SNAP!!, my balls were suddenly released from captivity, and my body crashed to the ground with a very beefy SMACK!! My gigantic orgasm, which had yet to cease, erupted with even greater force as my huge balls slammed back into my crotch. The pain was overwhelming, and I had a moment to see that Chad was being rescued by the police, his balls freed from their constricting cable, before I finally passed out…  

**************

When I awoke, I was in a hospital, and my beautiful Chad was at my side, holding my hand. I feared the worst for both of us in those first few moments, but the relief in his beautiful brown eyes when I awoke told me that everything was okay. 

We had indeed survived an evening of tortures that should have destroyed our balls a dozen times over. The police had no way of explaining it, but just told us we were damn lucky to be alive and intact. The doctors kept us both in the hospital for several days to run tests on us, but by the second day the swelling in our balls had disappeared, along with the worst of the bruising and welts. Our balls were indeed – miraculously – intact, and further tests proved that not only were we not rendered sterile by the abuse, but that our sperm count was off the charts. 

But I could have told you that…  

The only lasting physical change from the whole event is that both of our scrotums are now exceedingly low hanging. Chad’s balls now hang at an awesome 6 ½” from his crotch, while mine hang an astounding 8 full inches. The look is intensely erotic and masculine, and well worth the hassle of occasionally crushing my huge nuts between my muscular thighs, and having to hang them over one of my beefy legs when I have to sit down at the toilet. If I don’t, those huge bruisers will just hang down into the toilet water. Blech! :) 

It turned out that the secret society that had accosted us had claimed dozens of victims over the years before we came along. Many a well hung young man across the world had had his cock and/or balls removed by this roving society of torturers and sadists. A number of governments had been working together to try to track down this evil and slippery organization for years, and they had finally succeeded just in time to rescue us. 

The good news was that they had caught several hundred men in the arena, men of great wealth and power from all over the world. All of the men captured were charged with deadly assault and international war crimes, and were all sentenced to life terms in prison. All of them were powerful and influential men, including corporate moguls, high government officials, and even members of several Middle Eastern royal families. But  when the video tape recordings of our abuse and the torture and castration of previous victims were shown in the courtroom, there was not one juror sympathetic to the men who had been in that audience. Chad and I also testified in the international tribunal and were able to identify the various men who had attacked us during the various trails, and they received multiple life sentences. None of these wicked men would ever be free to inflict harm upon another innocent man again. 

Speaking of videos, a copy of Chad’s and my torture was somehow leaked to the media, and it has wound up on the internet. By now, millions of people all over the world have watched Chad and me get tortured to within a hairsbreadth of losing our awesome manhoods, and strangely, that has made us celebrities. We can’t go anywhere without being recognized, and women and men alike are always throwing themselves at us. Many video viewers believe that the tape has been altered in some way, and that the events they are seeing did not really happen. I understand, and I find it hard to believe myself, but it was all true. 

We’ve both been offered huge sums of money to make porn videos, both together and separately. Some offers want us to beat each other’s huge nuts into submission, while others just want to see us blow one monumental load after another after another after another in one unbroken sequence. The money being offered is amazing, so we’re seriously thinking about it, and may yet decide to take up one or more of those offers. 

In the meantime, with the many millions we received as damages from our time of torture and abuse, Chad and I have purchased a beautiful home in the remote hills together. We still make love every day and every night, and now have added a lot more ball abuse -- punches and tugs and kicks -- to our nightly repertoire. We are blissfully happy together. 

Only one thought continues to trouble us. The MC at our torture session, the man was recognized by all the men present to be the ringleader of the secret society, was never captured. No one knows his name, where he’s from, or even what he looks like, and it appears that he wasn’t even in the warehouse that night, but was instead transmitting remotely from another nearby location. With that madman on the lose, neither of us rests completely easy, and we fear that someday he will seek us out and finish what he started. 


So just remember when you walk down a dark street at night to be extra careful and vigilant, or you could be the next scheduled entertainment for a brutal and sadistic madman. 

Friday, August 12, 2016

Feats of Manhood

Feats of Manhood
Based on an original story by BrianWM

********

The title of the exhibit was as simple as it was enigmatic -- "Feats of Manhood". I slipped into a seat towards the back of the small auditorium and waited for the show to begin. Looking around, I noted that the audience was exclusively male, and everyone was waiting expectantly. An odd assortment of props was on the stage: a huge 60's era Cadillac convertible, a school bus, numerous large metal drums, and some weights.

Soon the curtain in the middle of the stage opened and an enormous, fully dressed figure stepped out. He was very tall by any standards, approximately 6’6”, and he appeared, if anything, to be extremely obese. He was dressed in an oversized sweat shirt with long loose sleeves that ballooned over a bulky torso. The initials "MM" were stenciled on the front. His lower half was encased in baggy sweat pants. 

"What a slob," I thought to myself as I prepared to leave. 

What compelled me to remain was the only part of his body that was visible: a disproportionately thick neck, swelling out from his shirt making his head look almost tiny, stretching the fabric around the collar to the breaking point. The muscles on each side of his head were so thick they protruded out beyond his ears. "His collar size must be 30 inches!" I mused. Talk about a bull neck! I had never seen anything remotely like it in my life! 

The huge figure had his head down, so I couldn’t see his face. His thick dark blonde hair was cropped relatively short. When he lifted his head, I thought I would pass out. The man was absolutely gorgeous! Though obviously young, there was nothing boyish about this face. He was as stunning as they come, with a powerful chin, strong jaw, high cheekbones, sensual lips, and piercing, soulful, cornflower blue eyes. Although shaven, he had noticeable blond stubble, making him look even more rugged, and almost brutish in an intensely beautiful, overwhelmingly masculine sort of way. 

Hell, at this point I didn’t care if this young man was obese -- I could stare at that almost painfully handsome face all day! 

The audience murmured and shifted in anticipation. The young man on stage grinned impishly and, his massive hand reaching up to his shirt collar, he started tearing it slowly downward with a heavy tearing sound. 

What emerged made me and the rest of the audience gasp. 

Gruesomely huge pectoral muscles leaped out, mounted on an enormous ribcage and sporting large red-purple tits. The awesome width of his mammoth pecs was matched only by their colossal thickness. He continued ripping the shirt downward, revealing not the expected distended, flabby belly of an overweight man, but an incredibly tight, ripped abdomen with a perfect 8-pack of corrugated muscles. 

My painfully hard cock was like an iron crowbar in my pants, threatening to tear through my jeans, but I hardly noticed, so focused was I on the glorious muscle god slowly revealing himself before my mesmerized eyes. 

He shrugged off the tattered remains of the sweat shirt, and only then did the sheer magnitude of his arms become apparent. Enormous biceps ballooned from all angles of his upper arm, and his forearms were bulging hams, already glistening with sweat. The young stud made a double biceps pose, and as his arms swelled majestically, and I guessed that those amazing guns must have been at least 32 inches in circumference! That was the size of my own waist!! At the same time, his lats flared wide like barn doors, shoving his arms out and back, and revealing the incredible taper down to his amazingly tight waist. He held the pose for many long moments, just flexing his gargantuan guns to the max and allowing the crowd to see and appreciate his awesome torso. 

The muscle monster grinned, struck another bicep pose, and started inflating his arm meat in short successive pumps. Gasps arose as the peak of his bicep rose and swelled in bursts, growing to even greater dimensions. He then strutted over to a set of huge dumbbells, each loaded with 250 pounds, and started effortlessly curling the heavy weights. His biceps continued swelling, with cruel looking veins as thick as fingers appearing, encircling the swollen peaks. 

He threw the dumbbells aside and swaggered over to the Cadillac. The audience murmured as they realized what he intended. He stooped, grasped underneath the enormous car with both hands to find a grip, straightened up...and started curling the car! Up and down. up and down, up and down. Five, ten, twenty reps...his arms exploding with rippling, throbbing, pulsating movement as his arm meat feasted on the chunk of metal. His arms, now pumped to the max, were as hard as concrete and had to be at least 35 or 36 inches in circumference! That was about 10 whole inches bigger than the biggest biceps I had ever seen!! The man was a muscle GOD!! 

I glanced at the men around me and noticed that a few had their hand on their crotches, squeezing and rubbing their hard dicks in appreciation of the awesome spectacle. The muscle man on stage threw down the car with a resounding crash and struck another double bicep pose. The peaks of his biceps now reached the palms of his hand, completely filling the space within his flexed arm. He grunted like an animal, beads of sweat appearing on his glorious and majestic upper body.

Then he pulled out a thick link chain. He casually wrapped it around his neck and padlocked it tightly at the front under his chin. The metal dug into his flesh and his face and neck started turning a dark purple-red as the blood flow was constricted. He paused for several seconds as his face grew darker and darker from the engorged blood. Then suddenly he flexed his neck, straining against the metal links, and the chain broke, fragments flying in every direction. The audience roared. 

To pump his pecs, the giant got on his back and slid under the Caddy. The car lifted up slowly as he started bench pressing it. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Twenty reps. Then with a loud roar he flung it up and off to the back of the stage where it toppled over on its side. The man, now a monster bursting with engorged muscles, rose to his feet and flexed his chest toward the audience. The pecs had metamorphosed into huge slabs of throbbing man meat, completely filling the space between his bent flexed arms. The pecs stood 8 or 9 inches thick off his colossal ribcage, rising on each side of his chin. His cleavage could envelop your entire erect cock! Hell it could swallow half a dozen cocks! (Which, indeed, I now fantasized about, sliding my hard dick up and down between his huge, hot, sweaty pecs.) As if reading my mind, this testosterone-drunk stud picked up a 45 pound plate, slid it between his mountainous pec meat, and flexed again. The plate held, suspended between his rock hard pecs! 

Up until now, the behemoth brute had kept his sweatpants on. Large patches of sweat had appeared around his crotch during his physical feats, and I longed to see what he was concealing beneath that damp, baggy cloth. He reached down and loosened the drawstring. The significant bulge in front kept the pants from sliding down until he yanked them off, stepped out of them, and kicked them aside. 

Another gasp from the crowd arose, and two men fainted dead away. 

The impact of his gruesome, gargantuan thighs packed with enormous slabs of muscle was almost lost as we took in the visual impact of the inhuman mass mounted between them. Under his sweatpants were black posing trunks, stretched tightly over his round, insanely muscular butt and straining to envelope a set of male sex equipment the size and weight of a bowling ball, drooping down halfway to his knees. He turned sideways and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, proudly displaying his colossal package of manhood. More cries of lust burst from the whacked-out audience. The side view of his pecs was awesome: the tight pumped chest muscles were like hard rubber jutting up and out, so solid they hardly moved as he bounced his heroic, lycra-encased endowment.

As this muscular beast had bit by bit revealed his unbelievable body parts, I continued to estimate his massive measurements -- neck 30 inches, shoulder girth 48 inches (yes, that’s four whole FEET wide!), chest 75 inches, biceps (cold) 32 inches, biceps (pumped) 36 inches, waist 36 inches (the size of his waist was influenced by the sheer thickness of the muscles of his lower back, so that from the front he looked even more slender than 36 inches). My senses were already reeling as I now absorbed his lower build. His thighs must be in excess of 40 inches cold, deeply striated, so heavily packed with muscle that it seemed to sag around his knees. Shit! Thighs so much thicker than his waist were mind-numbing! His monstrous calves looked like a pair of footballs, only much, much bigger. I reasoned that the "MM" on his ill-fated sweat shirt must mean Muscle Man, Monster Male, Muscle Monster, or some such combination. I guessed that this destroyer must weigh well over 400 pounds! That’s more than 100 pounds heavier than the biggest super heavyweight bodybuilder!! God only knew the dimensions of the cruel-looking equipment between his legs! 

Then as he stood there he started flexing his legs, squeezing the blood into those hypertrophic slabs. The already unbelievable mass of his tree-trunk thighs started growing and thickening before our eyes as he continued squeezing his leg beef. The slabs of muscle grew outward and lifted upward until they had nowhere to go, reaching 46 inches in girth. The guy was so packed he could not keep his legs together; instead, he had to straddle them outward, his feet almost a yard apart. 

He turned sideways again. His man meat, still tenuously encased in the stretched, straining fabric of his jock sling, was lifted high by the swelling of his thighs. The monster stud grinned at the audience and jerked his crotch upward in a series of seductive thrusts. The obviously heavy, sperm-packed balls bounced off his tight thighs. Several men, who by now had their cocks out of their pants and were desperately whacking off, lost their load at this incredible sight. I felt my own pre-cum wet against my skin.

But the show didn't end there! No, not by a long shot! 

The muscle master, by now totally pumped to superhuman size and girth, swaggered over to the row of metal drums, lying on their side. He straddled the first one with his massive thighs and squeezed. The metal drum groaned, deformed, and collapsed like cardboard! 

A squirt of something hot and sticky hit me on the back of the neck as the guy behind me shot his load, muttering "Fuck, oh bloody fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" Others came too, and one could see streams of man-juice leaping into the air from the sensory-overloaded men, who were groaning and yelling at the spectacle. 

The human trash compactor on stage mounted each metal drum in turn and one by one they were reduced to pathetic piles of crumpled tin foil. The last one he lifted and held it between the palms of his hands parallel to his chest. Suddenly contracting his mighty pec muscles he squeezed, and within seconds the drum was flattened to just a few inches thick. Roars rose from the crowd.

The floor of the small auditorium was becoming slippery with the quarts of cum shot from the male audience members, wild with desire. A group of men had congregated towards the front, reaching on-stage in worship of the incredible muscle man, begging him to take them, fuck them, piss on them, degrade them, anything. Some were drooling, others had fainted. 

One more feat of manhood awaited. The school bus. 

None of us in our wildest dreams could envision what was about to happen. 

The Muscle God, now sweating and pulsing with distended veins and pumped body parts, parading his male ego like the stud he was, strode aggressively up to the bus as if he were going to fuck it into oblivion. He climbed on top of the vehicle and straddled it with his legs, anchoring his heels on the ridge line of the roof. Gasps of disbelief arose as his intent became clear. Like a demolition machine, this arrogant muscle beast was going to crush the huge vehicle between his legs.

He took a huge deep breath, his enormous rib cage expanding to an even more colossal size, and started squeezing. His beautiful face and neck slowly became blotchy and purple at the enormous exertion. Cords of muscle and tendons rose in his neck as he flexed his mountainous thighs. His entire body quivered as he focused his strength on the metallic destruction between his legs. His straining neck was now a behemoth column of purple, pulsating distended flesh. The leg muscles grew, convulsed, and strained. For a while nothing happened. He groaned, sweat streaming over his convulsing body in this improbable battle of monster muscle versus manmade object. His legs made jerking movements as they strained against the stubborn sheet metal. 

Then a sound was heard -- a whining screech of fatigued metal slowly increasing in intensity. The audience waited, breathless. The Muscle God was bellowing in deep-voiced agony as his muscles ached and strained. Then a crash was heard as the windshield of the bus imploded. The cabin of the bus was being crushed! Crash after crash was heard as each side window succumbed to the deformation. More and more men ejaculated high into the air as their torqued male frenzy escalated. The Muscle God continued squeezing and screaming and sweating.

Another visible change was occurring. The massive man-bulge mounted between the legs of the Stallion was convulsing and growing. The blood that was rushing to his straining thighs was also pouring into his enormous sex tools. A monstrous shaft the thickness of his massive forearms started lifting up, straining the already weakened fabric of his skimpy posing trunks. The heavy, melon-sized balls were pulsing and swelling, pumping out superhuman quantities of testosterone as they prepared to discharge their load. 

Finally and with a loud snap, the black posing trunks exploded from the overwhelming volume of his equipment, releasing his awesome cock and thunderous balls. Several in the audience screamed. The dark purple head of the superhuman man pole was enormous, larger than a huge fist - no human orifice could hope to accommodate its bulk. The thickly veined shaft continued expanding until the cock head was level with his monstrous pecs, and began throbbing with the stud’s mighty heartbeat. The muscle stud’s balls were truly legendary, the size of ripe cantaloupes, and so heavy that they hung down at least three inches, resting on the crumpling surface of the school bus. As his prick swayed back and forth during his continuing exertion, pre-cum from his sperm factory was smeared across his chest, leaving wide slimy trails of clear glistening fluid.

With a load crash, the top of the school bus finally surrendered to the muscular persuasion of this determined Superman. With a final roar of agony and triumph, his thighs slammed together, crumpling the sheet metal between his knees and crushing it against his mammoth balls, brutally mashing the weighty man fruits and trapping them in the twisted metal. Simultaneously, the slit of his swollen throbbing cock head dilated, and an incredibly thick bolt of man juice shot forth, slapping the ceiling of the auditorium with a gigantic glob of sperm. As he continued compressing the rubble between his beastly thighs, slug after pulsing slug erupted from the amazing reservoir of this superhuman fuck factory, each mighty wad larger than what a normal man could produce in a month. The hyper masculine orgasm seemed never ending, and soon the stage was awash in sticky, milky cum, enough man seed to repopulate the planet ten times over. 

I might have blacked out momentarily at this incredible spectacle. My mind was reeling from this incredible display of hyper muscularity. My unbelieving eyes feasted on a 14 or 15-inch man tool, and titanic balls larger than coconuts. What would it be like to have sex with this God, to have those mighty thighs and arms wrapped around you? Would his fist-sized cock head break your jaw? Would one strangle from the onslaught of cum pumping down your throat and into your stomach from those enormous testicles? How would it feel being impaled on that thick pole? Would it tear a person apart? 

The Muscle God jumped down from the crushed bus, thick wads of cum still belching from his rock-hard fuck pole. With a final act of contempt toward the crippled object, he swaggered over to the door of the vehicle and, with bare hands and barely an effort, ripped it off its hinges. The audience was now gasping on complete overload. He held the sides of the door between the palms of his hands like an accordion and squeezed. The door immediately crumpled into debris, and simultaneously, another thick glob of cum shot from his still-throbbing manhood. He tossed the scrap metal aside. 

Finally, triumphantly strutting out to the edge of the stage, this untiring Sex Stud starting to beat his meat out toward the audience. His shaft was so incredibly thick that he used both hands in unison, stroking up and down, his massive arm and chest muscles bulging heroically with each stroke. Despite the huge volume of cum already expelled, his elephant bull balls rose to the occasion once again. He flexed every muscle in his body, his chest expanded, his diaphragm rose, his abdomen hardened, and with a yelp of pleasure and triumph, the slit of his inhumanly huge prick head opened wide, and a thick stream of hot milky liquid shot out over the eager audience. For several long minutes, jet after jet bathed the men's faces, drenching the audience in buckets of white-hot cum, shooting with such force that it nearly reached the back rows of the auditorium. 

Then he was gone and the show was over.

With a final shudder of physical sensation, I stood up on shaky legs and prepared to leave, noticing for the first time that my cock had spontaneously shot a huge messy load into my jeans. I quickly realized, however, that no one else in the audience was moving toward the door. The man next to me, bathed in sweat and stud cum, was wiping his face and stuffing his now-flaccid dick into his pants. I asked him why no one was leaving. 


"The next show starts in 15 minutes," he replied. "The guy is a 19-year-old college student, and is working his way through school by performing here every weeknight and most weekends. He does a variety of shows, usually performing 5 or 6 times a night. You might want to sit back down, as that was just his first show of the evening..."

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Frat Initiation - Original Version

Frat Initiation
Submission Date: 2004-01-21
By: Zoroaster

**********

Tim joins a fraternity.
Frat Initiation
Tim had never really wanted to join a fraternity. It wasn't that he particulary had anything against them, but he was just beginning his junior year of college, and had so many reasons not to. For one thing, he had to study most of the time to keep his 4.0 GPA and scholarship. Most of the time he wasn't in class or studying, he was in the campus gym working a body that most guys would already kill for.
He lived in town in a crappy small apartment he had had since leaving the care of the state - he'd never known either of his birth parents, and been shuffled around to various foster homes and orphanages most of his life. When adolescence hit, Tim had had a hard time of it - the people he was living with at the time were not especially kind to him, so Tim had signed up for all sorts of afterschool activities so he didn't have to go home until he absolutely had to. By the time he'd finished high school, he'd quit nearly all of them and spent hours after school in the weight room or running.
By the time he got to college, he could have killed in any regional bodybuilding competition, and likely won some national junior titles, but he never had much interest in it. He lifted at first to get away from the things he didn't like in his life, but now did it because he enjoyed it.
Tim loved the power his body gave him over others. He wasn't an asshole about it, but he got off on how he'd get stared at in the grocery store. He worked for the campus landscaping service, and when it was warm out shed his shirt at every opportunity, reveling in the appreciative (and sometimes lustful) looks of the other guys on the crew or of the people walking by. At the gym he'd get off on how the other guys in the gym admired him as he shoved the weights up and down, up and down. When he was done working out he'd stare at himself in the mirror at the gym for a few minutes, flexing his pecs or arms and admiring himself.
One day, there were only three guys in the gym - Tim, taking his usual narcissism time, and two other guys doing curls. He couldn't really help but overhear their conversation.
"Yeah, dude, they actually pay you, like, fourteen hundred for having good grades. That's the only way I can afford the membership fee," one said.
Pay for good grades? Tim thought. This sounded interesting - as a foster kid, he didn't have any parents he could really fall back on, and when he left for college he pretty much told Roy and Nadine to go fuck themselves - Roy would get drunk and try to fuck him, and Nadine just popped tranquilizers all the time. Tim survived on the stipend from his scholarship and the campus job, and barely made enough to feed himself, buy his supplements, and pay his rent.
"Can you join after your freshman year?" the other guy asked.
"Yeah, it's just a little harder. They always want guys with good grades and shit, though. You should come to rush. Initiation's hell though, and they always make it harder on the older guys."
Tim looked at the guy in the mirror and noticed the guy's shirt - Nu Tau Rho. He knew they were a newer fraternity, and their national chapter had just built them a huge nice new frat house near the athletic center.
"I can't join a fraternity," Tim thought to himself, "Even if they do pay." He thought of all the reasons he couldn't - no time, no money, but most of all, Tim was gay.
It was another of the reasons he just worked out all the time. Tim had known pretty well that he was queer early on in life, and was okay with it, but just, well...his sexual tastes ran toward the bizarre. "You're not even a real man," George had told him after catching a twelve-year-old Tim in the bathroom with a gay porn mag he'd found. George was his third foster father, a construction worker whose IQ was somewhere near his belt size. George flexed his bicep and pointed to it, Tim cowering in the corner expecting another beating. "This is what makes a man," George continued. "Hell, if I had my way, pussies like you would have their balls cut off 'em."
George hadn't beaten him that night but Tim ran away soon after. He'd left on a rainy night in the spring, walking down the city streets with no particular destination, muttering to himself. "Asshole. I'd like to cut his balls off," young Tim muttered to no one in particular.
For years, even as much as he hated George, Tim had still felt like he deserved to be castrated. At first it was guilt over being gay or not being masculine enough, but with time he accepted his queerness, and by George's definition was more of a man than that fuck was, but still, he fantasized about his big balls being tied off with twine and cut free from his body, about his cock being chopped off with a butcher knife or cigar cutter. He'd think about knives to do it, machines, other people. At home when he got horny he'd tie them off with string or a rubber band, and sometime in high school had gotten into putting hot needles through his scrotum and then testicles. Toward the end of high school he'd started cutting on his dick with a knife one of his foster dads had given him. The pain made it all really come alive to him; made him feel like more of a man for being able to take it.
He'd squeeze his balls through the thick rubber band or tie the string really tight until his balls started to swell a bit and his sac turned purple, then heat up his surgical needles with a lighter, press the point to the skin, close his eyes, and just shove it through the skin between his balls and his cock, piercing it all the way through. The neck of his scrotum was now just a big scar from all the times he'd done it. After putting a few of those through himself, he'd get the courage up to spear a nut. One time he'd taken a really long needle and shoved it through both at the same time, pushing it through both testicles, then cumming in big spurts all over his chiseled stomach, thinking about the damage the needles were doing to his balls, and wishing he could just make them go away.
His self-mutilation ritual was also self-perpetuating. At this point his cock and balls were so scarred up he couldn't really feel them that well anymore unless he poked them with something. He never showered much in public either, unwilling to deal with people staring at his genitals.
So there was the rest of the problem: would a frat really take a guy who's queer? He wasn't going to try and pull it off closeted; he respected himself too much for that, and if they found about his sexual habits there was no way they'd let him stay.
Still, fourteen hundred bucks a semester just for doing what he did anyway...that was certainly tempting. He'd have to look into it.
Tim headed back home to his tiny shoebox apartment and stripped his sweaty workout clothes off. He would have showered at the gym but nobody else was in it, and if he couldn't show off then he figured he might as well come back home and do it.
He got naked and stood in the bathroom admiring himself for a few minutes, flexing his pecs alternately, feeling up his own muscles, and generally getting his courage up for what he was about to do. He got the thick rubber band he'd been using lately out of his room and looped it twice around his balls, wincing as he forced them through the second time. His cock was already rock-hard, and his balls hanging low in their sac.
Tim jacked himself a few times, looking at his muscles, and saying to himself in the mirror, "Yeah, flex, you big bull! You can take this...you can take this!" He flicked himself in the nut, feeling the pain, and held his first needle over a lighter until it was good and hot. "Oh yeah, you big stud. You can take this..." Tim held his right nut inbetween his fingers and positioned the needle, the heat burning his skin a bit.
He sucked in his breath and held it for a moment, then shoved the needle through his sac and his nut. "Ahh..." he moaned a bit, and held himself steady on the sink, relishing the pain. Once he'd recovered, he heated up the second needle and found a spot without much scarring. It was getting harder and harder to push the needles through his balls now, and he idly wondered how much more damage they could take.
Another breath, and then he shoved it through and out the other side, pinning his left ball in his sac. He now had two needles, one spearing each nut, pushed in from front to back.
"Oh, yeah," he muttered, and struck a most-muscular pose, admiring his body as he endured the pain. "Fuck, yeah!" he shouted to the room, taking his thick cock in hand and jacking it quickly, imagining someone taking a knife to his balls, or crushing them between two bricks, or whatever...anything. As he moved his hand up and down his beer-can dick, rubbing his fingers over its flared head, his balls swung, striking against his taint and hurting him even more.
Next for the last part of his little ritual. Tim grabbed the knife he'd been using for this since he was in high school and found a good spot on the side of his cock. He closed his eyes, poked it just in under the skin, and ran the blade down his erect cock, imagining it severing his penis clean off instead of just giving it the gash it was. When he got to his head he started just nicking it, picking away at the corona. His head used to have a wide flare on it, but after years of hacking at it (and cutting little pieces off when he got he nerve) it was just surrounded by a thick white scar. "Yeah, bull stud," he muttered to himself some more. "Watch that useless cock get cut!"
He came quickly, as he always did when he speared his balls, shooting thick white ropes up onto the mirror and spattering blood all over the sink. Once the fuzziness of his orgasm passed, he gently removed the needles from his testicles and hopped in the shower, gently rubbing them with antiseptic to avoid infection, and then bandaging them later. It would be at least two weeks before he would try to jerk it again...
The next day he found out when rush was for the Nu Tau Rho's - this weekend, Friday night, at the house. He decided to go, even if he didn't think it would work out. "I should at least find out for sure," he thought to himself.
Friday he finished up his workout and got ready for the party. He shaved his face all nice and baby-smooth, the way he liked it, and got dressed - tight white sleeveless t-shirt, another tight semi-transparent button-down shirt over that, khaki shorts and sneakers.
Heads turned when he showed up at the party. Both the pledges and the brothers seemed pretty impressed by him, but he didn't really think much of them. He did find out the deal on GPA, though - if you kept it above a 3.5, they gave you cash every semester and waive the membership dues. He'd done the math; that money would help immensely, and with his 4.0 he could even live in the house for free...not that he was sure he wanted to.
Still, the money was attractive, so he signed up. The guy that took his form looked it over. He was pretty good looking; a little skinny with shaggy blond hair and a scraggly goat. At first the dude seemed a little surprised that a junior would want to rush, but when he saw Tim's GPA, his eyes lit up. "Wow, man. We really need to get our average up - a guy with a 4.0 would be great for us," he told Tim. "You still gotta do all the initiation stuff, though."
"That's okay," Tim told him. "Everybody else does it, right?" he smirked at the dude.
"Yup. Everybody does it. It's tough, but if you come through it, you'll be a man's man." The guy ran his eyes down Tim's body. "You must work out all the time, uh..." he glanced down at Tim's form, "Tim. I'm Josh, by the way."
Tim felt a little flush. "Uh, yeah, I really like lifting. Always trying to get bigger, you know?" he smiled at the guy.
"Yeah, dude, keep it up. It's obviously working. I mean, compared to you," Josh started, pulling up his sleeve and flexing his bicep, "I'm tiny."
Hell yeah you are, Tim thought to himself. "Just keep working it, man."
"How big are yours, anyway?" Josh asked him. "You mind showing me?"
Oh, yeah, Tim thought. "Uh, no, I don't mind." Tim pulled off the button down shirt and flexed his arm.
"Holy shit, man, it's like you got a couple of guinea pigs in there!" Josh exclaimed. He reached out and grabbed Tim's arm, not really even thinking about what he was doing. He squeezed and Tim flexed harder.
As if suddenly self-aware, Josh pulled off. "Strong like bull," he joked.
Tim laughed. "Yeah. Strong like bull."
"Man, it'll be nice having a guy like you around here," he commented. "We get all these circuit boys wanting to join up..." he motioned toward the room.
Circuit boys? Tim wondered to himself, and looked about. Hmm...it looked like a lot of these guys were, well, kinda gay. "What's a circuit boy?" he wondered aloud.
"Eh? These kids that hit up parties all night long. You know, real effeminate, like, say, that guy," he pointed to one of the hopeful pledges, a short skinny white kid with a pronounced lisp. "We try to keep the frat a little more masculine than that. You know, try to give a more positive image of gay people and shit."
"This is a gay fraternity?" Tim remarked aloud, surprised.
"Uhh...yeah, but we actually have a few straight and bi guys. That a problem?" Josh went on the defensive.
"No, no...I'm queer, man, I just didn't even realize." That was a relief. There went one of his problems with the frat. This was starting to sound a lot better.
Josh just laughed. "Man, there's a surprise. Most guys try to join us just because they're queer. You're probably the first not to."
Another guy came up to turn his little form in. "Hey, I gotta do all this, but hang around, man. Maybe we can meet up later." Josh winked at Tim.
"Definitely." Tim turned around and saw the party in a whole new light. He hung out the next few hours, meeting the brothers. They all seemed like pretty okay guys, and they were all sure excited that he wanted to join, both because of his grades and, although they didn't say it at first, his body. Tim's opinion of the whole thing was rapidly turning around - for a guy who liked to be admired, having an entire fraternity of guys wanting to feel him flex or whatever was making him heady.
As the night wore on, Tim was getting ready to leave but was stopped by Josh, who came jogging up. "Hey, dude," he got Tim's attention.
"Hey. What's up? I was just leaving..." Tim answered with a smile.
Josh grabbed his arm and plead, "No...not yet. Once most of these guys take off, we're pulling out the beer. You're invited to stay if you want."
"I dunno, man, I gotta study..." Tim protested.
"No, no, dude, it's a Friday night. You can study tomorrow or whatever, but man, stay out tonight! It'll be fun, ya big bull!" Josh teased.
Well, that pushed my buttons, Tim thought. "I guess so," he relented. "Just for a coupla beers, though."
"I was kind of hoping for all night," Josh smiled, "but a couple of beers is better than nothing, I guess." With that, he took off back over to his post for the night.
Tim wandered around, waiting for the people to leave, and then finally one of the brothers came out and announced, "Okay guys, we gotta get everybody out." Tim looked over and Josh, who was slowly shaking his head no. Tim just leaned back up against the wall and waiting while the brothers ushered the party guests out, smiling and shaking hands.
"Man, finally," Josh muttered as he approached Tim. "I swear, I'm never working the damn stand again. Stuck for the whole party behind that damn table...anyway, dude, how you doin'?" Josh greeted him.
"I'm all right," Tim smiled. Josh beckoned him inside, where one guy had already started pulling beer cans out of a cooler and passing them out. They each got one and found a seat on one of the plush couches around the room, drinking the beer and making small talk while everybody filtered in from around the house.
The guy who had ended the party stood up. "Okay, so we got three potential pledges over tonight. I'm Harry, the president this year. Why don't you all introduce yourselves?" he pointed at Tim, a pretty thick blond redneck-looking dude, and a black guy with a shaved head.
The black guy went first. "Uh, hey, I'm Andrew," he sort of waved to the room. Everybody looked at Tim next.
"Hi, I'm Tim," he spoke loudly, trying to project confidence.
Last was the redneck dude. "Hey, y'all, I'm Cyrus," he spoke slowly and with a deep, relaxed voice, and just a bit of an accent.
"Party on," Harry raised his beer, and sat back down.
Guys started getting up and moving about the room. Tim, Josh, and this other guy, Eric, ended up over in a corner talking. Eric was this redheaded kid from south Boston - Irish, big nose. He was the frat's general all-around athlete - the guy played soccer, football, basketball, baseball, you name it, and could kick your ass in most of them besides. They, of course, immediately got into a conversation about working out, while Josh piped up occasionally.
"I dunno, man, I've never gotten much out of power sets," Eric said. "They just don't seem to do much for me."
"You can't do them all the time," Tim countered. "You just do them for a bit, then go back to your old method, and a month or two later do another few days of them." Tim flexed his pecs, as if to make his point. "I've made some great gains that way," he finished.
"Maybe I just need a new workout partner," Eric winked. "Man," he shook his head, looking Tim up and down, "you're just huge."
Tim, starting to feel the alchol, blushed a little bit. "He's a beast," Josh joked. "A big bull. All he needs now is a ring in his nose." Tim really blushed now.
"Man, dude, your ears are the color of my pubes," Eric chortled. He drew in close to Tim, who was a bit buzzed. He didn't drink much. "You must really get off on being admired for your body, eh?" he smiled a conspiratorial smile, and Tim just smiled and looked down, at little embarrassed at being found out so easily.
Jesus saved him. Well, the hay-soos variety, a black-haired Brazilian guy, damn hot. "Hey, who's up for strip poker?" he butted in. "We need three more."
"I'm in," Eric instantly agreed.
"Me too," Josh barked out.
All three of them looked at Tim, who had recovered from his blushing spell. "Well, uh, I gotta get going soon, and..."
"No way," Josh interrupted him. "C'mon, we're just getting started."
"Yeah, man, you should stick around," Jesus interjected.
Eric just stared at Tim's crotch.
A few minutes later the guys had all assembled in the kitchen with fresh beers. Jesus was dealing first, and to his right were Eric, Tim, Josh, Cyrus, and Joey. Joey was a senior this year, one of these Italian greaseheads; he was some kind of musical genius and on scholarship, but to hear him talk he sounded more like a mechanic in Brooklyn.
"Okay, boys, these are the rules," Jesus explained as he dealt the cards. "Nothing wild, five card draw. No all in, only one raise. We don't want to end the fun too quickly, yah?" Everybody agreed, and took a few swigs of beer. Tim was pretty buzzed by this point, and both Josh and Eric kept 'accidentally' brushing up against his legs.
Tim didn't really know poker all that well, but knew the lower hands. He got a pair of sixes and a king off the deal, traded in the chaff, and got crap back again. Eric passed, and so did Tim and Josh. Cyrus bid, and everybody stayed in. "Okay boys, let's see 'em." Everybody put their cards on the table.
Joey had lost the hand, and off went his shoes. "Hey, you gotta take socks off too if you're taking shoes off," Jesus told him.
"What?" Joey protested, half-jokingly. "One article! Hell, we used to play shoes each counted separately!"
"No way, man. Then people wearing sandals n' shit get shafted," Jesus argued.
"Rrrrghgh!" Joey groaned in mock frustration, and peeled off his socks.
Eric chimed in. "I thought it was the guys not wearing underwear that got shafted." Everybody laughed and Eric dealt the next hand...
Well, pretty soon it got down to the wire. Jesus was in his underwear, Eric still had his pants on. Josh was down to a pair of ratty boxers. Tim had only lost his footwear and his outer shirt; he was tied with Joey for the most clothes still on. Cyrus had on his tighty-whities and his boots ("My boots are the last thing to go, boys."), and finally, Joey had still only lost his shoes.
"C'mon, boys, down to the wire," Josh chattered. "Two guys, nearly down for the count!"
About three people made "I'm up for it," jokes, two of them not even playing. More people were hanging out in the kitchen, surreptitiously watching the card players as they got progressively closer to naked. Josh lost the hand. After they showed his cards, he just stood up, sighed, and dropped his shorts while the other guys laughed. "We know who's the bitch tonight!" came the jokes.
Tim appreciated the look at Josh's body. The kid was lean, pretty well defined, with just a sprinking of hair on his chest and belly, leading to sparse brown patch. His dick was pretty average, but his balls... "Man," Tim thought to himself. "Those are fucking huge!"
And he was right. Together Josh's balls were bigger than Tim's fist. "Yeah, yeah," Josh blushed.
"Hey, you know the rules," Jesus chided him. "Get me a beer."
Josh sighed and went to get Jesus a beer. "See, anybody that loses is beer bitch for the rest of the game," Eric instructed Tim and Cyrus. "You have to do more or less what anybody still playing tells you to."
"Ah, sheeit," Cyrus cursed, laughing. "'course, I could use a beer. Yo, fetch me one," he told Josh just as Josh brought Jesus his beer. Josh rolled his eyes and turned back around.
Eric lost the next round and revealed that under his shorts he only had a jock on. He shook his ass a little to the table and Joey dealt the next hand. Tim lost his t-shirt, pulling it off slowly and flexing a little as he did it. Cyrus was staring at him so hard he didn't even realize one of the cards he thought was a heart was actually a spade, which meant the flush he had was pretty much worthless, and there went his tighty-whities. He had a nice, thick, uncut cock, and balls that looked pretty normal until Tim looked back over as Josh's, which swung heavily back and forth as he walked.
"Good thing you can't lose these, eh?" Harry smiled as he grabbed Josh's exposed nuts while he was on his way to the bathroom. All the brothers giggled a bit. Tim turned back to the game. Jesus lost next, dropping his undies to reveal a smallish black cock, but with the same amazingly huge balls as Josh's! Tim was amazed. "What are they feeding these guys?!?" he wondered. Next came Cyrus, who grudgingly pulled his boots off
Tim got really nervous the next round when his pants came off. He had also only come in a jock. "His ass's as nice as the rest of him," somebody hooted, and Tim flexed it for a moment. Josh reached over and slapped it.
Tim was taken aback, then gave Josh his best superior look. "Get me a beer, boy," he ordered him. Everybody hooted, and Tim sat back down for what would be his last round. All eyes were on him as he stood up and dropped his jock; his thick cock flopping out, chestnut sized balls swinging free.
"Yeeeah, good n' smooth," Eric said to himself. "Up against the wall, man," Eric ordered him, and Tim walked naked over to the other three boys, who were leaning up against the kitchen wall in a row.
Eric dealt the next hand and Tim basked in all the eyes on him, mometarily forgetting how screwed up his dick looked. He remembered soon enough when a drunken brother asked where all the scars came from.
After Tim's ears turned bright red but before he had a chance to answer, Eric berated the guy. "None of your fucking business, Greg! Leave the guy alone." Greg, cowed, staggered off. "Besides, I bet they just give more texture when you're fucking, yah?" he smiled at Tim. Tim hesitantly smiled back.
"Hey, we should go streaking after this," Josh suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
"I dunno, man, runnin' nekkid always makes my nuts hurt," Cyrus said.
"I never thought so," Jesus disagreed.
"They hurt mine, too," Tim added in, hoping for a reason not to have to go running around the neighborhood naked.
"I don't think so," Eric shouted from across the room. "All four of ya, do a lap 'round the block!"
"What?" Cyrus protested.
"You gotta do what they tell you, man," Harry laughed. "Better get runnin'!"
With a hail of "Ah shits!" and other protestations, Josh and Jesus herded them out the door.
"C'mon, man, big man like you?" Jesus said to Tim. "I'd be showing off more if I looked like that. But big guy like you, bet you're slow," he jibed, and took off running.
"Slow?" Tim shouted after him. "I'll show you slow!" He was just drunk enough to chase Jesus down the street, outpacing him after the first turn. He pulled ahead of the others, with only Josh really keeping up to him, balls banging and dick flying about. Tim's balls bounced against his thighs as he ran. "Fuck, I wish they were just gone!" Tim thought to himself, keeping up the pace and getting back to the house just moments before Josh.
They staggered back into the kitchen panting, followed soon by Jesus and a while later by a very out-of-breath Cyrus. "Oh God, my balls hurt!" he exlaimed, and leaned up against the walls clutching it.
Josh leaned into Tim's ear and said, "Bet a big bull like you could run for miles, eh? Wouldn't matter to you if your balls hurt, would it, ya big bull!" Tim's dick started to get a little turgid.
Just as they got back, Eric and Joey showed their cards, and Eric threw his three-of-a-kind down to the table as soon as he saw Joey's full house. "Fuck!" he shouted, tore off his jock, and tossed it at Joey, his smooth-shaven beercan flared cock flopping down on top of, you guessed it, a well-stuffed sac. Joey's cock was short but thick, and growing a bit now that it was free of its confinement.
Joey dodged Eric's soiled jock and smiled. "You only had me by one hand, you know," he smiled conspiratorially, and pulled down the top of his pants to show he wasn't wearing any underwear. "And I'm drunk enough to wanna be naked, anyway." He dropped his pants, and, well, you get the picture. Huge nuts.
What the hell were they putting in the water here? Did they only take guys with huge balls or something? Tim didn't really want to ask, but was damn curious. He didn't have much time to think about it, as Josh whispered in his ear, "Meet me by the bathroom in five minutes; Eric and I wanna get some time alone with ya." Tim nodded, his already plump cock getting a bit harder at the thought. All worry of getting home in time for sleep and studying tomorrow was gone - for the first time in his whole life, Tim was thinking unhesitatingly of sex, with no worries about being judged for his gayness or scars.
He took the opportunity to piss before he got too hard to do it, then waited outside the bathroom for Eric to meet his eye and gesture toward the stairs. Tim followed him up, clothing forgotten, and down to the room at the end of the hall.
Josh was already inside, cock hard. Just seeing Josh's erection made Tim's pop up, and his formidable manhood sprang to full attention. He felt Eric's poke him from behind, and spun to see Eric's smiling face looking down at his body. "God, you're so fucking hot," Eric muttered, inspecting Tim up and down. His own shaven erection brushed up against Tim's, sending little waves of electricity up through his body.
Tim felt Josh's hands run down his sides, slick with oil, and continue onto his ass. Eric dropped to his knees and took what of Tim's cock he could into his mouth, working it slowly, deliberately. Josh continued to oil Tim up from behind, spreading it over his back, ass, legs, and arms. Tim obliged him by flexing each body part as Josh ran his hands over it, trying not to collapse from the pleasure of his first blowjob. After Josh had oiled up his arms, he whispered in Tim's ear, "C'mon, you big bull. Flex 'em and keep 'em flexed!"
Tim obliged, striking a double bicep pose and spreading his legs a little while Josh jerked him off a little, oiling up his cock and balls in the process. Eric and Josh both continued running their hands over Tim's hard, defined body, while Tim just struck poses, trying to keep his muscles flexed as hard as possible. His dick was having no trouble; Tim's scarred cockhead was a full two inches in diameter at this point, his massive dong sticking straight out ahead.
He felt the snap of a rubber band go around his scrotum, but ignored it, instead choosing to focus on Josh's voice as he kept telling Tim that he was a big bull, a macho man, strong, hard, a beast... He was vaguely aware of Eric snapping another band around his cock, making it grow so hard it hurt. Tim didn't even look down, but just tried not to cringe at the pleasure when Eric's hand would have a jerk and brush his cock. His normally rather insensitive dick was almost painful to the touch now, he was so turned on. He imagined the bands cutting off circulation, turning his cock and balls black and cold, so that they would have to be cut off.
Maybe that's why all the brothers have these enourmous balls, Tim thought. Maybe they all had theirs removed and replaced with bigger ones. That was a hot idea, and he nearly came at the thought. Maybe they were going to cut his off, fulfilling his dream!
Josh produced a tape measure and started measuring Tim's body, wrapping the measure around each bicep, his chest, his thighs and calves...Tim was about to explode. His balls were aching and purple; he cock growing almost numb. "A big bull," Eric muttered. "Maybe we should steer him."
"Maybe later," Josh replied. "For now we want him all excited like this. You are excited, aren't you, you big bull?" Josh asked Tim.
"Oh, yeah...oh, god!" he cried out as Eric brushed against his cockhead. Eric took a pair of scissors and held them up to the neck of Tim's scrotum. Tim just flexed harder, waiting for the pain, but it never came - just the snap as the Eric cut the rubber bands, first around his balls, then around his cock. The aching in his balls began to subside, but Eric kept it going by thwapping them with his finger.
"They do this to horses, you know, to make them run faster, or to bulls to make them angry," Eric whispered to Tim, rubbing up against his body, humping Tim's hip. Josh was down at the floor now, running his hands over Tim's buttocks, legs, thighs...all over his body, whispering admiring nothings as he did so.
"You like the thought of having these cut off, don't you?" Eric said in Tim's ear. Tim didn't answer, but just struck another pose. Eric squeezed Tim's nuts. You can take it, he said to himself, and didn't even wince at the pain. "This too, I bet, yah?" Eric pumped his cock a few times, then his own. "Of course, then you'd just have to take it from behind, wouldn't you?" Eric moved around behind him, his hard cock brushing up against Tim's toned glutes. Josh dropped to his knees and sucked Tim off while jacking himself.
Eric began pushing up against Tim in a slow rhythym. "You'd have to take it like this, once that's gone," he muttered to Tim, then pulled off. "But not until then," he smiled, and grabbed Tim's biceps.
"Oh, shit," Tim muttered, his entire body shuddering as he came violently in Josh's mouth. Tim bucked involuntarily, waves of pleasure racking his body. Josh pulled off his cock, cum dribbling out of his mouth. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth on his hand, then sat back and jerked himself some more, his big balls bouncing on the floor as he did it. Eric was unrolling a condom.
Tim leaned back against the bed and tried to catch his breath, watching as Eric bent Josh over and took him over the side of the bed. Both came quickly, moaning as they did so. Eric pulled out right beforehand and flipped Josh over, yanking the rubber off and spurting all over the smaller boys' chest and face. "Oh, fuck yeah!" Eric exclaimed as the last of his jizz dribbled out.
"Come on, cumdog," Eric berated Josh. "Squirt that shit, boy!" Josh closed his eyes, moaned, and white goo dribbled out the end of his cock, mixing on his abdomen with the cum of Tim and Eric.
Afterward, they all just lay for a bit, toweling off. Josh lit up a cigarette, and he and Eric lay across Tim's chest, basking in the moment. After a few minutes, Josh got up to shower. Tim and Eric followed, soaping up in the communal shower and washing the cum, oil and sweat off their glistening bodies.
The next day Tim got up late with a bit of a hangover. He thought about the previous night all day, it even keeping his normally focused mind off his workout while he mechanically went about the motions of his routine. No flexing that day, but straight back to his apartment for a shower and shave. He flexed in the mirror a bit and thought about his big bull nuts being cut off, his cock sliced clean off at the base...but it just didn't do it like last night had.
He checked the mail eagerly when it came, but it was only junk mail. Same the next day, and the next, until Thursday, when he finally got a letter with the Nu Tau Rho letters stamped on it. He tore it open eagerly, and was relieved to see that he had indeed gotten a bid. He was pretty sure it would happen, but still...he worried. He really wanted to be with these guys, money or no.
The letter said he was supposed to show up Saturday night wearing only shorts, an old t-shirt, and flipflops or sandals. Nothing else, it said, very clearly. Tim studied extra hard Friday to make up for what he knew would be a busy evening. Saturday afternoon he took a long bath and shaved himself to the skin, wanting to look his best. When the time came for the party, he wore a tight wife-beater, a pair of running shorts, and some five-dollar flipflops he bought at the supermarket.
He showed up to the house, eager and horny, and rang the bell, shifting his weight back and forth nervously. When the door finally opened, one of the brothers stood there wearing only a pair of well-stuffed jockeys. "Tim, right?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah, I'm Tim," he said.
"Come on in. We're only waiting on one more." The brother stood back from the door to allow Tim into the living room. Cyrus was already there, dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a plain white T.
"Hay, man," he greeted Tim. Tim said hi back and sat down. The brother stood behind them both, not saying anything. Tim and Cyrus just sat there in silence, assuming they weren't supposed to say anything either. After a minute or two of the awkward silence, the door rang again. The brother took his time opening it, and did to find Andrew there, looking as nervous as they were. The brother let him in and he sat down on the couch, after answering the cautious greetings offered by the others.
After a few more minutes of silence, the brother spoke from behind them. "It's time. Strip," he ordered the three. They did, removing their clothing quickly and nervously looking around at the others. "Follow me," the brother ordered.
They did follow him, back into the kitchen of the frat house and down into the dirt and wood basement, where the rest of the fraternity awaited. What little light fell off a pair of lightbulbs was dim, and it was hard to make out their faces, but all were naked, their skin glistening in the light. Each sported their gigantic (and identical, Tim noted) pair of balls and a wide variety of cocks to accompany them. The brother who led them had them stand in a row against the far wall, and the brothers circled in around them.
A voice Tim recognized as Harry's boomed out, "You three have been selected to enter the Nu Tau Rho fraternity. Membership is for life, once you join, you are forever one of us. Your initiation shall be swift but painful. This is your last chance to turn back.
"Cyrus Beauregard Turnbull! Do you wish to join Nu Tau Rho?"
"Hell yeah, man," Cyrus answered in his twang.
"Timothy Sean Whalen! Do you wish to join Nu Tau Rho?" came the question.
Tim piped us, "Yes!"
"And finally, Andrew Tyrell Newman! Do you wish to join Nu Tau Rho?"
"Yes," he answered, clearly and calmly.
"Commence initiation," came Harry's voice.
One brother took each of their arms and held it up to the wall to fasten it to a manacle, while others spread their legs apart and latched their ankles into manacles on the wall. One brother lined up in front of each of them and was similarly manacled, but one of their feet was left unshackled. It all kinda turned Tim on, and he got hard.
"Each side will take a turn kicking the other," Harry instructed them. "After each kick, the kicker will be restrained, and the other side will have a foot freed. If you last long enough," he voice took on a warning tone, "you will be a full brother in the fraternity."
Tim looked down, helpless, as a brother poked a syring into his sac and shot it up with something. "Of course, we want it to go on for at least a few rounds," Harry told them. Tim felt a numbness spread throughout his nether regions. He couldn't even feel his own cock.
"Ready, pledges?" he asked them. Tim, Cyrus, and Andrew all nodded and braced themselves for the first kick.
The man in front of Tim reared back, then swung his leg forward in a mighty kick. Tim felt a dull thud from his groin area, followed by a low ache. That wasn't so bad, he thought.
Tim's leg was unshackled and the other man's clamped down. Tim reared back and let loose the strongest kick he could, throwing the man across from him off the ground, the chains jerking him back. He cried out, and Tim thought he heard Eric's voice...could be. Another thirty seconds to change shackles, and Tim braced himself for the attack, showing his manliness by spreading his legs a little further apart to give his opponent a clear target.
Another thud and a crunching noise. Tim felt a little spear of pain in his right nut and then a bit more pain than last time. He saw a hand hold his sac from behind, roll his balls around a little, and let go. While they changed shackles again, he heard Josh's voice in his ear. "One down, you big bull, but the shot'll wear off soon. Take it like a man, yah?"
One down? That meant...he tried to look down but without being able to move his cock out of the way, he couldn't tell. Had his opponent burst one of his balls?
The brothers were around him, chanting for Tim to take his kick. He swung back, using the chains to pull himself off the ground, throw his leg back, and then pivot on the chains, muscles straining as he sought to make use of his full momentum. Tim threw himself forward, bringing his leg up with as much force as possible into the other man.
His leg connected and thudded directly between his opponent's firm balls. He could feel the skin tear a bit, and the hear Eric's voice cry out. It was definitely Eric; he knew for sure now. Cries came out from either side of him as well - Cyrus's sac was swelling up, and Andrew was on struggle.
Tim braced himself for another strike. It missed his left ball but still connected with the wreckage of his right, sending a little wave of pain up through his body. Tim could see his sac swelling a bit and feel the ache rising; that shot didn't last long. He could take it, though. He had to see this through.
His leg crunched up against the Eric's sac. Why weren't his balls bursting? They felt so hard...and then it hit him. They were fakes. The size, the feel of them...they had to be. And if his were, then all the brothers had fake balls. They must have taken hormone shots or something...
Tim tried to drown out the shouts of the brothers cheering them on. A big cheer went up for Cyrus, who was being taken down, his scrotum swollen and purple. They lay him on the ground and felt around his sac. "Yeah, both gone!" Harry shouted, and they carried Cyrus back upstairs.
Tim didn't even try to watch. The pain was growing rapidly in his groin, and he knew he wasn't going to be let down from here until his other ball burst. The next time Eric's foot came up into his groin, he tried to move his hips to swing it into the way, but Eric's foot only grazed it, striking his wounded sac again.
Andrew cried out as his first testicle popped but Tim didn't hear. He focused all his will into striking Eric's sac, trying to burst it open. He could feel it tear a little further, and blood dripped from it slowly. Tim shook his remaining ball square in front of Eric's foot, but this kick was weaker and it didn't burst. Tim was having the same problem...his groin hurt so much it was becoming hard to kick, but he did anyway, rending the skin of Eric's sac.
Tim took another kick, but this time, as Eric kicked, one of his testicles fell plumb out of his sac and onto the ground! Bewildered by the suddern feeling, Eric faltered and brushed his foot against Tim's leg. The other testicle was partially protruding from the hole but couldn't make its way out yet.
There was another cry from Andrew, and he was taken down and checked. "Both gone here, too," Harry announced, and Andrew was taking upstairs. All but a few of the brothers were concentrated now on Tim and Eric. Tim's sac was turning purple, his cock swollen and monstrous. Eric's was bleeding slowly, his detached testicle still on the floor where it had fallen.
Tim reared up for another kick, and relished the splat as his foot made contact even as his stomach convulsed from the pain in his groin. The manacles switched and Tim tried to catch his breath, his strength leaving him...he was having difficulty holding himself up. "C'mon, you big bull," Josh encouraged him. "You can take this! A big stud like you losing to a shrimp like that? Take it like a man!"
Tim struggled to his feet and prepared for one last strike. He swung and made contact, but to no avail. Eric's other ball still lay there, protuding slightly but not coming out. The brothers were talking loudly now, openly speculating on what would happen, but Tim couldn't hear them. All he knew was there was another strike coming, and this one had to hit its target.
Tim steeled himself for it, flexing the muscle between his legs that made his dick flip up, giving Eric the best target possible. Eric's foot came up, and to Tim it was if things were in slow motion. He watched the foot flying toward him, and slightly shifted his weight toward it, then shoved his hips forward and smashed his ball against the upward moving heel of Eric's foot.
Even the pain was in slow motion, from the initial ache of his left (and only) nut first compressing against the heel of Eric's foot, the rising intesnsity as more pressure went onto it, the explosive rush of agony as the ball finally burst, and finally the warm achy feeling of more blood filling his swollen scrotum.
Tim collapsed into the chains, and the brothers reached to unchain him. "No!" he rasped hoarsely. "One more."
He struggled to his feet, the brothers standing back in awe. With so many crowded around them the light no longer gave such contrast, and Tim could see Eric, hanging in the chains, struggle to lift his head to Tim...and smile. Tim reared back for the last kick, and wham!
There were doctors on hand, of course, to patch up the three pledges, their opponents, and Joey, who had been knocked clean unconscious by Eric's last testicle as the force of Tim's kick knocked it clear out of Eric's tattered scrotum, off his bruised abdomen, and back into Joey's unfortunate head.
By the time Eric and Tim had been taken up to the makeshift operating area in the kitchen, Cyrus was finished up and sitting on the couch, surrounded by admirers, his burst testicles already removed and replaced with fakes nearly as large as the other brothers'. The doctor, an alumnus himself, was just inserting the second of Andrew's new set.
Tim and Eric sat on the couch, Josh and some of the other brothers tending to them and chattering amongst themselves at the show the two of them had put on. "That was the craziest initiation I've ever seen," muttered one of the men, massaging his own groin as he thought of it.
"Hell, yeah, man," agreed another. It was about to get crazier. Before he knew it, the doc was done with Joey and the other pledges' two opponents. It was his turn.
He lay on the table, his scrotum cut open, drained, and hollowed out, happy to have achieved part of his dream. The doctor was measuring what size fake testicles to install in him, and Tim said, "I don't want...fake ones." It was a struggle to get the words out, but he did it. "Just...clean it up. Nice and neat...no...sac."
"Me either," Eric muttered to the boys watching him.
Everybody got quiet. "Is that okay?" somebody asked. "Can you do that?"
"I...I don't know," Harry replied. "Somebody fetch the rulebook."
They waited in silence for a few moments as a brother fetched the book. Harry thumbed through the index, looking for something relevant. "I can't leave him like this all day," the doc warned. "Decide soon."
"Uh...uh...okay," Harry sighed, finding something that looked like the rules. "Um...shit. It doesn't say. It says he may have them implanted."
"May? That means it's his choice, right?" Josh replied.
"But nobody ever has," Harry countered.
"Too late, I'm fixing him up," the doctor finished the argument, snipping away at Tim's tattered scrotum with a pair of scissors.

Tim relaxed, happy he'd gotten his way with this. Why lose his balls just to get even bigger ones?