Saturday, April 13, 2024

Castration Warehouse - Part 1

I am now posting the first chapter in what is currently slated to be a 12-chapter series. The first 8 chapters are complete, and the final 4 are in various stages of completion, so hopefully I'll get them all done in time to keep up with my posts. :) 

The next chapter will post the first Saturday in May, with each subsequent chapter following a week later. 

This series may end up being particularly brutal, even for me, and will be happening to an innocent young man whose only crime was to be outrageously handsome, muscular, and hung. I hope you all enjoy it! 


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Castration Warehouse - Part One

Based on an original story by RackTheSack 


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The high end Mercedes looked out of place driving through the run down and largely abandoned warehouse district. Even the darkness of the moonless night and the near absence of street lights couldn’t disguise that this part of the city was many decades past its heyday, and the sedan’s headlights illuminated the fronts of dilapidated buildings and piles of refuse and detritus from a previous, prosperous, bygone era. 

The elegantly dressed young woman behind the wheel checked the address once again, holding the monogramed business card up with one delicate, well-manicured hand to confirm that she was nearing her destination. She pulled up to the address on the card, a four-story brick office building that, while perhaps better maintained than the buildings surrounding it, was otherwise bland and nondescript and blended in with its neighbors. 

She pulled into the empty lot adjacent to the building and parked her car. If there was anyone else in the building, their cars were nowhere to be found. Nevertheless, she gracefully stepped out of her car, revealing a ravishing, flaxen-haired woman of staggering beauty. She was in her mid 20s and just coming into the full flower of her womanhood, with the type of exquisitely chiseled features that could launch a thousand ships, and a fit, toned, and curvaceous body that could stop traffic. The gorgeous young woman held herself with the poise and self-assuredness of one who was born to great wealth, and walked confidently toward the entrance to the building, her expensive high heels clacking rhythmically on the pavement. 

The recessed entrance featured a large, windowless door with a small speaker box next to it. She pressed the button, and after a short pause, a man’s deep voice came through the speaker asking, “Good evening, how may I help you?” 

“I have an appointment with Ms. Akers,” the woman replied in a soft, cultured voice. There was no immediate response, but after several moments, the heavy door opened. She was greeted by a tall, well dressed, and extraordinarily large and muscular man. He was in perhaps his mid 30s with a handsome, rugged, square-jawed face and a blond crew cut. His clothes were expensive and expertly tailored to be both stylish and loose fitting, but no amount of tailoring could disguise the positively enormous size of his bulging muscles. 

“Ms. Daniels?” the big man politely asked in a deep and husky voice that fit with his tall stature and imposing size. 

“Yes, I’m Veronica Daniels. I apologize for being a few minutes early.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Daniels, and it’s no trouble at all. My name is Mitch, and if you will please follow me, I will escort you to Ms. Akers’ office. Right this way.” The big man held the door open for her, and then led her down a clean but unremarkable hallway before arriving at an office door. After Mitch gave a light knock at the door, a woman’s voice beckoned him to enter. The big man then turned the knob, and ushered Ms. Daniels into the room beyond. 

Where the neighborhood might have charitably been called derelict, and the building itself clean but plain, the office beyond the open door had a reserved opulence that would have fit in at any of the most expensive real estate in the city’s bustling heart. Rich dark woods, tall leather-backed chairs, and tasteful artwork greeted Ms. Daniels as she stepped into the room, and an attractive, immaculately dressed, middle-aged woman stood up from behind her desk and approached the newcomer. 

“Ms. Daniels,” she smiled as she extended her hand in greeting, “a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jessica Akers. We spoke earlier on the phone.” 

“Yes, Ms. Akers, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” the younger woman said as she gave a soft smile in return and shook the older woman’s hand. “And please, call me Veronica. Thank you again for agreeing to see me.” 

“Will you ladies require anything else?” Mitch politely inquired from the doorway in his gravelly but respectful voice. 

Jessica replied, “No, thank you, Mitch. Please close the door behind you.” 

Without another word, the big man gently closed the door, leaving the two women alone in the room. 

“Please sit down, Veronica,” Jessica said as she motioned toward one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. “How can I help you today?” 

“I am in need of the special services you offer,” the blond woman began after taking a seat, looking pensive at first but gaining more confidence as she told her story. “A few months ago, I was at a social gala downtown. My husband wasn’t able to attend as he was overseas on business, so I was at the event on my own. A young man named Jack Samson was in attendance as well. I had never met him before; he is apparently something of a local celebrity, but since I don’t follow sports, I had never heard of him. He had been invited to attend the gala as he had just led his university’s football team for its fourth straight regional championship in a row.” 

A slight smile spread across Veronica’s graceful lips as she recounted the story. “I have to admit, the young man looked dashingly handsome in his tuxedo, and he had exactly the sort of fresh-faced, all-American, boy-next-door good looks you would expect from a quintessential college quarterback hero. And when an acquaintance introduced me to young Mr. Samson, I found him to be instantly charming, with his easy smile and the sturdy confidence of youth. I must confess, I was quite taken by the lad, and his attention and flattery caused me to lower my guard.” 

Veronica then paused for a moment, her crystal blue eyes looking troubled and lost as she gazed into the middle distance, clearly replaying the events in her mind. “Against what should have been my better judgement, I allowed the handsome and charming young man to accompany me and escort me around the event. As we traveled around the museum, we suddenly found ourselves alone in a quiet and unvisited corner. And that’s where he took advantage of me.” 

The beautiful blond suddenly raised a trembling hand to her lips as tears streamed unnoticed from her downcast eyes. Jessica Akers, a look of motherly concern and sympathy on her handsome features, silently passed several facial tissues to the crying woman, who accepted them gratefully before continuing on with her story. 

“Looking back, I can now see how he had been steering me toward a secluded location, intending all along to get me alone so that he could have his way with me. I feel so foolish!” 

“Nonsense!” Jessica gently chided. “It was not your fault, Veronica. The young man is clearly a sexual predator. He attacked you, and you are not to blame for his actions.” 

Veronica raised her tear-streaked eyes to meet Jessica’s gaze, steel creeping into her voice as she said, “I want him to pay for what he did to me!” 

“You’ve come to the right place, Ms. Daniels,” the older woman replied, the intensity in her eyes at odds with the slight smile on her face. “We can make sure that Mr. Samson never violates a woman ever again…” 


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The truth of the matter was altogether different from the story that Veronica Daniels told to a sympathetic Jessica Akers. 

Veronica had married her husband, Richard Daniels, just a little over two years ago, uniting two highly pedigreed families of old money. Richard, a very successful attorney, was just a few years older than Veronica, with handsome, GQ-quality good looks, a trim and fit physique, and a quiet charm that the beautiful blond woman found quite appealing. The union had been as much a love match as a sound financial decision, and the two started trying to have a family right away. But after two years, Veronica had yet to become pregnant with a child. 

Concerned, the young woman had quietly and privately sought out the services of a fertility clinic, where she underwent an extensive battery of tests, all of which concluded that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her body or her womb. She then covertly obtained a sample of her husband’s sperm and brought it in for testing, and that’s when the doctors discovered the real problem — Richard Daniels was shooting nothing but blanks. There was no way that he could ever father a child, and since neither of them had any siblings, the inheritance of their combined wealth and fortune was now at stake. 

Veronica was very distraught at the news of her beloved husband’s infertility, but it took only a matter of a few days for the brilliant and resourceful young woman to come up with a solution. She decided to secretly find a sperm donor to father a child, a man with a similar heritage and coloring to her own husband, so that no one — not even her husband — would ever suspect the child was anything but a Daniels. She quickly realized that she couldn’t use a sperm bank service, not even the ones catering to exclusive clientele such as herself, for she knew that if her plan was to work, then no one but herself should be allowed to know the truth. So she started seeking out a suitable sperm donor on her own. 

Fate intervened one morning just a week later. She was enjoying breakfast with her husband on their veranda, overlooking the breathtaking gardens of their estate, when her gaze chanced upon a photo on the cover of the sports section of her husband’s newspaper. The crisp color photograph showed a group of ecstatic young men on a football field celebrating their record-breaking victory at winning their regional championship an unprecedented four years in a row, their handsome young faces overjoyed and flushed with exuberance and pride. The young men had hoisted one of their own onto their shoulders, their quarterback and MVP, who had been the cornerstone of their victories these past four years. 

When her bright blue eyes landed on the quarterback’s face, Veronica felt her heart skip a beat, for she knew with one hundred percent certainty that she had just found her sperm donor. 

The quarterback’s name was Jack Samson, and he was perfect in every way. Not only did his fair skin, wavy dark brown hair, and stunning blue eyes match her husband’s coloring, but with his chiseled features and powerful jawline, the young man almost looked like he could be a not-too-distant relation to Richard Daniels. Like perhaps a younger and even more devastatingly handsome cousin. Even through his bulky football uniform, Veronica could also see that Jack Samson had a very muscular and beefy body, unusually so even for a college football player. The blond beauty had always been attracted to fit and muscular men, and in her wilder youth had had several flings with some top world-class athletes, but she had never encountered a man with a build as thick and muscular as that possessed by young Jack. Her target acquired, Veronica began setting plans in motion to capture her quarry. 

The Gala Committee was just one of many social organizations she belonged to, and at one of the Committee planning meetings, she bent the ear of one of the stodgy older men on the board, one who she happened to know was a big fan of college football. Veronica made a calculated off-hand suggestion that the Gala extend invitations this year to a select few celebrities, including perhaps some local sports heroes, like, oh, maybe that young man who had helped the university win that football game? Veronica smiled inwardly as she watched the seed she planted take hold, and she knew that the sweet but rather daft old man would think that the idea had been his own. 

She then scoped out the museum where the Gala would be taking place, making note of all of the closed circuit camera locations and where security would be stationed during the event. She wanted to make sure that she would remain unseen when she left the event early… with young Jack Samson in tow. 

The night of the Gala, Veronica made sure that she looked her ravishing best. Her pale golden hair cascaded down the open back of her form-hugging cocktail dress in large waves, and the artful application of a small amount of cosmetics (Veronica had the kind of natural beauty that did not need much enhancing) accentuated her stunning blue eyes and her dazzling, captivating smile. She was ready to go for the kill. 

Seducing Jack Samson ended up being the easiest part of her plan. 

The unsuspecting college athlete proved to be defenseless against her lush womanly charms. In fact, if anything, the fact that the young man remained such a gentleman despite Veronica’s coy teasing and sly advances was quite remarkable, but it was a foregone conclusion that he would be going home with her — the lad was putty in her hands from the moment that his eyes found her in the crowd. 

What Veronica hadn’t counted on was how attracted she herself would be to the dashingly handsome young man. Jack was even more devastatingly handsome in person, and his quick wit, self-deprecating manner, and easy charm made him even more appealing. She didn’t know where he’d acquired the tuxedo, but the suit had been expertly tailored to his fit and astonishingly muscular figure. The young man was an inch or two taller than Richard’s 6 feet, and with his unusually broad shoulders, tight waist, and slender hips, he must have been a particularly difficult fit for clothes, but the tuxedo looked like it was made for him, hugging him in all of the right places. 

Veronica also hadn’t expected to be quite so taken with the charmingly shy young man. The way he would occasionally stammer and blush in her presence was actually surprisingly adorable and endearing and sexy, and it was abundantly clear that he had been instantly infatuated with her from the moment the two met. 

She made sure that their conversation took place in a group of her own acquaintances, and that she didn’t act with any undue impropriety. She needed to have witnesses to her actions that night so that none would ever suspect her plans. She then bade her fellow Gala attendees a good night, apologizing that she needed to leave early. As she made her goodbyes, she offered her hand to the unbelievably handsome and sexy college football star, and the young man actually bent down to gently grasp and kiss her hand. When he straightened, there was an unmistakable look of shock and surprise on his face, perhaps invisible to the rest of the guests, but obvious to the beautiful Veronica, for she had quietly slipped a piece of paper into his large, warm, muscular hand. The message on the paper, written in the young woman’s own delicate script, asked him to meet her in 15 minutes, and included a map of the museum with a hand-drawn route on where to meet her. 

Veronica then flashed Jack another one of her dazzling smiles and left, smirking to herself in the secure knowledge that the infatuated boy was watching her walk away. 

She made a few more goodbyes to friends and fellow socialites, retrieved her coat and purse, and made her way out of the Gala. She then circled around to the back of the building, avoiding all of the cameras, and reentered the rear of the structure, where she’d made sure to have a door unlocked just for that purpose. Sure enough, right on time, a breathless and obviously excited Jack Samson rounded the corner, his achingly handsome face lighting up in a smile bright enough to illuminate even the dimly lit room. Veronica answered him with a smile of her own, and the two passionately embraced for the first time. Jack kissed her with all of the ardor of a besotted young man, and Veronica surprised herself when she responded in kind, for not only was Jack a gorgeous young man, but he was instantly likable and charming, and a surprisingly talented kisser. 

The beautiful blond allowed them to kiss for several long minutes, all while Jack gushed about how lovely she was, and all of the things he wanted to do with her. His deep, rich voice and hot breath against her slender neck made Veronica shiver with lustful anticipation, but she knew that they couldn’t stay at the museum without risking discovery. So she lured him out the rear door to her waiting car, where he eagerly got in and she drove them away. 

Veronica drove the rented towncar to a lovely, secluded residence, an AirBnB that she had similarly rented for the occasion — she wanted to make sure that the young man wouldn’t be able to trace anything back to her after their night of sex was complete. 

Her intention was simply to seduce the young man, fuck him a couple of times, and then drop him off back on campus and never see him again. But as she got the handsome young man inside and took off his tuxedo to reveal his body in all of its naked glory, she gasped and realized that she would instead make a full night of it. 

Jack Samson was even more staggeringly beautiful in the nude, for his physique was more spectacular than she would have ever guessed. The young man was simply enormously muscular, even bigger than in the newspaper photo that Veronica had seen barely more than a month before, and at the same time had the type of perfect proportions and stunning aesthetics that would make a master sculptor weep. And all of those massive muscles were expertly showcased by the natural leanness of youth, the cuts and shreds of his magnificent physique making him look even bigger, if that was possible. 

Veronica gave an involuntary gasp when Jack first took off his tuxedo dress shirt to reveal his majestic upper body, and the young man blushed and shyly smiled at her reaction. He explained that he’d been hitting the weights hard ever since the end of the college football season, as in addition to wanting to play professional football, Jack had aspirations of being a competitive bodybuilder. His coach hadn’t wanted him to get too big and bulky for the gridiron, but now that the football season was over, he was finally free to start packing on the size he craved. 

She lightly ran her delicate hands admiringly over his mighty shoulders and incredibly thick and expansive chest, cooing that with a last name like ‘Samson’, it seemed only natural that he would pursue bodybuilding. Sure, she was stroking the young man’s ego and arousing him to even greater heights, but she was also being serious — the extraordinarily gifted young man did indeed look like a modern day Samson, and she had no doubt that he could have an extremely successful career in bodybuilding. Hell, she thought that he could take any stage anywhere that very night and win top prize, for his massive size and extraordinary conditioning were unlike anything she’d ever seen before. 

Now more eager than ever, Veronica started trying to wrestle Jack’s pants off of him. The young man blushed in embarrassment, making his face look even more achingly handsome than ever, as he gently caught her hands in his and gazed into her eyes. The look he gave her with his soulful blue eyes stopped her in her lustful tracks, for his gaze was full of equal parts hurt and hope. Jack warned the beautiful blond that he was hung big. As in very, very big. Veronica made a light-hearted joke in response, saying something to the effect that ‘that’s what all the boys say.’ But something in the intense look in Jack’s beautiful blue eyes gave her pause, and with that same wounded look, the gorgeous young man said that if, after seeing the size of his cock, she decided that she didn’t want to have sex with him, he would understand. 

With a stoic look on his face and clearly fearing rejection, Jack unbuttoned his pants himself and drew down his pants and underwear in one smooth motion. As he straightened up, the largest and hardest penis Veronica had ever seen slapped hard against his rock solid, cobblestone abs with a loud and beefy smack, standing ramrod straight and already fully, and almost painfully, erect. The enormous organ stretched from his groin all the way up his abdominal wall, the bloated and distended and beautifully-formed head tapping against his chiseled upper abs just below the dramatic overhang of his fantastically thick pectoral muscles. The mighty column of man meat was as extraordinarily thick and girthy as it was long, and the graceful shaft was covered in many prominent and convoluted veins, making the giant dong look even more imposing and powerful. 

Jack just stood still with downcast eyes as the gorgeous blond gazed in utter shock as the sight of his massive sex organ. Veronica gasped again, unable to control her response as her eyes drank in the view of Jack’s unbelievably colossal cock, and she took an involuntary step backward. The young man’s look of crushed dejection nearly broke her heart, and he bent over to start pulling his pants back up. But the luscious blond stopped him with a hand on his mammoth shoulder as she honestly gushed, “Jack, that’s the most beautiful cock I have ever seen.” She had to swallow twice to find her voice again, and then she huskily asked, “Just how long IS it?” 

Jack blushed again, but this time in pleased modesty, as he replied, “My cock measures just over fourteen and a half inches from root to tip, and at its thickest point just a couple of inches behind the head, which is itself about three inches long, it measures ten and a half inches around.” 

Veronica gave a low whistle of admiration, and Jack chuckled wryly and said, “Yeah, a lot of guys in the locker room have been jealous when they see what I’ve got packing, but sometimes you can have too much of a good thing, you know? Some women I’ve been with have become obsessed with my size, and don’t see me as a person anymore. Others, the majority in fact, run for the hills once they see the size of my cock. It gets even worse when they see the size of my balls, too, as they’re convinced that my big nuts will make them pregnant if they simply get too close to me!” 

The young woman hadn’t yet noticed Jack’s balls, so fascinated was she by his undoubtedly record-breaking 14.5-inch super cock. But as her gaze swept lower to encompass his low-slung ball sac, her blue eyes grew even wider and she gasped again, for Jack also possessed a set of massive bollocks that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a prized stud bull! As voluminous as his cleanly shaved scrotum was, it strained to contain the sheer mass of the two enormous testicles contained within. Veronica struggled to determine what she could compare the two massive oval gonads to, for they were orders of magnitude larger than any balls she’d seen on a man before, and she eventually decided that they were even bigger than the juiciest of ripe grapefruits, and were more like baby smooth, oblong pink coconuts in size. 

Veronica gazed up at Jack’s expressive blue eyes and said in a soft voice, “May I touch them?” With a shy, hesitant smile on his gorgeous features, he nodded yes, and she reached out with both hands — which, surprisingly, were not trembling — and cupped the undersides of the two mammoth man eggs, cradling the enormous sex glands in her palms and gently lifting them upward. There was such a wealth of beefy man meat stuffed into Jack’s sac that his balls filled her small hands to well beyond overflowing, and she couldn’t even hope to wrap her fingers around the colossal orbs. The skin of the young man’s sac was soft and warm and silky to the touch, but the flesh within felt extremely dense, and their weight was immense, for his balls were even heavier than they looked. 

“Jack, you are absolutely magnificent!” Veronica said with real feeling, looking up almost worshipfully into the handsome young man’s stunning blue eyes. “I would like it very, very much if you would fuck me now.” 

An ecstatic and eager smile broke across Jack’s gorgeous face, washing away the previous fear and doubt, and he gently cradled Veronica’s beautiful face in his massive, muscular hands and gave her a deep and passionate kiss, the first of many that night. 

Veronica had always been proud of her own physical fitness and sexual stamina, but all of her skills and endurance were put to the ultimate test that night as she made love with the ridiculously handsome, hunky, and hung football stud over and over and over again. Once she had falsely assured the young man that she was on the pill and had an IUD, Jack quickly showed that he didn’t just have a huge cock, but that he knew how to use it, too. The breathtakingly handsome young muscle stud proved himself to be a maestro at bringing a woman pleasure. And not just with his cock, either, but also with his fingers, lips, and tongue as well, bringing Veronica to screaming, clawing, bone-melting release again and again and again and again that glorious night. 

The young man also proved that his humongous, wrecking ball sized nuts weren’t just for show, either, but were heavy duty powerhouses of staggering male virility. His first load of seed was so massive that it completely filled Veronica’s womb and overflowed onto the bed in great gloopy rivers. The young woman was flabbergasted by the sheer volume of spunk in that single load, and she was certain that he must have been storing up his cum for weeks to produce a load so unbelievably immense. But a blushing Jack assured her that he could cum many times in one night, and he proceeded to prove it by shooting no fewer than a dozen loads before the sun even rose the next morning… and then a few more loads after that! None of the subsequent cum loads were quite as mind-bogglingly massive as the first, but they were all huge, far larger than anything Veronica had ever seen before, and astonishingly thick — perhaps even unnaturally so — with his hyper abundant sperm. 

Veronica’s overstretched pussy was already aching and battered by their third or fourth lovemaking session, so she gave her overused and abused vagina periodic breaks by bringing Jack off with other parts of her body, including her hands, her breasts, and her buttocks, marveling each time at the sheer unreal quantity of prime baby batter that the impossibly handsome and hunky lad would spew all over her lush body. But after each break, it would be back to fucking again, with Veronica moaning and quivering as Jack’s huge cock would fill her to overflowing with all of that hot, sleek, steely-hard man meat. 

The night became a marathon fuck-a-thon of Olympic proportions, with young Jack proving to be an exuberant and passionate and almost tireless lover. It wasn’t until an hour or so after dawn that the massively muscular young he-man was temporarily spent, collapsing happily on his back with his mammoth erection finally growing mostly limp, the flaccid penis angry-looking and distended from hours of overuse, but otherwise looking as satisfied as its owner. Handsome Jack then fell asleep with Veronica’s lovely but exhausted form draped over his. 

After the young fuck lord finally fell into a deep slumber, a tired and sore Veronica dragged herself out of the bed to put the next step of her plan in motion. She had brought a special cryo canister with her, which she’d stored in the home’s freezer, and she retrieved it now so that she could store a sample of Jack Samson’s sperm for later use. She had intended to obtain a sample just in case she didn’t get pregnant from their night of love making, or in case she wanted her child to have a sibling or two in the future. But considering the insane amount of hot, thick, and messy jizz that had pooled on the bedsheets and the floor, that was splattered across both nightstands and even sprayed across more than one wall, Veronica knew that she could harvest enough spunk to bear an veritable army of Jack’s mighty and gifted offspring! The cryo canister held a dozen sizable test tubes, and though she had originally only intended to fill just one with Jack’s seed, she decided to fill all twelve test tubes with the young man’s gloopy and gamey emissions, harvesting just a fraction of the stud fluid sprayed all over the room. Once her task was completed and the cryo canister safely stuffed into a waiting duffel bag, Veronica returned to the bed and curled up next to the slumbering hunk, letting his body’s potent heat melt away her own aches and pains, and lull her into slumber. 

The two awoke a few hours later as hunger gnawed at them both, and the pair sat naked at the dining table and broke their fast together. Veronica was surprised to discover that she’d developed strong, tender feelings for the sweet and charming and thoughtful and ridiculously handsome young man, and it was clear that he was falling head over heels for her. They talked and joked and flirted over breakfast, made passionate love on the dining room table, and then took a hot shower together, where they fucked three more times. 

Veronica knew that if she didn’t turn up pregnant at this point, then her womb must be more barren than the Sahara Desert! 

Eventually, the two got dressed, reluctant to stop being bare ass naked in each other’s company, but knowing that they had to return to their normal lives. With Jack back in his tuxedo (sans the bow tie) and Veronica in a tasteful change of clothes that she’d had the foresight to bring with her, the pair got into her rented car, and she drove him back to the university campus across town. She parked on a quiet side street, far away from any cameras, and the pair made out for another ten minutes in her car, their bodies still ravenously hungry for one another. But finally, they reluctantly disentangled themselves from each other and said their final goodbyes, Jack glancing back numerous times as he walked away toward his apartment, smiling happily at the beautiful woman who had given him a magical night he would never forget. 

As Veronica drove away, her body satiated like never before in her life, she immediately got on her cell phone and put the final phases of her plan in action. She called a professional cleaning service to perform a deep clean on the rental house — paying them extra for the unanticipated level of sticky mess that Jack had left behind — returned the rental car, came home, and stored the cryo canister in her private freezer. She then took a long, languid bath, easing away the various aches and pains from her incredible night with the impossibly handsome young college boy, bringing herself to languid and extended orgasm several more times as she remembered being held in his immensely powerful arms. 

Then she got dressed and intentionally put him permanently out of her mind, returning to her normal life as if nothing had happened. 

Her pregnancy test came back positive less than a week later, but she held off telling her husband the happy news until a full month — and more than a dozen more positive pregnancy tests — had passed, before sharing the joyous news that they were going to become parents. By then, she was even able to discover that she was carrying twins, two fraternal boys, and determine that the fetuses were perfectly healthy and developing normally. 

All was rosy in Veronica’s world for several weeks. Her loving husband doted on her more than ever, deeply excited to be welcoming children into their lives. She was happier than she’d been in a long time, eager to start this next chapter in her life. The line of inheritance would soon be secure once more. 

But then a nagging worry began to eat at her — what if Jack had children of his own some day, and what if now-widely-available genetic testing somehow discovered the link between his children and Veronica’s own children? The family’s wealth and inheritance, the very line of succession, could be in jeopardy if Jack’s potential future children ever decided to litigate for their own legitimate share of the family fortune. 

Veronica knew that she would need to take drastic measures to make sure that Jack never had any children other than those conceived in her own womb. And despite the heady mix of tender affection and unadulterated lust she felt for the stunning and surprisingly gentle young athlete, her upbringing made her choose the protection of the family name and the family money over such petty concerns as morals and love. Veronica knew that she would have to destroy the very source of Jack’s supremely potent sperm — his utterly massive and fantastically virile bollocks — in order to make sure he never sired any half-siblings to Veronica’s own children. 

Through shadowy contacts, Veronica learned of a special and very exclusive service offered by a Ms. Jessica Akers, who ran a very hush hush agency that catered to the rarefied needs of the super wealthy. For a modest fee, this agency could take care of any problems that the super rich might encounter. A philandering spouse? A boyfriend not treating your daughter right? A business partner doctoring the books and skimming money off the top? Ms. Akers and her team of associates could take care of your needs quietly and with the utmost of discretion. Veronica called the number on the business card that a friend had slyly given her, made an appointment, and manufactured a story suitable to justify targeting her one-time lover for sexecution. 

A secret part of Veronica deep down in her soul felt great sadness and remorse at ordering a hit on Jack Samson’s balls, especially since they were a truly magnificent set of bollocks and would be the source of her own precious children. But she knew that it had to be done, and so she gave the performance of her life to a sympathetic and receptive Jessica Akers… 


********


Jessica reclined in her chair just a bit, and sighed in sadness, taken in completely by Veronica’s make-believe story. “I am so very sorry that that happened to you, Ms. Daniels. Apologies — Veronica. Let me assure you that our agency offers a wide range of services to assist a woman in your, uh… circumstances. Of course, those services come at a cost. Our most basic service includes one of my men inflicting severe cock and ball torture for about an hour. As with most of our services, this is done at one of our facilities here in the warehouse district. The cost is $10,000, and includes location of the target, subduing him, and, of course, the roughing up in question, which — usually — leaves the target in excruciating pain but otherwise intact.”

A cold, iron glint entered into Veronica’s crystal blue eyes as she asked, “What is your most expensive package?” 

Ms. Akers politely cleared her throat and said, “I see. Yes, why don’t you follow me…” 

The older woman got up and walked to the door, opening it and ushering Veronica Daniels back into the hallway. After a short walk, they came to another door that opened into a very large room, which was clearly part of the original building. The walls of the room were red brick, and the ceiling rose up the full four stories of the building, the far ceiling nearly lost in darkness in the sparsely-lit room. High windows lined one long wall, letting in sparse star light, and wavy-cut foam lined large sections of the walls to make the enormous room essentially sound proofed to the outside world. On the wall next to the door was a large peg board that looked to be at least 30 feet wide, and which held a very wide variety of tools and devices. Many of these objects Veronica could readily name as implements of torture or sadomasochism, but others she had never seen before and whose use she couldn’t begin to identify. 

Large steel beams ran parallel horizontally along the full length of the large building, about 20 feet above the floor, and from these beams hung a multitude of chains and pulleys, several slings of various sizes and materials, and other pieces of bondage furniture. 

Despite her lack of experience with BDSM, Veronica recognized the room as one vast and extremely well-equipped dungeon, capable of accommodating over a dozen victims at the same time. The pretty young blond was amazed and impressed at the sight. 

“Our most intense package options are usually performed here,” Ms. Akers said as her gaze washed over the immaculate room. “I gather from our words earlier that you don’t just want Mr. Samson roughed up, do you? Our most complete package includes the castration of the target, and I have to assume that you want your young assailant castrated?” 

“Yes,” Veronica bit out the word like it tasted vile in her mouth. “But I don’t want your associates to just cut off his balls. I want him to have plenty of time to think about it. I want him to suffer.” Her words were filled with menace and venom, and she didn’t look at the older woman as she spoke, instead gazing about the room and imagining the various torture implements being used on the handsome and innocent young football star. 

Jessica continued, “The complete package does indeed include castration, like I mentioned, but this happens only at the conclusion of several hours of severe and brutal torture, most of which is focused on the man’s doomed testes. Most men who are fated to endure our complete service begin begging to be castrated after an hour or so, but the session is guaranteed to last at least two hours. If Mr. Samson passes out in the course of the torture, he will be revived, and the session will continue. I must warn you, however, that it will be quite excruciating, involving some of the worst agony that a man can feel. Are you sure that you want to order the complete package?” 

Veronica only paused for a moment before replying, her beautiful lips twisting into a wry grin, “Oh, yes. Ms. Akers. I have had weeks to think this over, and I cannot let the young brute get away with his assault. But I would like more details. What exactly do you mean by excruciating?” 

“We can, of course, accommodate most special requests, but the ‘Cadillac Plan’ begins with the abduction of your target, Mr. Samson, and his transportation to this warehouse, where he will be placed in the center of this room, stripped naked, and bound spread eagled from the chains overhead. We use i-hooks bolted into the floor and padded ankle restraints to keep the legs spread, and our pulleys and wrist restraints to spread out the arms.” Jessica pointed out the various bolts and pulleys as she spoke. 

“On the evening of your choosing, we’ll arrange for you to be somewhere public — at an event with your husband, or a night out with the girls, something like that — to provide you with the necessary alibi should anyone ever think to connect you to Mr. Samson’s abduction, torture, and castration. The target will be acquired from his home — my associates are very very good at what they do, and they usually use a gas or a sedative in the target’s food or drink to render them unconscious and docile for the trip to and from the warehouse. The dosage depends on the size of the target, of course, and from your description, Mr. Samson is a very big boy, so my men will no doubt use the maximum dose to take him down.” 

“He will arrive here unconscious, and will not wake up until he is secured and ready. After he regains consciousness, he will be left alone for some length of time, so that he can ponder his predicament and so that the fear can slowly build. Once the cold panic really starts to set in, then a team of my five best men — including my lead associate, Mitch, who you met earlier — will enter the room. They will make clear to Mr. Samson that he has been brought to this warehouse to undergo castration, and that he will suffer several long hours of torture and torment before that deed is performed and completed. That way, he will suffer the entire time with the knowledge that he will ultimately be losing his precious testicles at the end of the night.” 

Veronica’s feral grin grew wider, showing her perfect teeth, as she said, “Please continue.” 

“My men like to begin their process with a long session of electro torture. This inflicts severe pain, but does not significantly damage the testicles if done properly. We want our targets to endure extreme and prolonged psychological and physical pain to their testicles, so we don’t want their balls giving out too soon.” 

“After the electro torture, Mr. Samson will endure a wide variety of methods to inflict cock and ball abuse, but again, using methods that result in little to no permanent damage, at least not at this stage. He will also be tortured in a variety of other ways, but the focus of the torment will be on his balls.” 

Veronica was now grinning from ear to ear, with a sadistic glint in her eyes. She was so committed to her plan and so dedicated to protecting her family name and fortune, that she was starting to actually believe that the handsome and charming young college jock actually deserved this, and she was becoming more and more turned on by the description of the planned events.

“Throughout the session, Mr. Samson will also be repeatedly raw fucked by my associates. All are tall and very muscular men nearly on scale of Mitch, and I can further guarantee that all are exceptionally well hung, as I have inspected them myself. The gang rape of Mr. Samson’s ass will be another form of unmanning, and due to the exceptionally large and girthy size of my men’s appendages, it will not only be humiliating, but also very painful. My men will typically refrain from having any sort of orgasm or release for at least a week prior to one of these full package sessions, as such abstinence ensures that they are at their peak sex drive, that they will be driven to extremely brutal fucking, that their cum loads are as large as possible, and that they will be able to fuck and cum multiple times throughout the night.” 

“In time, of course, the punishments will grow progressively more brutal and intense, and the subject’s balls will begin to suffer greater and greater damage. How long the target endures intact at that point is largely a factor of how strong and tough his testicles are. But at a minimum, our agency guarantees that the target will suffer for a minimum of two hours before his testicles are completely destroyed. And to accomplish the actual nutting at the end of the session, Mitch will use his bull whip to unman the subject. He is extremely skilled in the whip’s use, and he can target objects with extreme precision. Once Mitch breaks out the whip, castration will soon follow, and the session will end.” 

“Afterwards,” Jessica continued, “the subject will be drugged once more, the remains of his scrotal sac cut away and stitched closed, and any other wounds he has suffered will be tended and dressed. We don’t commit murder here, only extra-judicial punishment, so we always make sure that the subject survives his treatment. We then bring him back to his home and place him back in bed, usually well before dawn the next day. He will then wake up on his own and begin his new life as a eunuch.” 

“Excellent, and thank you very much for the explanation,” Veronica replied. “But I am curious; what is the longest length of time that one of your subjects has lasted under such abuse?” 

Nonplussed, Ms. Akers replied, “Well, I cannot divulge too many details due to client confidentiality of course, but a few years ago we brought a particularly strong and athletic man here to our facility, and he had unusually large and sturdy balls. He lasted over four and a half hours before his castration was complete.” 

“Interesting…,” the flaxen-haired young woman said as her sharp eyes continued to scan the room, as if to memorize every detail. “Jack Samson will break that record, I can guarantee it.” 

She then turned to face Ms. Akers with a deceptively sweet expression on her face, and asked, “How much for the premium Cadillac package?” 

“The cost of this service is $250,000,” Ms. Akers replied. 

“Thank you, Jessica. That sounds perfect. I’ll just have a few minor requests of my own to add,” Veronica said, now all business.  

“Then let’s go back to my office to work out the details, the date, and method of payment,” Ms. Akers replied pleasantly, gently guiding the younger woman back into the hall and toward her office… 

Friday, March 15, 2024

In the Marines and Abroad - Part 3

Here is the final chapter of my current Marines story. I hope that you enjoy it! 

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In the Marines and Abroad - A Ball Busting Romance — Part 3

Based on an original story by Nicholas


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There was a dim light and a sense of oppressive heat as I slowly came back to consciousness. The air smelled musty and stuffy and slightly foul, as if the area wasn’t cleaned very often. I was lying on a dirty concrete floor in a large room, poorly lit by sunlight coming through dirt-encrusted windows. I could see dusty wooden crates and cardboard boxes stacked and scattered around the room, and a pile of rolled up rugs, which made me think that I was in a warehouse of some kind. I was huddled sitting up against a cinderblock wall, my wrists bound tightly together behind me with rough rope, and my ankles likewise bound in front of me. I was also completely naked except for a pair of very dirty white socks. 


Sudden recollection of our assault and capture flooded my brain, allowing me to shake off the last of the cobwebs and making my pulse quicken with fear — fear for both myself and my handsome Marine lover, Brad. I tried to call out, and discovered that I was gagged as well, a strip of dirty cloth forced into my mouth and tied tightly behind my head. I could only make muffled grunts, and I began to panic, fighting desperately against my bindings. 


The sound of another man’s muffled grunts immediately answered mine, and as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that there was another naked man bound in the room with me. And not just any man — my beautiful green-eyed muscle man, Brad! 


Unlike me, Brad was bound with actual shackles and metal chains, and he was standing upright against the wall not more than 5 or 6 feet away from me. His mighty limbs had been splayed out so that he was spread eagled, rendering all of his ferocious strength completely useless. He had been gagged as well, but it was obvious that he had regained consciousness before I had, for the look of relief on his unbearably handsome face as I woke up was profound. 


We couldn’t communicate in any meaningful way with our mouths gagged, but I could tell by the look on his concerned face that he was trying to calm and reassure me. And strangely enough, just seeing him alive and unharmed did indeed do wonders to slow my racing heartbeat. I was still terrified at not knowing where we were, who had captured us, and what they intended to do with us, but just being near Brad made me feel infinitely safer than if I had been alone. I know that sounds silly, but it’s the truth. 


Strangely, the big Marine looked more gorgeous than ever. His magnificently muscular body was covered in sweat, dirt, and grime, and he had been rendered completely helpless… and I found myself struggling to not throw an instant boner at the sight. Brad’s own massive tool was hanging down, huge and limp, stretching down at least 8 or 9 inches toward the floor. And big as his meat was, it did little to hide the enormous testicles hiding behind it. The Marine’s huge bull nuts looked just as plump and meaty and virile as I remembered them. Gone was any hint of swelling or redness from our previous lovemaking (was that only last night? could it have been more than a full day since we’d been captured?), and they looked as hale and hearty as ever, hanging impressively low due to the stifling heat. 


We both tested our restraints, proving to one another that we were well and truly immobile. We then sat back and waited, gazing longingly into each other’s eyes and wishing more than anything that we could simply hold one another. 


After about an hour or so, we heard the sound of men’s voices speaking Arabic, growing closer and closer to the single door to our room. We heard the sound of a metal key inserted into a lock followed by a loud click, and then the door swung open. Two masked guards carrying automatic weapons slung over their shoulders came into the room, followed by another man, dressed all in black. This third man had the obvious air of authority, for the two guards were clearly deferential to him. The third man was tall, and though his clothing covered everything except his face and his hands, he appeared to have a substantial body beneath his loose-fitting pants and robes. Beneath his black turban, his darkly bearded face was weathered and deeply tanned, making it impossible to judge his age — he could have been anywhere from his late 30s to his mid 50s. Perhaps his most striking feature, however, were his fierce ice blue eyes, an incongruous color for a native to this desert. 


Those cruel blue eyes fixed first on Brad, then back to me, and then back to Brad. He then barked something in Arabic to the two guards, who bowed deeply and then left the room, closing the door behind them. 


Alone in the room with the two of us, the Arab once again looked at both of us and began to speak in thickly accented but very good English. 


“You are both awake now. Good. I was not willing to wait any longer for you to revive.” 


He then stepped farther into the room until he was standing a mere arm’s length from Brad’s bound form. The swarthy man looked the handsome Marine up and down like he was assessing a farm animal, a look of sneering condescension and disgust on his face, and then said, “Your people are not welcome here. You are filthy infidels, and worse, you are Americans. It was no wonder we found the two of you lying with one another, for all Americans are degenerate pigs.” 


He then looked Brad’s enormously muscular body up and down and said, “You are a perfect example of the depravity of your people. You are obscenely muscled like one of our thoroughbred stallions — one would want to place a yoke on you and force you to plow the fields. And you possess the genitalia of some beast! No normal man would have a penis of such astounding length, or testicles that rival those of a bull! You are unnatural, the spawn of something demonic, and these hideous growths between your legs are further proof that your people consort with evil. We will therefore make an example out of you, and of anyone else who dares to invade our nation. You will be tortured, your man parts obliterated, and your broken and defiled bodies placed on display for your comrades to find. You will now feel the wrath of God, the same wrath that will befall all those who invade and defile our ancestral lands.” 


With one swift, fluid motion, the Arab thrust his knee upward directly into Brad’s loose, low-hanging nuts, crushing his massive stones up against his lean and muscular crotch. WHAM! Before Brad could even recover, the blue-eyed assailant thrust his knee upward again, and again, and yet again! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! The Arab nailed Brad’s balls with bone crushing force, striking them so hard that any other man would have been dropped to the floor in a sobbing heap, and quite possibly with a fractured set of testicles. 


But not my Brad. 


I could see the big muscles of Brad’s huge thighs quivering as the brutal ball-busting agony erupted into his guts, his cobblestone abs flexing into even more deeply etched relief, his great gulps of air making his magnificent chest heave and expand into even more extraordinary size. But at the same time and in a matter of less than ten heartbeats, his limp log of a cock grew and hardened and unfurled with incredible swiftness into a massive, throbbing, awe-inspiring erection. The Marine’s enormous schlong resembled a fleshy cannon, a thick barrel of dense meat covered in an angry tracery of gnarled veins, and sticking proudly upward at full salute. The massive organ was so engorged and hard that his foreskin was fully retracted, exposing the moist, purple-hued head of his helmet-shaped glans. 


Brad’s cheeks flushed crimson, and I would have bet that this was the very first time in his life that he had been embarrassed about becoming aroused. He just couldn’t help it — he was simply so finely tuned to testicular pain that any source of ball abuse, even torture by the enemy, was enough to cause him to instantly bone up, no matter how unwillingly. 


The Arab had a look of astonishment and disgust on his deeply tanned face, and he stumbled back a step or two at the sight of Brad’s thick 13 inches of proud Marine meat and shouted, “What is the meaning of this?! You are AROUSED by the punishment of your most sensitive and delicate of male organs!?! You Americans are even more sick and depraved than I had thought! Let us see how much you like having your manhood DESTROYED!!” 


With that, the black-garbed man stepped back and began methodically kicking Brad in the balls in the most savage and brutal assault I had ever witnessed. The man’s legs were thick and powerful, and he launched his black combat boots into Brad’s junk with frightening force, compacting them against the handsome Marine’s chiseled groin so hard that they compressed nearly halfway flat with each devastating kick. Brad was very quickly howling in pain, the gag only partially muffling the deep-throated bellows of agony as his behemoth balls were systematically hammered toward permanent sterility. 


The pain in Brad’s swelling nuts must have been unreal, but you would never have known it from looking at his cock. The Marine’s towering dick was looking so bloated and engorged that it strained the confines of its skin, wagging around violently with each beyond-brutal kick and spraying silvery strands of clear precum in all directions. It was as if Brad’s huge dick really had its own brain, its own impulses, its own destiny, and that it cared not a whit for the potential destruction of its twin companions. In fact, the threat of having his big, beefy bollocks beaten to mush seemed to arouse Brad like nothing before, for his deafening bellows were also accompanied by deep moans and groans of apparent pleasure, and he was soon starting to thrust his muscular hips forward in time to the kicks, mashing his huge balls even harder into the Arab’s swinging boots! 


I was helpless to do anything but watch as the blue-eyed Arab continued to murder my lover’s manhood. I was thrashing against my own restraints and yelling and sobbing into my gag, but the cruel Arab completely ignored me, totally intent on ruining the handsome Marine bull’s humongous balls. 


The ball-kicking abuse continued non stop for a good four or five solid minutes — an absolute eternity for both Brad and me — until the angry Arab finally paused to catch his breath. It was clear that he had never seen a victim react in such a way to testicular torture, for the look on his handsome, craggy face was one of incredulity, surprise, and not a little fear. His large chest was heaving beneath his black clothing, and the legs of his pants were painted in shiny lines of shimmering precum, having been lashed dozens and dozens of times by the clear effluvium streaming freely from Brad’s rock solid cock. 


Brad slumped temporarily exhausted in his restraints during this respite from having his balls punted into next week, and his enormous chest heaved in shuddering breaths as his mind tried to cope with the inferno of pain raging inside of his bruised and battered nuts. A fresh sheen of sweat glistened on his dirt and grease smeared skin, making his huge and chiseled muscles look even more glorious and spectacular in the dim light. His entire abdominal wall, crotch, and the fronts of his muscular thighs were heavily splattered with more of his slick and clear precum, particularly where the swollen head of his cock collided again and again with his upper abs. The buff and enormously boned Marine looked more magnificent and powerful than ever. 


His precious balls, however, were a different story. 


Brad’s enormous ovals of manhood hung down even lower than ever, sagging in their bruised and abraded scrotum after the insane amount of abuse they’d just endured. The massive organs had more than doubled in size, growing from the largest of lemons to something even bigger than a pair of extra large grapefruits! Just the great, heavy weight of those swollen testes seemed to cause Brad terrific pain, let alone the throbbing coming from the traumatized tissues themselves. Both mammoth organs were glowing an angry dark red, and the beginnings of purple bruises were already beginning to blossom all over their vast surfaces, further mottling their unhealthy color. 


An unusual look came into the Arab’s ice blue eyes, an almost timid uncertainty, and then he reached forward and grasped Brad’s face by his heavy and perfectly sculpted jawline, gently turning it from side to side and seeming to study the American’s flawlessly handsome features. He then used both hands, placing them on Brad’s large and rounded deltoids, and began slowly drawing them over the Marine’s sweat-slickened skin. The Arab seemed to be in awe of Brad’s magnificent physique, and used his callous-roughened hands to explore the smooth planes, sharp valleys, and deep striations of the young Marine’s mighty torso. The dusky-skinned man’s hands lingered for a long time on Brad’s massive pecs, and he appeared to be entranced by the stunning width and even more remarkable thickness of those twin armored plates of muscle. He tweaked the thick nubs of Brad’s arousal-hardened nipples and then began cupping and squeezing as much of that heavy hanging pec meat as he could, almost like he was fondling a woman’s breasts. 


I noticed that a sizable bulge was forming in the front of the Arab’s black pants. Our captor may or may not have been gay, but even a straight man couldn’t help but be powerfully moved by this American Adonis for his staggering masculine beauty and sheer overpowering virility. As the man’s attention was now totally focused on the bound Marine, spread like some fantastic feast before him, I began quietly struggling anew to somehow break free of my own bonds. That’s when I noticed that a segment of the cinderblock wall behind me was particularly rough with poorly poured cement, and I started to abrade the ropes at my wrists on this jagged patch of stone. I had no idea if it would be rough enough to cut through my ropes and free my hands, let alone if I could break free in time to save my Marine lover from further abuse or even castration, but I clung to the wild hope that I could somehow break free. 


Brad had recovered enough strength that he noticed the Arab’s attention as well. He lifted his handsome head and spied the bulge in the darker man’s pants, then met the man’s icy blue gaze with his own arrogant and defiant stare. He half grinned / half sneered around the dirty cloth stuffed into his mouth, looking his assailant dead in the eye as he started rhythmically flexing his magnificent pecs. The smooth planes of those heavy slabs of beef suddenly exploded with deep and grainy striations all across their wide expanse, flexing into diamond hardness even as they swelled to even greater dimensions. I had felt that incredible display beneath my own hungry hands, so I couldn’t blame the Arab for being mesmerized by the interplay of muscles beneath his calloused palms. He gripped and groped at Brad’s heaving pecs even harder than before, but now his clutching fingers couldn’t even begin to dent those granite hard muscles. 


The Arab spent several long minutes fondling and exploring Brad’s flexing pecs, his mouth slightly agape in obvious awe and admiration, and no small amount of lust. His hands then resumed their exploration of Brad’s mighty upper body, and wherever he touched, the hunky Marine flexed for him. He flexed his powerful arms as much as his shackles would allow, causing his huge bicep muscles to swell into great mounds of beef, a deep channel cutting between the bifurcation of the two heads of muscle. He flexed his lats, causing them to flare out into wide wings of thick muscle. He flexed his abdominal muscles, causing the chiseled 8-pack of cobblestone abs to bulge and swell into even greater relief, and his serratus and oblique muscles to become so shredded and striated that it seemed his skin disappeared altogether. And then he sucked in his chiseled abdominal wall into the most amazing vacuum pose I’d ever seen, pulling in his abs more than halfway to his spine! The black-clad captor seemed particularly astounded by this sight, and he placed one hand on Brad’s lowest set of abs and the other on the small of his back, measuring the ridiculously small distance between the two in obvious awe. 


But when the Arab’s hands travelled even lower, until they were clasping either side of Brad’s narrow, muscular hips, my Marine stud made a calculated error. Brad made the mistake of starting to flex his steel hard cannon of a cock. The huge, raging, 13-inch beast began to flex and throb forward and back like a metronome of hot, hard flesh, slamming into the rock solid wall of Brad’s abs over and over again with a beefy, staccato SMACK SMACK SMACK. The Arab’s eyes grew even wider with undisguised lust, but then he seemed to break out of his trance and realize that he was lusting after a revolting infidel American. His handsome, rugged face twisted into a mask of hatred and disgust, and whatever spell Brad had managed to cast on him with his overwhelming male beauty was finally broken. 


With a cruel sneer of his own, the Arab reached down with both hands to cup and grasp both of Brad’s supremely low-hanging nuts. Brad’s balls had continued to swell in the meantime, and had now left even the largest of grapefruit behind, bloating to such a massive size that even the Arab’s big hands could only grip a portion of each rotund bollock. The angry, grinning Arab began to squeeze Brad’s big balls, but gently at first, almost like he was testing ripe fruit — squeeze, release, squeeze, release, squeeze, release. Brad’s impossibly fat nuts were noticeably soft and malleable in the Arab’s hands, far more malleable than the incredibly dense and solid sex organs that I was used to. The insanely brutal barrage of sustained kicks had clearly softened up Brad’s balls and significantly weakened them. My heart began to thunder even faster at the sight, as I wondered how much damage Brad’s mighty balls might have already sustained, and if they’d already come to permanent harm. 


Then without warning, the Arab squeezed both hands as hard as he could, his clutching fingers sinking deep into those traumatized tissues. Brad threw back his head and bellowed in agony, and then began thrashing against his restraints. Such crushing abuse to his balls would have been excruciating at the best of times, but after the brutal beating that his profoundly bruised and swollen bollocks had already received, the agony Brad was feeling must have been positively inhuman! 


The Arab’s strong fingers slowly clutched deeper and deeper into Brad’s wounded and weakened balls, causing the mammoth orbs to start to warp and grossly distort in the man’s iron grip. Huge bubbles of dark red nut meat were now bulging between the Arab’s squeezing digits, and his knuckles were turning white from the strain, and yet he continued. Brad was bucking and thrashing like a man possessed, roaring and bellowing mightily as he pulled with all of his extraordinary strength against his metal shackles. 


The Arab began to twist and pull on the captive’s testes while he squeezed them, just to see what the effect would be. Brad’s handsome head thrashed around and he uttered a low moan, but there was more than a hint of sexual gratification in that moan. Like a purebred stallion mounting his last female just before being castrated. Like a prized virile bull bellowing while having his bollocks crushed at the hands of his most trusted handlers. There was something so basic and primal about this muscle man’s moaning that it was arousing the Arab as well. 


Brad somehow managed to work his gag loose and spat the spit-soaked fabric to the floor. And then, to my surprise, he began to taunt and challenge his assailant. 


“IS THAT ALL YOU’VE GOT!?!” Brad roared right in the Arab’s shocked and stunned face. “YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT!! MAUL MY HUGE NUTS!! TRY TO BREAK THESE HUGE MARINE BULL BALLS!! I CAN TAKE ANYTHING YOU CAN DISH OUT!!” 

 

The Arab soon recovered from his surprise, fury washing over his straining face, and he began squeezing even harder than ever. Brad bellowed in even greater agony, his impossibly huge bollocks distorting so much that they didn’t even look like a pair of testicles anymore. Sweat was beading on the Arab’s rugged features as he threw all of his might into cracking Brad’s huge balls, intent on bursting the melon-sized ovoids in his bare hands. But he reached a point where Brad’s ferociously strong balls refused to distort any further and resisted any additional crushing, the unnaturally dense meat becoming nearly as hard as steel beneath the Arab’s clutching fingers. He kept pulsing his grip, trying with all of his might to break those huge orbs, but all he succeeded in doing was causing his hated enemy’s obscenely large phallus to throb and pulse and leak yet more of its sticky fluid. Which I saw was starting to turn a slightly milky color. Good God, could Brad actually be approaching orgasm!?! 


“AW FUCK YEAH!!” Brad shouted. “THAT FEELS FUCKING AMAZING!! KEEP THAT UP, AND YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME FUCKING CUM!!” 


I wanted to shout to Brad to shut up, but with my mouth still firmly gagged, all I could do was scream into the tight fabric. The Marine’s words only served to infuriate the Arab even more, and the black-clad assailant violently released his crushing grip on Brad’s balls, only to choke them down to the very bottom of their scraped up and heavily bruised sac with one hand, and then began piston-fisting them with the other. 


Brad threw back his handsome head with a howl of ecstatic agony as the Arab began unloading virility-decimating punches directly into the Marine’s bloated bollocks. The furious villain held absolutely nothing back, launching full-force blows into Brad’s battered bollocks as fast and as hard as he could. The Arab’s pounding fists plunged disturbingly deep into those already heavily traumatized testicles, Brad’s balls bending and distorting grotesquely around the man’s invading knuckles as their remaining strength was steadily hammered out of them. My beautiful Marine bull had already endured enough abuse to annihilate another man’s balls a dozen times over, but I feared that even his herculean huevos couldn’t take much more. I worked even more feverishly at trying to sever the ropes binding my wrists, but I dreaded that I wouldn’t be able to break free fast enough to save whatever was left of my handsome lover’s fantastic balls. 


The level of violence and brutality being unleashed on Brad’s big balls was beyond inhuman, and tears were streaming down my cheeks as I watched my handsome Marine’s manhood get massacred. But my brave and proud Marine just kept on barking at his cruel captor, shouting taunts and encouragement in equal measure, his lust-roughened voice sounding even deeper and more resonant than usual. I suddenly realized that Brad’s cock was swelling even larger, if that was possible, the thick veins running all up and down that colossal shaft bloating even bigger as the entire pillar of male muscle began to quiver and shake. Incredibly, beyond all possible reason, my sexy Marine stud was hurtling toward orgasm! 


“OKAY, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!” Brad bellowed at his Arab captor. “GET READY FOR IT, CUZ I’M ABOUT TO BLOW MY FUCKING LOAD!!!” 


True to his word, my Brad finally hit his nut, and he began unleashing a load unlike anything I’d ever seen before. 


The first, utterly massive wad of spunk shot out of Brad’s cock with the force of a howitzer, and struck the Arab full in the face. The extreme power and volume of that first shot literally knocked the man’s head sharply backwards, completely coating the Arab’s face with the stud’s trademark ultra thick and gloopy splooge. The shocked Arab immediately released Brad’s tortured nuts and stumbled backwards, but remained directly in the line of fire as the hunky Marine continued to unleash his mammoth load all over him. The Arab turned his head away, shouting in dismay and raising up both arms in a protective stance as his body was lashed over and over and over again by enormous ropes and streamers of prime white hot American stud spunk. Even I, who had seen the super human volumes of Brad’s typical cum loads, was rendered temporarily paralyzed and speechless as I witnessed the ferocious power, violence, and insane volume of Brad’s record-shattering ejaculation. 


The Arab had fallen to the floor, covering his shellacked face with his hands and crying out in shock, terror, and revulsion as Brad’s monstrous load continued to rain down on him in thick, sticky ropes and enormous clotted blasts. I lost count of how many slugs of cum shot out of my lover’s gargantuan horse cock, but he must have jettisoned at least two dozen massive shots before his orgasm even BEGAN to slow down, and then pump out easily another dozen or more steadily diminishing blasts before his godlike orgasm finally ratcheted to a shuddering close. 


It looked like the squirming Arab and the entire floor around him had been doused in several GALLONS of impossibly thick and chunky stud spew, and the heady reek of Brad’s man muck was overpowering. The horrified Arab struggled to his knees and then began scraping big wads of the Marine’s clotted cream off of his face, his eyes stinging mightily from the sludge that had flooded his ice blue orbs. He coughed and sputtered, spitting out mouthfuls of tangy and salty nut juice that had dripped unwanted into his gasping mouth. His black clothes were damn near soaked with the stuff, and the cement floor around him looked positively slippery with sperm. 


Brad’s mighty chest was heaving like he’d just run a marathon, and his brutalized bollocks looked even worse than ever, but the brave and defiant Marine just began chuckling, laughing at the sight of his vile captor squirming on the ground and scraping the splooge off of him. His laughter only made the sperm-drenched Arab more angry, of course, and the furious man leapt to hit feet and began screaming at the bound Marine. 


“INFIDEL!!!” he roared. HOW DARE YOU ASSAULT ME LIKE THAT!?! AND HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY SHOOT SUCH A MASSIVE QUANTITY OF SPERM!?! IT IS PROOF!! PROOF THAT YOU AMERICANS ARE DEMON SPAWN!! FOR ONLY A DEMON COULD CUM LIKE A FIREHOSE!!” 


The Arab took several menacing steps forward, his face flushed with fury and his fists shaking at his side. “For this affront against God, these demonic seed pods of yours must DIE!!”


For all that my brave Marine had already endured, for all the abuse that had been unleashed upon his long suffering balls up to that point, nothing compared to the all out assault that the Arab now directed at Brad’s bloated, battered, and nearly broken balls. He grabbed ahold of Brad’s narrow, sweat-slickened hips and used them as leverage as he began to brutally knee the hunky Marine in the crotch. The knee blows were easily as powerful as his previous kicks, and even more effective, for the man’s thigh trapped Brad’s testes against the solid wall of his crotch and didn’t allow them to squeak out of the way, forcing them to absorb every ounce of the nut-cracking blows. Over and over and over again, the Arab hammered away at the bellowing American’s mammoth bollocks, making it his personal goal to shatter the Marine’s tough stones and deflate his gigantic bull cock forever. 


With all the force he could muster, the Arab continued pounding at Brad’s naked puds. Over and over and over, the man’s black-clad thigh smashed into the two battered and beyond-bloated spheres of delicate, tender flesh that made Brad a bonafide Alpha Male stud bull of the very highest caliber. Brad’s balls were looking dangerously mushy, as they were being crushed dramatically flat against his muscular groin with each devastating blow, and they were swelling even LARGER, if that was even possible! 


The Arab then started changing things up, alternating between annihilating knee raises, pulverizing punches, and family-line-ending kicks, all coming as fast as possible from every conceivable angle, and without giving Brad’s screaming balls even a moment to recover between blows. Most brutal of all, the Arab would slam the heel of his combat boot into the Marine’s sagging nuts, pinning them to the wall behind them and crushing them dangerously flat each time. The howls of animal agony Brad would bellow with each of these boot stomps made my very core twist and clench, his mushy balls gruesomely compacting as flat as thick, blood red hamburger patties against the immovable concrete wall. 


Sickening squishing noises were now coming from Brad’s rapidly failing balls with each brutal strike, and I thought I could hear faint crunching sounds as well. Brad’s titanic testicles were being slaughtered right before my very eyes, and there was nothing I could do to save them! My handsome Marine’s mighty man orbs were being redlined past all possible endurance, and I knew that at any moment, the Arab would land that fateful, final blow that would spell the inevitable and permanent destruction of my lover’s magnificent balls. 


Suddenly and without warning, Brad hit his second orgasm, and began unleashing a flood of semen that was just as powerful and intense and massive as his first load, and perhaps even more so! Brad’s massive cock was belching out enormous slugs of cum like there was no tomorrow, plastering both of their heaving, struggling bodies with his beyond-copious manly emissions. It was as if the Marine’s mighty loins were being defiant right up to the very end, showering the enemy in a final, majestic load of bull jizz even as his bollocks were being shattered into oblivion. For his part, the fury and lust crazed Arab didn’t even seem to notice, even as his body was pelted with blast after enormous blast of the American’s hot and sticky cum. 


Unnoticed by either man, a sharp snap sounded as the ropes binding my wrists finally broke, freeing both of my arms. I worked furiously to untie my legs, and even as I did so, I saw the Arab draw a large, curved knife from a sheath at his waist. Almost in slow motion, I saw him roughly grab the neck of Brad’s elongated scrotum in his free hand and pull it violently forward, very nearly nutting the bucking and braying and cum spraying Marine in the process, and then he raised the blade in his other hand and prepared to make the single slice that would part Brad’s swollen bollocks from his body forever. 


I sprang into action, leaping onto the Arab from behind and grappling with him, grabbing both of his arms and trying to prevent him from making that fateful slice. The man was fearsomely strong, and I had been bound at wrist and ankle for hours, so it was a ferocious struggle. I managed to force the Arab backward, but he refused to loose his grip on Brad’s battered testicles, stretching them farther and farther away from my lover’s straining groin. Farther than any man’s balls could possibly stretch. And then farther still! I was certain that at any moment, we would both tumble backwards as Brad’s balls finally ripped free, unable to take any more stretching!


With a powerful lunge, I grabbed the Arab’s right wrist, the one holding the dagger, and twisted the blade toward the grunting and struggling man. And then with a strength borne of pure desperation, I plunged that dagger towards us, impaling the blade to the hilt into the Arab’s big chest. 


The man froze in place for several long moments, a look of utter surprise in his icy blue eyes as he suddenly released Brad’s hideously overstretched balls. And then he fell like a puppet whose strings have been cut, dead even before he hit the floor. 


As I stood upright, I felt slugs of hot, slick fluid lashing at my body, and I was to my utter amazement that Brad was STILL cumming, pumping out what HAD to be the largest cum load of any creature, man or beast, in world history!! 


I tore the gag from my mouth and rushed forward to embrace my love, wrapping my strong arms around his muscle-girded torso and passionately kissing his beautiful lips. Brad was as passionate as I was, trying to devour me through my mouth, even as his humongous cock, trapped between our naked and sweaty bodies, lashed us with the remainder of his thick and gloopy cum, gluing our bodies together with his seminal juices. 


Though I could have kissed him forever, I knew that we might only have a little time before the guards came in to check on their leader, so I broke our embrace and started working feverishly to unchain my Marine bull. As exhausted and spent as he was, Brad managed to stand on his own two feet, though he kept his legs widely spread to allow his testicles to hang freely and not bump against his thighs. My remarkably resilient lover even took the time to joke. 


“I was wondering when you’d get around to rescuing me, Russ!” Brad said with a teasing grin and a chuckle. “I was trying to distract and occupy our Arab here for as long as I could, hoping that you’d find a way to break free.” 


“I’m sorry that you had to suffer so much, Brad!” I replied, tears still fresh in my eyes. “It was a very near thing! I didn’t think I was going to break free in time before he pulverized your big nuts into mush!” 


“Heh, good thing I got such a tough set o’ stones, right?” Brad said, winking at me and smiling even bigger than before. “That’s by far the worst beating my balls have ever gotten, but I sure am proud of my big boys, for they didn’t break! In fact, that damn Arab was about to cheat at the end and simply cut off my big nuts instead! I could have gone at least a few more rounds with him.” 


Brad chuckled at his own dark humor as I knelt down in a pool of his cooling sludge to inspect Brad’s balls. I was horrified at what I saw. The stud’s normally the-largest-of-lemon-sized spuds had now swollen to the size of extra large ostrich eggs, damn near four times their normal mass, and their entire surface was almost a uniform vibrant purple of deep and penetrating bruising. With quivering hands, I gently cupped the mammoth organs, eliciting a hiss of pain from the stoic Marine, and carefully poked and prodded and squeezed both bloated orbs. Both of Brad’s orbs were exceedingly soft and squishy, disturbingly so, but I couldn’t find any actual cracks or ruptures in the gigantic testes. My mighty Marine’s titanic testicles had indeed somehow defied breaking under the most intense abuse I could have ever imagined! I knew that only time would tell if Brad had taken a serious hit to his awesome virility after the prolonged and inhuman abuse… but if the size of his second cum load was any indication, I strongly suspected that my handsome and fantastically tough Marine would make a full recovery. 


If we could escape this hell hole. 


Brad was simply too muscular, and his bollocks swollen too freakishly big, for him to fit into any clothing. And besides, the only clothes we had were the cum-drenched clothes on the dead Arab, so those were unusable anyway. So completely naked but for our dirty socks, and armed only with the bloody dagger, we sought to make our escape. We placed a stack of wooden crates beneath one of the high windows, and then I climbed on top and used the knife to jimmy open the lock. The warped frame would only open part way, but it was wide enough for even Brad’s muscular form to squeeze through, if only barely. 


Outside, it was late afternoon, and we were in the middle of some dry and dusty neighborhood. We dropped quickly to the hot and sandy dirt outside the window, and then began to search for a way out of there, keeping to the shadows and trying our best not to be seen. The tale of our escape through insurgent-controlled streets was a harrowing one, and we were nearly caught several times, but through luck and skill we arrived back at the outskirts of our base a few hours after dark. 


We no doubt made for quite a sight as we approached the gates — both of us naked and sweaty and caked with dirt, and with Brad’s still monumentally swollen gonads swinging huge and heavy between his muscular legs — but we were finally safe and welcomed back as heroes. It turned out that we were the only two soldiers captured in that fateful raid, and that they had only targeted our guard tower. No one else had even been injured in the abduction, and the Marines on base had gone crazy wondering where we were and how they might find us. They had already feared the worst, so our unexpected and unheralded return was met with jubilation. 


We were both rushed to the infirmary, where the doctors ordered Brad to stay for a week of evaluation and recovery while his battered bollocks slowly returned to their normal size and color. And I stayed with Brad throughout his recovery. 


In the same bed. 


The secret was already out now that we were lovers, so it wasn’t like there was anything to hide at that point. Nor did anyone care. And I was able to prove over the course of that week, many multiple times, that my beautiful Marine bull Brad hadn’t lost a single ounce of his magnificent virility!