Thursday, September 22, 2016

(M/M) In the Marines and Abroad, Part 2 - NEW!

So here's the second part of the Marines series. I have ideas for a part 3 and 4 and perhaps at some point I'll get them on paper. In the mean time here's what I thought up today. Remember, the idea for this story is more about romance than ballbusting, so unlike most of my stories it doesn't end with a bursting. Otherwise, enjoy!
In the Marines and Abroad - Part 2
Now that we had an official relationship, all Brad and I had to do was find the time and the privacy to pursue it, and that . . . . was not easy. Our base was crawling with troopers, at all hours of the day and in all areas. Privacy was practically nill. So for the first few weeks after our "truck liaison" we had to settle for lots of sack tapping.
At breakfast, lunch and dinner I would get random guys to give a light flick to Brad's crotch as they were passing by him. There he would be, getting some food when all of a sudden a quick, light slap would fly to his groin and make him clutch himself. No one else knew the significance of this, but it sort of became a "thing" in the company. When bored, give ol' Brad a quick sack tap to liven things up. And what's interesting is, he never tried to make eye contact with the person who tapped him. His eyes always came looking for me. And there I'd be, sitting down watching and waiting for my emissary to sack tap the man that I loved and lusted after. And I wouldn't just be watching him, I'd be watching his crotch. And, yup, every time he was tapped his cock swelled in his cammo pants. No one else noticed it, of course, but I did. I loved watching his fat monster swell and become rigid with fluid. It always made him sit down to eat awkwardly, as if having his pole strain against the fabric of his underwear and cammos made bending at the waste difficult and uncomfortable.
Since we couldn't make love with our bodies, we had to settle for making love with our eyes. At meals we would always sit apart but facing each other so that we could stare into each other's eyes while we ate. Every spoon of mashed potatoes was a kiss to his lips. Every swallowed greenbean was my mouth on his cock, sucking in his length. Every tongue across a spoon after a bite of peach cobbler was my tongue plunging into his hole, giving him the rimjob of a lifetime. And so we'd sit in silence, staring at each other from across the room while everyone else talked and joked and banged on about this and that. We were two heavenly bodies caught in each other's gravity amidst a sea of oblivious stars, circling around us.
Our big break came about three weeks after our initial sex. We were both assigned to the monitoring center located on the top floor of the only real building on base. It was a circular room filled with monitors and communication's equipment and it was the only place on base that did not, itself, have cameras. Not only that, but we were to be the only two people in there AND the doors could be locked from the inside. And we were set to monitor between 12 am and 5 am, when most of the rest of the troops would be asleep, quietly nestled in their bunks. It was all too perfect.
On the day of our monitoring duty we both had hardons all day long, and I personally sack tapped Brad three times, just so I could cop a feel, no matter how brief, of his mighty weapon. With our hormones all pent up and the expectation of hot sex that night you can be sure I was dripping baby batter all day long, through exercise drills, through showers, through guard duty, I was leaking like a mofo. They say that anticipation is half the pleasure, but for me it had the sweet pain of a broken tooth because my whole body and libido was straining against the constraints of societal bonds, bonds which prevented red blooded American's like me from having raunchy gay sex in the middle of the barracks in broad daylight amidst a sea of heterosexual guys who would probably throw up at even the idea of gay sex.

After a day of agonizing repression, 11:45 pm rolled around and both Brad and I showed up for the shift change in the monitoring room. Our marine base was crawling with cameras, eyes peering down to monitor all activity both within and without. Activity that was recorded and archived so that no enemy could infiltrate our base without someone knowing. We had guards on duty 24/7 at all entrances of the base and roving squads of men with German Shepard's patrolling the perimeter. And inside the monitoring center there were dozens of LED screens watching all of it happen. Our job, that night, was to keep an eye on everything and make sure the base was secure and safe. However, in both our minds was the notion that the likelihood of enemies choosing just this night and just our shift to launch an attack was slim to none, and therefore would could instead enjoy our privacy and pay little attention to the many monitors in the room.
When we got there, Leone and Travis were just writing down notes in the log about what had occurred on their shift, something Brad and I would have to do as well. They barely looked up from their writing until the clock hit midnight after which they were free to leave. They both nodded at us and Leone said in a loud voice, "The base is secure. Have a good shift, boys." gave Brad a friendly punch to the shoulder and left. A good shift? I think that was definitely something that could be arranged.
When the other two men had left we waited for about five minutes to make sure no one else came along to check on us, then Brad locked the door and stripped of his shirt. I stripped off mine, and I pushed him up against a wall and began to kiss him passionately, our dog tags clinking against one another. Then, knowing how much he loved nut-pain, I began to jerk my knee between his legs, slamming his swollen package against my knee-cap. He responded by grinding his nuts into my knee and practically swallowing my tongue, so eager was he to consume me. Then he threw his head back, "Oh, yeah, Oh yeah, fuck my nuts up, Russ. Give it to me good." I was pounding his potatoes for all I was worth, and he loved every minute of it. I could see his eye's roll back and his breathing become deep as he surrendered to each knee jab, each thigh slam, and it made him moan, lightly.
However I longed to feel his dick in my mouth, so eventually I stopped kneeing him and kneeled in front of him as he stood there, pressed against the wall. I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, and pulled his pants and underwear down. His gorgeous cock popped into view, and his two swollen nuts hung below. I grasped his balls and began to squeeze them while I sucked his dick into my mouth and began to piston up and down on it. This time he was leaking precum, no doubt due to the pounding I'd just given his nuts, and it was heaven. That sweet musky taste/smell that, for me, added such a dimension to sex with a guy. That sticky sweet taste coated my lips and tongue and I savored it. Meanwhile I dug my thumbs into his testicles, making him moan and sweat. I also loved the way his pubes tickled my nose as I deep throated his cock. He had a lovely little treasure trail and small patch of hair above his cock. The rest of his muscular body was as smooth as a baby's bottom, and that was just perfect.
I could feel his body tense and pulse with my oral activities and I relished it. I loved kneeling before my putative boy friend so that I could suck on his thick meat. And I could tell he was loving my thumbs pressing into his giant orbs. But eventually he pushed me away, no doubt not wanting to bring a premature closure to the evening with a premature ejaculation. He was breathing heavily as he walked towards the center of the room and began to untie his shoelaces and take his combat boots off. I also undressed until I was only in my socks and walked over to where he'd sat in the main chair in the center of the room. I straddled his now mostly naked body and sat on his lap, his cock rubbing up against mine, and I kissed him. With longing, with pent up passion, with a feverish sort of frenzy as I was about to give myself to this man who I'd drooled over for more than a year.
Between kisses I whispered into his sex-flushed ear. "I knew this was going to happen so I cleaned myself out today and haven't eaten anything for two days. And . . ." I said holding up a small tube, "I brought lube." He grinned, and I grinned back and we kept kissing. I pressed my woody against his and let our cock juices mingle, for he was oozing prejack as much or more than mine was. Things were getting slippery and hot. I stopped kissing him and lubed up his dick and stood up, legs on either side of the chair. With my left hand I grasped his rigid rod and with great care guided it into my hole. My hungry, eager hole. Very carefully I sat down on his dick, and all he could do was sigh with pleasure. Just as slowly and carefully I lifted myself back up, but not so far that his dick popped out, and ever so gently I began to ride his dick. Up and down, up and down. I could feel his cock-head massage my prostate. I could feel his penis fill up my gut, and I loved it. Sure having a dick up your ass feels like you're taking a dump, but that tingle from the prostate makes it all worthwhile, and the romance of riding a man you love and feel passionately about also makes it all worthwhile. I rode his cock for a good twenty minutes, with the two of us staring into each other's eyes. And yes, there was some pain, but it was a good pain, and yes I made sure to go slowly enough that he didn't cum, because I wanted that night to last as long as possible. And so I rode him. My man, my hot sexy man.
But Brad, in the end (insert joke), simply couldn't get off without nut pain, and that's a hard thing to accomplish when you're riding a man, so I let his dick pop out of me and kneeled in front of him. And I wanted to find some ways of causing him pain that didn't involve percussion. While he sat there, naked and cock glistening with my ass juices I pulled out his nuts and then sucked them into my mouth. I began to suck on them really hard and at the same time pressed them with my tongue. Brad sucked in his breath and then let it out with a hiss. This was clearly pained he was not expecting nor was used to. Then I switched to popping his balls between my molars - squeezing down and then letting them up. I could actually feel his tortured nuts swell. They were filling up my mouth, and I was brutalizing them. I could feel Brad's naked body twitch with each chomp and each squeeze. But his dick? Never once deflated. I could feel it pressed against my forehead as I buried my face in his crotch. With great vigor I sucked, squeezed and even twisted and pulled on his whole nut-sack until I'd turned my man in a sweaty, moaning bag of meat. When I finally tired of abusing his eggs I stood up and then pressed my knee into his sack, grinding them into the hard plastic seat of the chair. This caused literal geysers of precum to erupt from his piss-slit. Huge geysers. Which coated his dick and my thighs. Brad was moaning, "Fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh shit, SHIT."
But again, I didn't want it to go too far, and so I stopped, sat down in the chair opposite of him, and let him suck me off for a while. He seemed equally as happy to do so, and I enjoyed it. With my balls he was gentle. He gentle held them and tugged on them a little, and I meanwhile instructed him on how to suck a dick properly. I showed him how to make his hand an extension of his mouth, how avoid scraping the cock with the teeth and how to get a really good suction because suction is where it's at when it comes to dick sucking.
Our sexual escapades went on for about two hours as we took turns pleasuring each other, me abusing him, and him being gentle with me, until at last we each came, him inside me and me on his chest. We did our best to time things, and we came almost at the same time.
As we sat together, kissing gently, I murmured in his ear that I loved the thought of a bit of him would be inside me for the rest of the week and he chuckled. Our sweaty bodies, laying gentle together, surrounded by blinking lights and crackling radios and moving images.
"Well," he said finally, "I think we've had a good shift. Perhaps we'd better get some work done, otherwise someone might get wise."
"OK." I said, looking around, "Now where'd I drop my shirt?"

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Interesting Queerty Article on Castration

This is an interesting article about a guy who voluntarily got castrated. He says it's exciting and whereas before the surgery he only had sex with women, now he wants to bottom for guys.

Who knew!


Monday, August 22, 2016


This blog is about both female/male and male/male ballbusting and testicle torture (BB/TT). I have 78 original stories plus a handful written by other people. Most of the stories you will find if you go to the Blog Archive listing on the right and go to the 2013 menu, and then go to June and July. That's where I did all the reposting when my other site closed. Go through the full list to see other month's/year's stories.

Looking at the body of my work, most stories are f/m of one variety or another, and that's because although I identify as gay, I actually prefer to write and read f/m stories. Currently I try to alternate between f/m and m/m stories (more or less).

Most stories don't have pictures associated with them, and that's because I rarely have a real life person in mind when I create characters, plus I like people to plug in their own mental image of what a guy or girl's character looks like.

I have a wide variety of stories that include many different fetishes, scenarios and participants. You just have to search for them.

I also encourage everyone to comment on stories and start conversations. I almost always respond to comments.

Hope that's helpful.



Tuesday, August 9, 2016

(FM/m) Hahreem Part 2 - NEW!

Part 2 of the Hahreem series. Hope it pleases.


Hahreem Part 2


Xeiva lounged languidly on her dais, a gilded throne with cushions heaped on it so that she could lie down instead of sit. On either side were two handsome guards and at her feet, equally languid was her pet leopard - a muscular cat with dangerous teeth and beautiful  green eyes.


Xeiva was dressed in a silk shift with an overlay of satin, she had a beautiful nose ring and an emerald anklet with jeweled sandals on her gorgeous feet, small and delicate. She had previously ordered a servant to go and finally fetch the young Jahmine Temujin, former king of Roihas. It had been three months, and by now, the Empress was sure that he had sufficiently "conditioned" for being her servant, nee slave. The cleverness of the thing was that inserted into her male hahreem  were specially trained servants whose job it was to brain wash its members into linking pain with pleasure. It was their duty to make sure that each new male was able to expect, enjoy and savor pain by linking it intimately with sexual ecstasy. As Jahmine was brought into the room, Xeiva could see traces of the hardening torture that he had endured and now, presumable, expected in his new life. In his eyes she could see conflicting emotions but his body language was still defiant. Since his incarceration he had bulked up, his head was almost shaved and had some new scars and bruises on his person, but he was no less handsome for them.


"Well now, let's have a look at you." Xeiva got up and circled her new sex slave, a man built of royal flesh and royal ego but now no more than a sexy play toy for his mistress. He was clad only in a leather jock strap and his bulge, even now, was impressive. Xeiva let her eyes drift over his muscles, his perfect male form and his ample assets. So wonderful, so impressive, but she must see where his loyalties now lay.


She whispered into his ear from behind, "Spread your legs for me, slave." She could see his head drop a bit. Presumably his eyes had closed and he was processing her request. Stiffly his legs widened.


"Good. Now, beg me to kick your privates."


Haltingly, softly he murmured "Kick me, great mistress."


"Why what a sweet thing to offer." She stood in front of him and then smashed her jeweled foot into his big bulge. The bulge jiggled madly and Jahmine coughed a bit. "You see," she said. "It's not all that difficult to please me. Come and sit with me, and we shall be entertained." Xeiva clapped her hands as she lay down and the chamber orchestra started up a lively tune, while male and female dancers capered and cavorted in front of them. This went on for a while until Shan, Xeiva's leopard began to seem restless. Xeiva snapped her fingers and motioned for her chamberlain. "Shan is hungry. Send in a feeding slave."


The "feeding slave" turned out to be a well muscled, oiled naked man with a huge set of wedding tackle swinging between his legs. The man loped in and then went and kneeled before the cat, presenting his cock and balls to the beast. The leopard immediately began to lick the man's cock and balls until the man developed an erection. Then, the slave began to stroke his woody while the cat licked his heavy balls. LICK LICK LICK, STROKE STROKE STROKE. The feeding slaved moaned loudly and Jahmine could also see his dick-head swelling. He was close. Just as he was about to cum, he rubbed the big cat's mouth with his cock so that Shan would accept it, and the man ejaculated down the cat's throat. The big leopard purred deeply at this. Then, while the man became quite still, the cat began to chew on the man's big dick, first gnawing off the man's purple helmet and then further down until it had eaten the man's whole penis. Then it started licking the man's ballsack and chewed an opening on each side so that the testicles could drop through. The man's head was thrashing, but his body remained still. The leopard began to chew on first the man's larger left testicle until it had been completely consumed, and then it started on the right one. Everyone close to the pair could hear the cat's canine's piercing ball-flesh with a crisp "snap". Then it chewed the tough man oyster until it was gone. The man collapsed, moaning, and several other strong slaves gathered him up and carried him away, to be sent to the salt mines like all the other used up slaves.


Xeiva clustered around her pet and stroked its head while it purred and licked its lips. While its mouth was still limed with the remnants of the man's baby-makers, Xeiva coaxed the leopard up and she spread her own legs. The cat began to lick her snatch, which was wet from having watched the slave's emasculation. Shan's rough tongue made her tingle all over and this pussy on pussy action continued until she had experienced several juicy orgasms.


"If only you men had tongues like that," murmured Xeiva as the cat resumed its place on the dais. "Do you see, Jahmine, how all here serve my pleasure?" There was a dubious look in his eyes. "Don't worry, you will, soon enough." she said to him.


"Tomorrow," she continued, "We will hold a Crush-ball game and you will pleasure me while it goes on. That is all, for now, you may leave me." Xeiva motioned slightly and two guards came and led Jahmine back to the hahreem.


The next day found Jahmine summoned not to the throne room, but instead to the amphitheatre at the back of the hahreem. Tier up on tier was host to hundreds of men, and there was a special box set up at about dead middle where Xeiva would be. Jahmine was dragged along by his "escort" until they'd reached the box. Inside was the Empress, reclining on a mound of pillows with four males already attending to her. Some were massaging her feet, others were giving her a manicure, But Jahmine would be servicing, well, her feminine parts, he assumed. He didn't know what a "Crush-ball game" was nor had he spent much time pleasuring women. Usually the woman was pleasuring him, so this would be a new experience.


"Come young king, lay between my legs and have a 'let's meet' with my fertile valley. I will direct your progress." Jahmine did as instructed and got face to face with her hairless slit. The thing smelled of jasmine and was already dripping in anticipation of what was to come - brutal ballbusting in the ring. Jahmine started to lap at her snatch while the other men offered their balls to Xeiva to fondle while she watched. She had a set of balls in each hand, and one set each between her toes. The amphitheatre darkened and a man walked to the center of the floor. He was the announcer.


"Tonight we have the defending champion, David of Arganoth who has won seven consecutive victories, pitted against a new boy, Peter of Gath. The rules are simple. Whomsoever is able to land three separate strikes against the opponent's balls wins, and gets to destroy the other man's bits and pieces as he desires. The participants will be naked except for boots and the will each be issued a bat with which to brutalize their opponent. Please Welcome DAVID," and the crowd cheered. David was a 6'10" man with a ripped body and sandy blond hair. His blue eyes surveyed the crowd and he nodded acknowledgement of his accomplishments but refused to be overly drawn out by them.


"And tonight's newest participant, PETER!" Peter turned out to be a shortish young man with a gymnast's body and light brown hair, cut short. Both men were naked, oiled and carrying their bats. The bats were like staves which had each end wrapped in white cloth so that bludgeoning damage could be dealt without breaking bones or the skin. The bats looked like huge Q-tips. The two combatants faced off in the center of the sand covered floor, and the announcer exited, stage left. A hush fell over the crowd. Then Xeiva's voice could be distinctly heard, "Let the battle begin, boys!"


The two males circled each other, each looking for a sign of weakness to exploit, each trying to anticipate the other's first moves. It began when Peter aimed a blow at David's head which David blocked with one end of his bat and followed up a repost at Peter's left knee, hoping to make the thing buckle. Peter dodged aside and they resumed circling.


Next David launched a series of hits, coming at all angles, to destabilize his opponent and catch him off guard. It worked slightly as Peter had to deflect so many hits, and when his arms were raised to deflect blows coming to his head, it left his crotch open and WHAM David's bat caught him squarely in the nads. First point scored for David. The men retreated to opposite sides of the stage to regroup. Peter had one hand between his legs, nursing his nuts, while David strode confidently back to the center stage for round two.


This time Peter kept his head low, by semi-crouching. David was unperturbed. He circled Peter while Peter merely pivoted in place. His über defensive position although a seeming safe bet, would not prevent the destruction of his two most prized possessions. David made a false move, apparently aiming a blow at Peter's right arm, but then switched at the last minute to hit Peter's left hand - to smash the finger's holding his bat. It was a direct score and Peter dropped the left side of his bat in surprise and pain. David swatted the young man's right hand and in seconds Peter's bat was on the sandy floor. David had an open field and with a SMACK cracked his bat right between Peter's legs to peg the guy's soft balls. Peter folded instantly into a ball of abject pain, hands between his legs, and in the fetal position. Second point to David.


Jahmine, meanwhile was lapping away at Xeiva's jasmine scented snatch. It wasn't half bad, he thought to himself. The Empress was moaning and writhing while she watched the game through half-closed lids. She was squeezing the ball-bags in her hands, pushing her toes into the ones at her feet, and pressing her pelvis up to drown her young king's face into her perfectly formed crevice.


It was minutes before Peter could get back on his feet. By now he was sweating, both from pain and from anticipation. He obviously was reevaluating his game plan as he was only one point away from losing. He now appeared to be going all offensive. Hopping in place and moving back and forth to provide a moving target to his much larger opponent. David took it all in stride and was unruffled. Peter let loose with a flurry of volleys all of which David successfully blocked. David returned the favor with a series of blows followed up by a full force smash with his bat which knocked his enemy off to the side, but before David could use that to his advantage, Peter jumped up and recentered himself.


The crowd meanwhile, was going nuts. An all male group, each guy was naked, pumped and hard. At lot of the guys were giving each other hand jobs while they watched the action, and a few were even giving head. Each time a point was scored the audience went wild with cheering and whoops and glee. They couldn't wait for David to nut this little punk, and for their Empress to get off on it.


Peter appeared to be slightly injured from his fall, and had a limp as he moved as far out of range of David as he could. David followed, his massive form towering over Peter. This would be his end. David aimed a jab of the pointed end of his bat straight at Peter's chest. Peter blocked with his left side up. But David used the momentum of the thrust to turn in place and like an action/reaction experiment brought about a repost to Peter's left side, smashing the young man's left side with a two handed hit. This was followed by a tremendous blow to Peter's right temple, and a final blow to Peter's left hip. The boy went down, and David went in for the kill. As the boy's body hit the sands his legs opened and his balls became the main target. WHAM David smashed his opponents' balls into the sand. Peter immediately sat up, and then vomited from the pain. David raised his arms in triumph and the crows roared it's approval. The rules of the game were quite clear, David now got to neuter his opponent in any way he saw fit to. David motioned for the assistants, who hovered just outside the ring, to bind Peter's hands and blind fold him, which they did, then they set the young man on his knees. Peter's cock and balls hung down and were ready for their own demise. David decided he was going to kick the boy's balls into mush, and that's exactly what he did, He stood behind the boy, launching kick after toe kick to the hanging huevos The crowd was milking its collective hardon for all its worth and Xeiva was eager to hear Peter's nuts go "SQUISH".


WHAM WHAM WHAM. Peter was drooling onto the sand and couldn't believe that ten minutes ago he was whole man, but now was doomed to the life of a neuter. To be sent off to the salt mines of Adaban like all the other used up hahreem slaves. WHAM WHAM WHAM more and more punts to the dangling cahones, until with a superbly placed kick by David, first one, then the other nut exploded in its sack SPLAT, and Peter was a man no more. Everyone in the crowd came, and so did the Empress, her body shuddering with ecstasy. Once more David had pleased her with a victory, and he would be rewarded with gifts and gold and servants, marking him as the Empress's favorite minion. Jahmine nearly choked on the flood of juices which coated both his tongue and his face, and he felt Xeiva's hands come up and force his face ever deeper into her. She came again, and then again, while the crowd was stroking the last dribbles of cum from their dicks. Finally there was moment of stillness, as everyone relaxed into bliss.


Xeiva looked down at Jahmine. "Very good, my young king. You have pleased me, and pleased me well. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. Or perhaps I should pit you against David, to see how good your battle experience is. Would you like that, young king, to be humiliated in front of a group of men? And to feel your balls explode for my pleasure? Well, we will see. Your career in my hahreem has just begun!"

Friday, June 17, 2016

(f/m) Highschool: Socks'n'balls - NEW!

So here's the story I submitted to Knaves story contest. He gave me permission to post it on my site, and since the contest is over, I thought I'd post it now. It's short, and sweet and has lots of fuzzy socks in it.

Hope it pleases,



Highschool: Socks'n'balls


Diana and Chris had been dating for about two years now, since sophomore year, and in that time they had grown together as they learned about what it meant to be in a stable relationship. While their peers were switching partners every three weeks, Diana and Chris were learning how to compromise, trust, let go and renew their love day by day by day.


Diana's issues were centered around which college she should ultimately go to and what career she should be seeking, while Chris was working on his athletics (and whether he could get to the Rio Olympics in track and field), and overall identity as a person. Part of that identity was sex and Chris had two things he wanted to explore: socks and ballbusting. Ever since he was a child he'd wanted girls in fluffy socks to kick him between the legs for all they were worth. He wanted to feel pedicured toes punt him squarely in the nuts, or heck, even pop a ball or two! I mean why not, right? Chris loved Diana, and he loved so much about her. Her sweet smelling brown hair, her limpid hazel eyes, her cherry red lips and her overall fashion sense. And every month Chris bought her a new pair of fuzzy socks which he insisted he apply to her each and every time he got her a new pair. But he never told her why, and it wasn't until just recently that he divulged the rest of his fetish to her. He had to be certain that it didn't warp or pervert their relationship.


It was on a warm summer day during the school break that Chris opened up to Diana. They were sitting in the park. There was a cool breeze and they were sitting together under a huge old maple tree.


"Diana," he started, tentatively, "I wanted to talk to you about something."


Diana gave him a smile and looked up from her novel. "Sure, what is it."


"Well, you know all those socks I've been getting you?"




"Well they're for a greater purpose, and not just because I know you like new socks."


"A greater purpose? What do you mean?"


"Uhm, what I mean is for a long time now I've been wondering what it would be like to have you kick me in the nuts with them on. I mean, I know it sounds strange, but to me, at least, it also sounds sexy. And since it's not intercourse, neither of us could get in trouble for doing it. I could stand there, my legs spread wide, fully clothed and you could punt me square in the nuts and I'd love it! Seriously."


Diana cocked her head and looked at him for a few moments, and then slowly a smile broke over her lips and she actually laughed. A rich, wonderful laugh. "Chris, I have something I need to tell you too. For the longest time now, I've been wondering what it would be like to ram my toes into some guy's poor nuts. I hadn't considered what I'd be wearing when I did so, but fuzzy socks sound just fine to me."


Chris's eyes went wide. "You're joking."


Diana shook her head. "Nope not at all. I've seen so many movies where guys get pegged in their privates and it always gave me an illicit thrill, although I never knew why. Until we had health class and I learned about those delicate little things you have between your legs. And then it dawned on my that I've always wanted to see them destroyed. Or at least owned."


Chris gave a cry of joy and hugged Diana fiercely. She returned the hug. It would seem that they were truly made for one another. Fast forward a month, still in summer break, and Diana and Chris were to be found at Diana's house when her parents had gone away on a second honey moon. During the daytime the two lovebirds had a house all to themselves, and they made the most of it. They started off with simple experiments. Chris would kneel before Diana and take her naked feet and gently slip on some lovely fuzzy socks, the colors varied each time, and then he would slip off his pants until he was in his boxer-brief underwear, put his hands behind his head, spread his legs and let his girlfriend go to work on his nuts.


Diana, for her part, liked to tease Chris a little by walking up to him and gently rubbing his crotch, just to see him get a little excited, then she'd back up, aim, and fire a good solid foot right into his plums. Chris would let out an "Ooof" and sway a little, sometimes drop, then get back up and let her have another go. Sessions could last anywhere from ten minutes to almost a half-hour before the pain got too bad for Chris to continue. Then they'd take a break, maybe go for a dip in the pool, or have a make-out session which involved a lot of French kissing. But being well behaved, it never went as far as sex.


At one point, on one of the days, Chris asked her to squeeze one or both of his testicles during their sessions, and it let Diana become more intimately familiar with what a guy carries between his legs. As she squeezed and kneaded his nuts, Chris told her about the epididymis, the prostate, the seminal vesicles and what it was like to have a penis. She listened with rapt attention and explored his privates through the thin material of his underwear.


What was most fun was kicking Chris from different positions. Standing up, on his knees, on his hands and knees, in the pool, etc. And what Chris particularly enjoyed was putting on a new pair of colored socks on Diana for each position. Peach colored for standing, rose for on the ground, purple for on the stairs, and so forth.


By the end of that weekend, Diana had come to feel like she sort of owned Chris, or at least his nuts, and she was eager to take it to the next level.


Fast forward another two weeks, and it found Diana and Chris together in the town library working on personal research. They used books, they trawled the internet, trying to find out all the things you could do to a man's balls and bring him pain. They discovered needles and weights, and presses/vices and filling the ball with saline, and all sorts of cruel and delicious tricks. Chris was a little leery of doing any permanent damage to himself so young in his life, but Diana felt that they should at least try to do something more interesting than plain kicking.


So, Diana toddled off to Walgreens to buy some hatpins (does anyone even wear hats these days?) That weekend her parents had gone off to see relatives, but Diana said she wanted to stay at home. So they let her. Chris came over and Diana showed her the setup. A wooden chair, lots of straps, a gag made of two balled up fuzzy socks and some rubbing alcohol. Chris got undressed, and a little nervous, and then he let himself be tied to the chair. Diana shoved the socks into his mouth, and set about sterilizing the pins and his nuts. This was the first time she'd seen his balls. And his dick. And she watched how he got a boner from her handling his privates. She stroked and then smacked his wiener a bit just to see it bob. 'Man, men's bodies are truly a wonder' she thought to herself. Then she held up the first sterilized pin so he could see it, and then watched him watch it as she slid it into his big, fat left nut. There was an explosion of air from his nostrils. Then a second pin. Then a third. His left nut looked like a shishkebab. Then it was time for his right ball. First one pin, then another, and then a third and fourth. She was skewering his balls, and man did it hurt, but despite the pain, Chris maintained his erection. And just to be extra cruel, Diana decided to flick the exposed pearled ends of the pins with her fingers. Chris jumped and moaned in his throat after each one. Then Diana pulled out the pins, and doused his whole sack with more alcohol, and wrapped his scrotum up in gauze. However, later in the day, when he'd recovered, she had him put some more socks, pink ones this time, and she kicked and slapped the dangling jewels that she'd perforated only that morning.


That evening Chris asked for something special. He asked Diana to kick him while he jacked off and then came. She agreed since she'd never seen an ejaculation before, and was intrigued by the idea of sticky white stuff spurting out of his body. Chris reverently slipped Diana's feet into some baby-blue cashmere socks and then sank to his knees and began to stroke himself, looking up at her. She was SO beautiful and she was enjoying herself SO much. It was just too perfect. He stroked and as she looked down at him, she began to methodically punt his cahones. THUNK THUNK THUNK. Chris started out slowly but then went faster and faster, and in response Diana went faster with her kicking. Oh, the pain, it was terrible, yes, but sweet too. Like a broken tooth.


"Oh My GOD Diana, i'm going to cum, kick me harder!" WHAM WHAM WHAM was the response. And in a few minutes Chris's whole muscular, sexy body shuddered, and his sperm spurted onto the white carpet. Diana watched in fascination. When the last little dribble of cum seeped from his cock-head, Chris collapsed in a heap of pleasurable torment, and Diana bent down to cradle his head.


"There, there," she said. "If you thought that was something, just wait until we graduate. You're going to give me one of your balls in celebration!"

Thursday, May 5, 2016

Youtube Video on BB

A not particularly enlightening video on ballbusting fetish.



Saturday, April 30, 2016

(FFFFFF/M) The Bursting - NEW!

I do so love historical BB/TT stories, so here's one for you. Enjoy!


The Bursting


Benedicia, the high priestess of Vesta looked down from her dais. Her silky black hair fell over one shoulder and she brushed it aside. The man in front of her, at the bottom of the stairs, was clothed in a simple white robe which hid his assets and his muscular body. He was flanked by two sisters of the order who were his guards and guides, and they introduced him to their mistress.


"This is Marcus, mistress. He has come to us so that he may sacrifice his manhood to the Goddess. He wishes to experience the ultimate ecstasy of the 'The Bursting'."


"I see," remarked Benedicia. "And what is it that he is offering? Let us see his sacrifice."


The blond priestess to his right undid his sash and disrobed him. His body was perfect, flawless. Smooth, muscular and hung. His flaccid member was seven inches and thick and lay over two enormous ovals, his testicles. They were massive too, and they hung there like two peaches - round, succulent and vulnerable.


"Very nice," said Benedicia as she got up and walked down the stairs. She stopped in front of Marcus. Slowly she raised her hands and ran them over his handsome face, down the neck, across his pecs, over his washboard abs, down the flat of his pelvis and came to cup his balls. They were beautiful and among the largest she'd ever seen on a human. There were animals that had larger, like cows and horses, but these were massive, and would be a fitting tribute to the Goddess.


She looked into his green eyes and searched them. "Do you realize what you are about to do?"


His voice was deep and husky, "I do, mistress. I want to experience the ultimate ejaculation in service to your order. I wish it with all my heart that the Goddess should have my balls." Benedicia rolled his nuts around in her hand, and they did not shrivel or retreat. This man meant what he said, and was obviously desirous of becoming a eunuch.


"Very well," she said. "First you will experience pleasure unlike any other, but you will be denied release. Then you shall be tortured and endure pain unlike like any other, but again denied release. And finally, you shall have your balls burst and when that happens you will cum like a chariot-horse and most likely die from the pain. I wish you well, young man." The beautiful priestess gave his ball sack a light slap and resumed sitting on her throne.


"Take him to the bed chamber," she said.


"Your will, mistress," said the blond priestess.


The still naked Marcus was guided to a whole different wing of the temple where a huge bed, fitted with silver satin sheets and feather pillows was laid out. On the bed was a barely clothed woman of stunning beauty. She had long curly black hair, perfectly smooth tan skin, and beautiful hazel eyes. Her breasts were large, firm and perfectly formed. Her snatch was shaved and pink. If there was ever a woman ready to please a man, it was she. Naturally Marcus let himself get erect and sexually excited. He was already naked and felt no shame in showing his arousal. This would be the fun part of the day.


He was pulled over to the bed by his escorts and Marcus noticed that the woman on the bed had a long length of cord in her hand. She spoke.


"Noble male, this is a length of wet leather cord. I will tie up your verpa and cōleī [penis and testicles] with it and as it dries it will shrink into a tight bind that will prevent you from releasing your pleasure. It will also hurt, although this is just a taste of the pain you will endure tonight." First she tied around his whole package, then one ball, then the other and then finally around his cock. When it was nice and tight she tied it off. His already massive cock now reached nine inches long, and its bulbous head was nice and purple. And his balls, well they had started to swell too. Nicely.


The woman spoke again. "I am Naticha and this is Callisto and Dulcea," she said, pointing to his two chaperones. "We are here to pleasure you." As Marcus stood in front of her, she sucked in his engorged shaft and began to give him expert head, while the priestess on ether side of him undressed and began to kiss and lick his whole body. They guided him to lay down. Naticha concentrated on his member, Callisto his lips and Dulcea his nipples.


Like any hot-blooded Roman man, Marcus was at ease with women worshiping his body, but these weren't just any women. These were holy priestesses. One cut below royalty, so it was an honor just to be in their presence. In addition to that, this whole exercise in sacrifice was about purging his bloodline of shame and ignominy for getting on the wrong side of the Senate and loosing their positions of power within the Empire. Of all his brothers, Marcus had been chosen to make the ultimate sacrifice to the Goddess and thus assure his family would reclaim their success through divine intercession. And he was glad to do it, for it was said that an hour with a Vesta priestess was like being in Elysian and that the final release when his balls were crushed would be a release unlike any other.


Callisto stopped kissing Marcus and left the bed to go drip her hand into a large amphora in the corner, full of olive oil. She took some and smeared and oiled up Marcus's whole body, including his cock and balls. Natisha stopped sucking him off to watch his member become slick and shiny with oil. She then took off her diaphanous toga to expose her breasts to him and mounted him. Her cunny quivered and she shivered a bit as his huge cock slid inside her. Marcus moaned, but that moan was soon muffled as Dulcea slipped out of her own gauzy toga and made Marcus suck on her nipples, pushing her plump pillows into his face and watching him worship her breasts.


Natisha began to slowly ride her young buck while the other two priestesses worshiped his body or let Marcus worship theirs. At one point Dulcea mounted Marcus's face so that he could eat her out. Which he did, with great enthusiasm. The women worked his body over, all of them slick with oil, and full of engorged body parts - erect nipples, flushed skin, and quivering genitals. This went on for at least an hour. Each woman took turns having his dick inside them, and each took turns letting his tongue lash their caves but no matter how hard he tried, Marcus just couldn't cum. It was like there was a vice around his man parts and he was unable to experience a release, despite the fact that he normally came within fifteen minutes of fucking a woman. When all four of them were finally exhausted, the women from their orgasms and Marcus from providing them, it was time to move on to the painful part of the sacrifice.


The three women got off the bed and two new women entered the room.


"This is Flavia and Jessamine. They will execute the next part of your experience." The two women guided Marcus with his face and dick red from over-use out the door and through some hallways to another room. Inside were shackles. They attached them to Marcus's wrists and ankles and then Flavia turned a winch which lifted Marcus off the ground and suspended him, buck naked, in mid air. His bound up cock and balls swayed between his stretched out legs. Marcus expected them to immediately begin to torture him. But instead they brought out pots of henna oil and brushes and began to paint his naked body. It took another hour but eventually his whole, smooth beautifully muscular body was painted with swirls and mystic red markings of Vesta. Throughout the painting his dick stayed hard from the cord wrapped around it, and they even painted it.


When the painting was finished a small group of women came in, several of which had instruments and they began to play a lively Roman religious tune. Flavia and Jessamine attached metal anklets to their feet and began to dance, Flavia in front of Marcus and Jessamine behind. The women danced and then at crucial points began to kick, slap or punch Marcus's bound up balls. TINKLE TINKLE. The anklets rattled each time their respective feet made contact with Marcus's goods. As the music got louder and more intense, so did the ballbusting. WHAM WHAM WHAM, TINKLE TINKLE TINKLE. Marcus's balls began to swell and turn an angry red, and he started to grunt loudly with each punt, but no matter what the women kept dancing. The music and torture became relentless. Balls were kicked, smashed, slapped and even briefly squeezed. Were he not in such pain, Marcus would probably have admired the women busting him. They were both beautiful and wrapped in the same gauzy, see-through togas that the other women had been in. Flavia and Jessamine twirled, swooped, spun, and thrust themselves into a religious frenzy. The music increased in tempo and Marcus's grunts turned into screams. This whole thing went on for what seemed like forever. Marcus's balls had tripled in size now and looked like angry bull-balls. They were HUGE. And each additional kick made them swell. Finally, the music rose to a crescendo and the kicking and hitting become one long sustained ballbusting session with Marcus nearly losing his mind from the pain. Then everything stopped, the two dancing priestesses panting from their exertion.


Marcus meanwhile just hung there, like a limp doll, his head lolling and his eyes rolling back. He was lost to the world, and the women around him noticed. One brought a pitcher of water and a cup and poured some so Marcus might revive a little. Another priestess helped him eat some honeyed biscuits and the sugar plus the pure clean water gave Marcus a much needed boost of energy. He did revive a bit and they let him hang there for a while and come back to normal consciousness. Then, they lowered him and took off the manacles. With the support of Flavia and Jessamine he was half dragged, half carried to the altar room and he was placed before it. The altar itself was about knee high, which meant that as he was placed before it, his cock and balls rested naturally upon its stone surface. One priestess had a knife and she cut the cord binding them so that his worked-over nuts hung loose and his massive erection was free to slap against his stomach. Flavia spoke.


"This is where we crush your cōleī in honor of our goddess. This is Petra and she will stand upon your cōleī until they burst. Now drink this, it will allow you to release at the culmination of the ceremony." Marcus drank from the goblet she offered and whatever was in it was sweet and rather acidic. And it left a funny taste in the back of his throat. Jessamine tied his hands behind his back and left him there, ready to be sacrificed.


Then a group of priestess came in and began singing, while Petra stood on the altar and danced with lit candles in her hands. She began to chant in the ancient temple language of which Marcus could only understand a little: "dear goddess . . . . take these organs . . . the organs of life . . . give this man . . . everlasting purity  . . . from now on . . ." and on and on it went once again the chanting increased in intensity until the whole room filled with the sounds of frenzied devotion and Petra's gyrations on the alter became extreme. And then out of the blue she stomped her foot down on his lolling left testicle. Once, twice, thrice until it burst with a loud pop. And then three stomps, nor more, no less, on his right nut popping it as well. Marcus's body shuddered with a strange and powerful pleasure and his huge cock spurted white man-milk all over Petra's feet which then began to dance on the mushy remains of his manhood. SMOOSH SMOOSH SMOOSH. The women chanted, Marcus's barely hung on to consciousness, and Petra pummeled his ballbag. Then before he could even collapse Petra pulled a dagger from her sash and cut off his junk, letting Marcus fall over into the waiting arms of an army of priestesses. One of them applied a glowing brand to his wound to cauterize it And Petra lifted his spent organs to heaven and then threw him into the fire where they popped and crackled in the heat. As the smell of smoking manhood drifted through the room, Marcus had one last thought before he fainted, 'Dear Vesta give my family good fortune and expatiate our shame. Amen.'.