Jill (f/Mmm) - repost

Jill

 

 

Jill got out of bed, and ran to her father’s room. He was asleep, snoring softly. As always, she knew he was naked under the covers, because she made him, and so she reached under the covers to find her coveted prizes, his balls. For two years, now, his most treasured possessions had been her play toys. In fact, he had officially given them too her, last Christmas, with a formal document, saying he’d just carry them around between his legs for her. Tony made it quite clear that Jill could use or abuse, any time or anywhere, the very glands that helped make her.

 

Her hand snaked around his thigh, through his spread legs, and after finding the big head of his dick, seized his two big walnuts. She rolled her father’s gonads around in her hand, jiggling them like the rolly-pollys, and squeezed them vigorously.

 

“Daddy, daddy! Wake up. I had a bad dream. Daddy!” She squeezed each testicle with her hands as strongly as she could to wake him up.

 

He groaned slightly and groggily turned his head in the semi dark to look at his daughter. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

 

“I had another tewwible dweam,” she simpered. “I was being chased by that horrible boogie-man again. Can you please make it all better for me? Please?” Jill tugged on her daddy’s scrotum, using his big balls as leverage, in an effort to pull him out of bed.

 

“Ok. Ok. I’ll make everything better.” Tony got out of bed, naked but for his white gym socks, and kneeled in the doorway, facing her, his hanging fruit silhouetted from behind by the light in the hallway.

 

“Now,” he said sleepily as he put his hands on top of his head, like he was a hostage, “I want you to pretend I’m the monster. I want you to protect yourself, and kick me in the stones as hard as you can. The monster is a bad guy, guys have testicles, and so do I. Kicking them will make him go away.” Tony, though tired, knew his daughter’s safety and happiness were more important than either his manhood or his sleep.

 

“Okay daddy. Take THAT you big ol’ nasty boogey man!” she yelled as she ran up and punted her father in the goolies. She felt the delicate organs squish between her toes, and against his pelvis. “And THAT and THAT and THAT” yelling loudly with each kick and smack to his plums.

 

Thanks to his years in the Marines, Tony remained solid as a rock, with only his ab muscles rippling as he let his daughter punt his cahones, and they were the only things that really moved, bouncing and flopping under her vented retribution. They made an almost rhythmic slapping as she kicked them with her bare feet. At some point in her enthusiastic crotch-bashing, she fell forward and knocked her father onto his back. She landed on his groin, and had to press her knee deeply into his left testicle just to get back on her feet. Since he was already on his back, Jill made her father get into her favorite nut-busting position, with his knees drawn to his chest, feet slightly splayed, allowing full access the heavy ball bag which hung over his crack.

 

“My nuts are now at your mercy, sweetie. You’ve got the monster down on his back. Punish his balls. Step on them sweetie, turn them into mush with your heels,” Tony said, encouraging his daughter. Jill pounded his manhood with her instep while holding onto his socked feet for balance. She isolated one of her father’s balls and grasped it between her big toe and second toe, making it stand out, and then she thrust her foot forwards onto her daddy’s stomach, taking the gonad with it. This also pulled his other nut straight under her heel, and so she was able to flatten his right nut under her heal against his pubic bone, and hyper-extend his left ball.

 

Balanced on one leg, she bounced up and down on his right nut. “Daddy,” she said wistfully, “Can I pop your balls someday? I really want too. I bet daddy-eggs make a great noise when they rupture. Can I, please?”

 

Tony could only moan as 43 pounds of little girl was balanced on his right man-nugget, the pain was unbelievable.

 

“Daddy!” Jill stepped off his goolie, released his left nut from between her toes, and then started ramming her toes into them, trying to elicit an answer. Tony’s testicles were swelling from the abuse, but he didn’t mind . . . this was his little girl!

 

“Of course you can turn my nuts to jelly. Whenever you want, sweetie” came the eventual reply, Tony’s face flushed with pain and adrenaline.

 

“I think I will tomorrow, then. I’ll get you up bright and early,” said the blond haired girl as she stopped kicking her father and let him curl up into a ball, him panting and breathing deeply. Even though she could tell he wanted to hold himself, she reached between his legs, and grasped his gonads between her fingers to roll them around, and he automatically let her squeeze them, her balls, her nuts, her toys.

 

Finally she let her father tuck her in, and he went off to bed, one hand clutching his groin.

 

Bright and early, Tony felt someone pull the quilt off his bed, and his little girl jumped between his legs. He opened eyes just in time to see his daughter do a knee plant right in his naked genitalia. The dull ache that spread through his abdomen was enough to make him want to puke, but all he said was, “Morning, sweetie.” She did this to him every morning.

 

“Hiya daddy. I’m gonna pop your balls this morning. Are you going to miss them?” she asked sweetly as she ground her kneecap into one of his testicles. It felt like a little rubber ball to her, the kind she bought at the store and threw at hard surfaces to see it bounce.

 

“I’m only going to miss not having them for you to bust, hon,” replied Tony.

 

“That’s okay. Paul from next door said I could bust him as much as I want, and I never told you, but baby sitter Josh has been letting me kick his stones for ages. His look different than yours, though.” Paul was a twelve year-old who lived next door, and had had a crush on little Jill for a long time. Josh was a junior in high school who baby-sat on occasion, and Tony had never dreamed his little girl had been busting balls other than his.

 

“Daddy, lets play some games with your big hangers before I squash them. Favorite ones.” Jill squeezed his left testicle particularly firmly while proposing this, and the oval agate compressed slightly in her hand. She never ceased to enjoy they way they felt in her hand, or the way they moved slightly, sometimes, on their own. Like they were alive.

 

“Ok” was all her father could manage.

 

“First, let’s do the water game. I already got out the ice cubes and the kettle.” This game had been invented by Jill after her cousin, Ray, had told her how much his balls hurt when swimming in cold water. He said it made them ache terribly. Tony had upped the ante by suggesting she alternate dunking his nuts in first ice water, then near-boiling water. The effect was always a very very sweet, deep ache that radiated from his nuts all the way to the core of his stomach.

 

“We’ll end with deep-icing your nuts so I can slap them with the pancake flipper.” She squeezed out both orbs and attempted to see how far she could press her little thumbs into them. Her father struggled not to thrash about. She let the ball bag drop, and then slapped the whole thing with her open palm as hard as she could. Crouched between her father’s legs, she could watch his washboard ab muscles ripple in abject pain with each strike of her hand. It was such fun!

 

“Let’s go, daddy! I wanna play!” Then she stopped. “Daddy, I think I’m gonna go call Paul and Josh over. They can learn from you how to be ball busted!” She let his sack drop back between his legs, and she ran into the kitchen to call her other two intended victims. Tony just lay there in bed, moaning quietly, and thinking about the fate of his manhood. He mused that he was probably the first, and only, father in history to willingly let his own daughter pop his baby-makers. And now he was going to induct two other males into her little nut-crushing harem. Truth really was stranger than fiction.

 

He got up and limped into the kitchen. Jill was talking animatedly on the phone, but he saw her lustfully eye his dangling orbs as he walked by her, and so Tony dutifully turned to stand in front of her, slid his socked feet apart on the wooden floor, and then bucked his hips slightly to make his balls swing like inviting targets. He then pointed to his pendulous orbs and widened his legs further, so that Jill could abuse them. And why did he encourage Jill to abuse his nuts? Because he knew she would enjoy it.

 

As she was describing to Josh over the phone about what he’d be getting if he came over, Jill dropped her father to floor with a single nut-smacking kick, then left Tony moaning on the floor until Jill finished her phone calls..

 

“They’re coming over right away. I’ve changed my mind. I wanna play piñata. Go drop them through the hole, and I’ll get the Crotch Buster.”

 

Tony, rather than building a jungle-gym for his daughter, as most fathers would, had built for her a towering structure in the living room (the living room had a vaulted ceiling) which was designed to visually separate him from his package. The Piñata hole was on top, and all he had to do was climb the ladder, straddle the top arch of the structure, and let his scrotum drop through.

 

Jill’s father, as we already know, had a long, loose scrotum, and so his two big plums dangled there, awaiting the Crotch Buster’s ministrations. There were other holes, too. Some on the side, and even some on the floor, where he could lie beneath the structure, and push his eggs up through the hole, then clamp them off, making only his two balls visible on the floor, like two little lost eggs. There was also one on the floor that separated his testicles, so that Jill could bounce on them independent of one another.

Jill had retrieved the ridiculously fat red plastic bat, and was now standing in the wooden Ball House. She raised the bat up to the two balls, tapping them playfully to see them swing, then started hitting them with all her might, watching them smack satisfyingly against the roof. She hit them left, then right, and then caught them in the middle, going back the other way. Then she rammed the swollen sack with the big, flat end of the bat, imagining she could actually crush them if she just pushed hard enough. She smashed the swinging goolies into the roof over and over, with Tony repeating “Oh fuck, oh FUCK, my balls!” between gritted teeth.

 

Tony’s testes were swelling nicely by now, enormous and red, and yet Tony’s scrotum was still big enough to let them to hang down nicely, far away from the safety of his body. When Jill’s arms tired, she reached up and squeezed his hanging fruit with both hands.

 

“Daddy,” she said as she pulled and yanked on his manhood, “I’m glad I’m popping your baby-makers. I don’t want you having any more girls. I want you all to myself. But a brother would be cool cuz then I could beat on his balls the way I beat up yours!”

 

“Daddy, if I let you keep one of your balls today, will you have a brother for me. I’d love to squash his little goobers! Or how about two brothers?!! That would mean four nuts for me to play with. When they’re born, I can pop your left-over ball.”

 

All Tony could manage was, “Of course, sweetie. Whatever you want.”

 

Jill allowed her father to slide off the ball-house and recover on the couch for a while. She had found that if she let her father rest between sessions, he could take much more abuse.

 

Eventually Paul and Josh came over. As soon as they came in, Jill closed the door, told them to stand still, and unbuttoned their pants, pulling them down. Then she yanked down their underwear and told them to take off their shoes. Her time with her father had made her rather bold.

 

“Boys,” said Tony, “You guys are welcome to come here any time as long as you let Jill do anything she wants to, to your nuts.” Neither boy seemed to have a problem with that. “That includes crushing them, if she asks. You get to witness her popping one of mine today, so act like men.”

 

“I’ve already told her she can do what she wants with mine,” gushed Paul enthusiastically. “She can pop one of mine today, if it’s cool with you.” He gave an eager grin.

 

Not wanting to let a mere kid upstage him Josh agreed to that as well. “Yeah, I don’t mind either,” he said in a cool, detached way.

 

“Yay!” squealed Jill. “Three nuts for me today!”

 

Tony stood up and said to Jill, “Tell us what to do.”

 

Jill told them to get on their hands and knees, so she could punt them from behind for some preliminary busting. Once they were in position, though, she decided to humiliate them a bit, first.

 

She walked up to Josh, and fondled his dangling fruit. His nuts were of a medium size, the left one hanging much lower than the right. Instead of being fat, his nuts were kind of long, from top to bottom, and his scrotum was slightly hairy. Jill felt her way up the cords attaching his balls to his body to finish by encircling his fully hard cock with her hands. “Tell me how much you want me to hurt them. Tell me what a bad boy you’ve been and want them punished.”

 

“Kick my balls, Jill. Tell them who’s boss. Kick me harder than my coach does. Kick them harder than my father does. Make them hurt,” replied Josh. Jill returned her hands to popping them between her fingers, and then slapped them a few times for good measure, before letting them flop down between his legs. Next she fondled Paul’s little teenage nuts.

 

“Tell me to squash your nuts, Paul. Tell me how fun it is to hurt them,” she said.

 

Paul looked through his own legs, past the pubescent hard-on that was pulsing time with his heartbeat, and gazed lovingly at the two hands dominating his virgin manhood. “You’re the hottest girl on the block, Jill. Take my nuts and stomp on them till they’re mush. Suck them in your mouth and pop them between your teeth. Anything you do to hurt me is an honor.” He groaned when she squeezed his right ball quite firmly. It compressed in her hand. Total control, that’s what she had over these three males. It was a remarkable thing to feel, at her age. Finally, she moved on to her father.

 

“Daddy, which of your nuts do you think made me?” she asked as she squeezed his apples, hanging below his own full erection. This was the first time she had seen him with one, and it was clear he was excited about loosing a ball. “I want to crush the one that I came from,” Jill continued. “You can make my brothers from the other one.”

 

Despite the absurdity of the question, Tony dutifully assessed his own ball-bag. “Probably the left one, honey. I once heard a Cassock women say girls came from men with big balls. My left ball is the bigger one, and you deserve to crush it.”

 

Jill put both hands around his left nut and squeezed it with all her might. “This one! This is MY nut, and I’m gonna burst it.” Then she stepped back and began kicking them, one at a time. She savored the feeling of their testicles squishing between her toes and the smacking sound it made when her foot connected with them. She relished the softness of their scrotums, and the contrasting firmness of their balls. She found it interesting to kick the easy target of her father, and the more difficult target of Paul’s little nuts, as they slid around in their sac trying to escape her abuse. She enjoyed the way it was easy to single out Josh’s lower hanging leftie for punishment, and decided she’d save his smaller right one for the big moment. It seemed more vulnerable and delicate, and would therefore probably hurt him more when she ruptured it.

 

All three of her victims were grunting and moaning and crying out, but none of them had lost their erections, nor did any of them attempt to stop Jill while she punting their cahones.

 

In less than eight minutes, the three males were squirming and mewling like kittens, instinctively trying to curl up, but Jill moved directly onto the next step, and singled one of them out for ball-bursting. She knelt beside Paul, worming one balls out from between the fingers and said, “Say goodbye to your nut, Paul,” and positioned it in her two hands.

 

Paul actually opened his eyes and looked at the gonad she was holding and croaked, “Goodbye”. Jill smiled wickedly, and then began to squeeze the life out of the little goober. Being a mere quarter of the size of her dad’s balls, the little gland didn’t’ stand a chance. With two years of nut-squeezing under her belt, she expertly pressed both thumbs into the testicle’s heart. In less than a minute, Jill had popped his right organ. When the thing went “squish” in her hand, Paul began to shudder like he was having a seizure and his fully erect penis erupted in a stream of sticky white fluid, which painted his hairless adolescent chest. Jet after jet of cum spurted from the tip of his member, and when the semen finally ran dry, he half sat up, exhaled the breath he’d been holding, and then fell back in a dead faint.

 

Jill laughed and squished his ball-mush around for bit, but then dropped the swelling scrotum to go ruin one of Josh’s.

 

“That was GREAT. Men are such great toys.” She looked at Josh, who was bent over his own knees, holding his balls, and in a world of male-only pain. “Are you going to make ball juice when I pop your nut, Josh?“ Jill asked innocently. All Josh could do was eventually moan, “probably.”

 

“Great!” exclaimed Jill. First she collected two important items which she frequently used in busting her father. Then, kneeling behind Josh, she reached under his spread crack and pulled both his rigid pole and his two huge athletic balls out from behind him. Josh was still bent over double; eyes closed, face red, and barely breathing.

 

She slipped the wooden “meditation” stool she’d retrieved under his entire package so that his cock and balls lay against its hard wooden surface, and then she picked up her father’s extra large steel hammer from off the floor. It was the one with the enormous flat head, ideal for ensuring his entire ball would get crushed flat.

 

Carefully arranging his two eggs to lay perfectly flat on either side of his thick, twitching shaft, Jill raised the hammer triumphantly above his virile right nut, exclaimed “I’m going to pop your nut now, Josh. I’m gonna enjoy this, so don’t move” . . . and smashed it down as hard as she could onto the waiting nut. Over and over she pounded his testicle in rapid succession, and having a child’s poor aim, she frequently missed it and brutalized his cock too. The only sound, now, that could be heard in the room was the wild pistoning of a hammer against naked ball-flesh. Sort of a thumping, smacking sound, and given the weight of the hammer, it wasn’t long before she had reduced his athletic ball to reproductive jelly and his cock to mince-meat.

 

But Jill wanted to see ball juice. She dropped the hammer on the floor without a second thought, and began yanking on his broken penis. Within a dozen strokes, the swollen member issued a huge volume of sweet jism, which gushed and dripped all over Jill’s hand. Josh, who had been crying and screaming throughout the ordeal, shuddered once, in a horrible parody of an orgasm, and then went still, even as his dick continued to spurt cum.  Jill looked over at his handsome, flushed face lying cheek down, motionless on the carpet, and smiled. ‘Two down, one to go,’ she thought happily as she wiped his baby-batter on her pants and ran over to her father, who was on his back by now, clutching his groin.

 

Jill hugged her father and kissed his forehead. “Oh, daddy. This has been so much fun. Ball-popping is the best! I wonder how I should explode YOUR cherry? I want it to be special. We can only do this twice, you know.”

 

Tony moaned softly. “It’s called castration Jill. You’re castrating me.”

 

“Oh,” she replied. “I didn’t know that. I’ll tell Mrs. Richards I learned a new word this summer. I bet no one else at school owns her father’s balls they way I own yours.”

 

Jill scooted to her left a bit, and slapped her father’s hands away from his manhood. She picked up a marker that was on the floor, and isolated his left nut. Then she wrote on it, “P O P M E”, in big letters. She dropped the pen, and bunched his cock and balls together with one hand and began slapping them with the other, singing out loud, while she tried to think of how to execute his nut.

 

“Ba Ba blaCK sheep, Have you any WOOL,” she chanted, accenting the up-beats with a particularly vicious slap. Her father jolted with each and every impact, but as a good Marine should, he let her torture his most treasured possessions. Jill worked her way through every nursery rhyme she’d ever heard, all the while trying to decide on a method of gonad-destruction. The last rhyme she thought of was Humpty-Dumpty.

 

“I got it! I know how I’ll break your egg. You’re going put it in the floor hole of the Ball House. I’ve stepped on your buttons before and bounced on them, but I’ve never jumped on them. I’m gonna jump on you doomed ball so hard its bursting will wake up the neighbors!” Jill ran over to the Ball House, and started undoing its latches. The roof was hinged, and with some effort, she pushed the lid off. She glanced over at her father.

 

“Go get underneath, daddy. Make your ball and easy target for me.”

 

Despite the sickening amount of pain he was in, Tony roused himself. “Ok, sweetie, but I want you to put on some shoes. You might hurt yourself otherwise.” Jill grumbled at this, but Tony was firm. Finally she relented and went and put on her soccer cleats, which she had just gotten for her birthday. Then she climbed up the side of the structure, and waited. She watched her father crawl over to the play house, slide underneath it (one hand nursing his mangled groin), and then try to jam his left bullock through the hole. Usually the hole was easy to use, but Tony’s nuts were swollen far more than normal. It was self-torture to force the bloated nut in, but.finally it did pop through, and he clamped it off. “Go for it sweetie,” said Tony in an almost hopeful voice, although Jill was sure she heard her father vomit quietly too.

 

“Yay!” shouted Jill. She looked down from her perch at it. Just a single, big flesh colored egg, about the size of a mango, proudly exposed on a polished redwood surface. It looked so noble and alive, and yet vulnerable too. Like someone had just left it lying about on the floor, when it really should be concealed and protected behind layers of pants and underwear, and safe between someone’s legs. Tony’s proud Marine testicle, which had survived innumerous kicks to the balls in high school, sneaky punches to the testicles in basic training, and brutal nut-squeezes by enemy combatants was now going to be destroyed by a his seven year old daughter. And he was going to let her do it, willingly. Simply because he loved her, and because he only wanted her to be happy. And boy, was she ever happy!

 

“Okay Daddy. Here goes. I want you to count how many times it takes to pop it.” Then Jill started to jump, reciting, “Humpty Dumpty sat on the WALL,”  and landing on the exposed testicle. Tony screamed “ONE” as the cleated weight of his daughter’s left foot penetrated his big egg. Jill jumped off it, and circled back up onto the side.

 

“Humpty Dumpty had a great FALL,” came the second verse crashing down on his vulnerable walnut. “TWO” yelled the brave soldier in a cracking voice.

 

Jill continued the verse as she ran around and up for the third pass. “All the King’s horses, and all the King’s MEN.” Jill managed to land with both feet pressed tightly together so that they both pulverized her father’s sex-life simultaneously. Then for fun, she stepped sideways a little so she could twisted just her left foot into his softening testicle while commenting to her father, “Men have such fun toys between their legs. I didn’t hear a count, daddy.”

 

This time it was an almost inaudible whimper, “three”. Jill smiled to herself, and then climbed the half-ladder for one last time. She paused to stand fully on the ledge, instead of just crouching on it, so that this jump might really burst the ball, and then sang, “Couldn’t put it back TOGETHER again.” She landed precisely on the word “together”, and she felt, rather than heard, his big nut break at the impact. And it really did break, with a sort of cracking, splitting feeling, for Tony’s nuts were remarkable dense and solid, probably accounting for why they’d lasted this long.

 

There were no words from her father, just tear-soaked gibbering. The built, handsome hunky Marine who’d killed dozen’s of men, and personally kicked the sex-life of enemies to mush himself, had been reduced to a helpless child by his own child. And while the fruit of his loin jumped up and down some more on the remains of his seed (after taking off her cleats so she could feel the lumpy remains squish between her toes), his own seed shot across his ripped torso. Like the other two males, the extreme attention focused on his genitals had induced an orgasm.

 

In the way the males of some species release their seed only when their end is near, so too had Tony’s proud nut released the last of its contents at the moment of the final impact, and with an intensity that was truly remarkable. Tony’s dick was so rigid, it was like a psychotic soldier standing at hyper-attention, and its swollen purple head released dozens of volleys of cum, several of which shot over his head and landed on the carpet, and three squirts of which shot into one of his lolling eyes.

 

It wasn’t until several minutes later that Jill was satisfied she’d flattened the ball’s remaining bulges, and then she examined the remains. She could still make out the word “ P O P” on the thin scrotal skin.

 

Even though he was in no shape to hear or respond, Jill commented, “Daddy, I want you to tattoo  ‘Pop me’ on your other nut,” having no idea, of course, what kind of pain a tattoo needle would inflict on an actual testicle, nor likely caring even if she did know.

She finished the remarkable session by rolling the two boys on their backs and then playing with their whole balls and kicking them between the legs to wake them up. It was going to be a long, hot summer, and she envisioned have the two boys standing  naked outside in the sun, their remaining ball hanging low in the heat, moist with sweat,  and them just waiting for her, aching for her to burst their remaining ball. She just knew they would be begging her, probably every day, to castrate them, to play with their nuts in the most vulnerable ways, and then when she was ready, completely remove their ability to have children. She also knew they’d be her nut-slaves until then, coming over every day to be hit with kitchen utensils and her dad’s rubber mallet or letting her hang by their last nut while they stood still, letting her swing between their legs while they lovingly awaited the pleasure she would give them by popping it.

 

Paul, of course, had the smaller ball, so she’d make him rubber band the base of his gonad all-day-long and every day, while Josh’s she’d tie off with string so she could pull on it as well as torture it. Since she’d saved Josh’s larger nut for the second go, she thought she’d try sticking needles in it.  And she’d defiantly make them squirt ball-goo both before and after she’d punished the organ than made it. Maybe she would make them take a hot bath, and then when their nuts were nice and loose, have them place their last ball on the side of the tub and smack it the toilet brush. Yes, there were a lot of things to do this summer.

 

And then, of course, there was her father. She would have him stand naked by her bed everyone morning so that the first thing she could do when she woke up was kick the dangling thing four or five times, then a full, fun day of torturing it,  concluded by lots of ball squeezing just before bedtime. And she couldn’t wait to have some brothers. She had no trouble envisioning their nuts going “pop” too. Jill was surrounded by a vast sea of testicles, just waiting to be busted by her, and the thought made her feel like a fairy princess. Wasn’t life just grand?