Rocky Mountain Oysters
Jack had just finished up brushing down the chestnut mare, when one of the ranch hands said, “the boss” wanted to see him. “The Boss” was none other than Jacks maternal uncle, Bill. It was never a good thing to have to see him, since it usually involved making Jack do things for his two cousins, Jesse and Melinda, that ended up letting the two girls humiliate or torture him. Jack hung up the brush and walked towards the accounting shed.
Jack had always been slight for his age, and his two female cousins had considered him a runt from the moment he arrived. Indeed, although he was now almost 17, he looked more like a fifteen year old. His close cropped blond hair, a fair face and a body toughened by a decade of ceaseless physical labor did nothing to make him look older. Orphaned at the age of 7, when his parents died in a railroad accident, Jack had been sent to live on his uncle’s ranch in Colorado, just outside Cordillera. Since that young age, Jack had been forced into a kind of indentured servitude, taking care of horses, cows and sheep from dawn to dusk. Bailing hay, repairing leather harnesses, grooming livestock – it was one long round of stressful, dangerous work from the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he closed them, and this would have been bad enough without having to endure the ill treatment he received at the hands of his relatives.
His relatives: first there was Melinda or “Mel” – long brown braided hair, green eyes, rather buxom and nearly a foot taller than Jack. Mel was pretty enough on the outside, but tough-as-nails on the inside and incredibly cruel. Second, there was Jesse or “Jes” as she was called – smaller than Melinda, more petite, but just as self-confident. She too had brown hair and wore a severe braid, and generally followed her sister’s lead. Both had been wrangling cattle and riding horses since they could walk. They could shoe hooves, inoculate sheep, shear them, slaughter cattle and their favorite thing – castrating any male livestock that came their way. And last, but not least, there was Uncle Bill, who treated Jack worse than the hired hands, and had no sympathy for the boy, despite the things his daughters did to him.
From the moment he’d arrived, his two cousins, each older than him, had made his life a living hell. If there was something dangerous to do, they made him do it. If he could be put into a compromising position, they would engineer it. If he could be belittled or embarrassed, they’d see that he was. They especially liked to hurt young Jack “where he lived”, whether it was just embarrassing (like when they would pants him in front of anyone new to the ranch), or painful (like “accidently hitting him in the groin), or downright dangerous, like when they’d have Jack secure a horse’s back leg between his own legs (and then scaring or hurting the horse so that its hoof would slam into Jack’s crotch, dropping him like a stone). It was through these endless incidents that really everyone knew that Jack may look like a boy, but had the tackle of a man. Lemon sized balls and a super thick 9 inch dick.
The shed was dark and warm, musty-sweet with the smell of hay and horses. Bill was sitting at a makeshift desk, checking inventory sheets. He looked up at his nephew with the usual indifference. Jack heard something behind him, and felt his two cousins enter the shed as well.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” he said, stiffly.
“Yes, Jack,” said Bill. “I’ve got an important job for you to do. I’ve finally found some men suitable to marry your cousins. A set of twins east of here, good stock and well-heeled. Jes and Mel need to travel to Beaver Creek to meet their new suitors, and I want you to escort them. It will be a 10 day journey, and I want you to be their protection and their chaperone. Do you think you can handle that?”
Jack’s face went a little pale, but he nodded. “Yes sir,” replied Jack in a hollow voice.
“It’s time you had adult responsibilities. As the man [Jesse and Mel sniggered, but Bill paid no attention] I expect you to do whatever it takes to get my two girls to their destination safely.”
Bill’s eyes became cold. “If they report receiving from you anything but the most complete compliance and respect, then it would be better you not return here at all.” Bill returned to his lists. “Go pack your things and get the horses ready,” he concluded with a dismissive wave. “You’ll be using the travois.”
“Yes sir,” said Jack. He turned around and left. The girls followed, close behind.
“So,” whispered Jesse into his left ear, “You’re the man, huh? You’ll have to prove it.”
“Ten days with just you, us, and your two . . . fat . . . balls,” whispered Mel into his right ear.
It was, of course, ridiculous that either girl would need Jack’s help or protection. They could out-ride, out-shoot, and out-perform him with both hands tied behind their backs. As cow-girls, they nearly put Roy Rogers to shame. No, it was clear to Jack that they were going to make him work his ass of while they played the princess role and abuse him for their own amusement.
Jack started to sweat. This wasn’t going to be a fun trip.
Two hours later, Jack had packed and saddled the horses, the three of them left the ranch without any fanfare, heading south-east, through the forests. Jesse and Mel were several yards in front of him, talking quietly to each other as they rode. Jack trailed behind, his horse pulling the travois which carried all the girl’s important possessions, plus the food and bedding for the trip.
After about an hour, the two girls stopped whispering, and slowed their horses until they were side-along with Jack. Jack immediately became nervous. Nothing happened. Then, after a few minutes, both girls reached out, simultaneously, and each grabbed one of the lumps in his jeans.
Jesse, on his left, whispered into his ear, “Just think . . . ten days of these eggs of yours in our grip, doing whatever we want to them. Could a woman ask for more?” Jack was starting to whimper from the nut pain.
Mel increased her one-handed grip on his right ball and whispered, “You’re going to have to prove you’re a man. Every step of the way. Otherwise, we may have to pass judgment over our father’s statement and make sure you never come back.”
Both kept squeezing their respective nut as the three horses cantered on, until all Jack could do was vomit over the side of the horse. Disgusted, the girls let go of his manhood, and rode forward so their little pussy-whipped “man” could gather himself.
After a day of travel, they reached a small clearing by a stream which would be their camp for the night. Naturally the girls simply found a nice place to sit and chat, and let Jack do all the work. He first had to care for the horses, fetching buckets of water for them. Then he stripped off their harnesses and brushed them down. Then he threw their sleeping blankets over them and put a feed bag on their nose.
Next Jack had to set up a stone circle for the fire, fetch wood from the surrounding area, and get a fire going, and start cooking food for the three of them. As he did this, the girls simply talked, utterly ignoring all the work he was doing.
They had brought just enough food to last them the ten days, and just enough supplies to help them reach their destination. There was no margin for error on this trip, short though it was.
As Jack was cooking the sausages, bacon and biscuits, all he could think about was trying to see it through to the end. Successfully. He was determined to live up to everyone’s expectations. He couldn’t even consider going back home without fulfilling a man’s duties.
Finally Mel’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “We think that since you’re the man of the group, you should provide entertainment for us after dinner, each night.”
“What kind of entertainment?” asked Jack with a tremble in his voice.
“Oh, you’ll see. Just do everything we say, and it will be a blast. Well, for us anyways.” She smiled evilly. When dinner was served, they ate their sausages with relish. Then, the conversation took a chilling twist.
“Mel, don’t you think these sausages look just like a penis? Like those big horse dongs we cut off all the time? And then cook for everyone to eat during drives?”
“Yeah, or the ones so easily chopped off of bulls. Mmm. They’re spicy, and rich,” Mel replied.
“I wonder what a guy’s dick would taste like?” mused Jesse languidly, as she chewed her sausage slowly, and gazed deep into Jack’s eyes. A cold chill played along his spine, and he could feel his penis shrivel and his testes retreat into their cavity.
Once the food was done, and Jack had cleaned up and prepped their sleeping tents, the girls told him to stand still. Then they ordered him to drop his pants for them. Reluctantly he complied.
“No, take them completely off. And go stand next to the fire.” Mel and Jess went and sat next to the fire while Jack just stood there, embarrassed. The two girls picked up long sticks, stuck some marshmallows on the end of them, and let them roast in the fire.
“Mel, don’t you think this would be the best way to roast Jack’s balls? I mean, if we were forced to eat them for whatever reason.”
“You bet. I know exactly what would happen, too. They’d begin to glow red, then sizzle, and finally pop, splitting open like a hotdog.”
Jack couldn’t believe they were talking this way, but then they always did. Plus eating a bull’s bollocks was actually pretty common on a ranch, so to do it to their cousin wasn’t a stretch of their imagination. Nor his. He shivered.
“Look. Our man is imagining his balls on the ends of these sticks too. That’s so perverted. I think he needs to be punished.”
“I agree.” Mel motioned for him to come over. Jack obeyed. “Lie down on your back.” He reluctantly complied.
“From now on, every night, we’re going to kick those oysters of yours so much that you’ll stay wide awake all night. I want someone to be listening for bears and bobcats, and we’ve agreed that the man should do that.”
“Spread them. We’re going to stomp your balls good.” They each took and ankle, leaving him helpless, and then slammed their boots into his testicles. He knew they’d only make it worse if he tried to protect himself, so he kept his hands out of the way and just let them. It was a gut wrenching experience, but at least it would be over soon. They left him there, a wounded pile of maleness, while they snuggled down in their canvas tents, smiling at his soft moaning.
“Don’t forget to listen for predators, dear cousin,” said Jesse before drifting off to sweet sleep.
The next morning both the sky and Jack looked grey. He probably actually had tried to keep the three of them safe, and the two girls smirked at each other. What a dutiful idiot he was.
They broke camp and made their way down the many canyons ahead. Their horses’ hooves skittered and slid over the shale, and the clattering sound echoed off the trees. Jesse fell back.
“You’re making too much noise with that clumsy mare of yours.” She smashed her fist into his jewels, then reached in to squeeze them, and pulled hard. She hissed into his left ear, “Learn to ride.” She rejoined her sister, while Jack moaned and nursed his nads, but his mare didn’t take a lick of notice and plodded on.
Next Mel fell back. She saw the fear in Jack’s eyes and smiled at it. Mel didn’t mess around. She deftly unclasped his belt while he watched her in shock and let her slide her hands down to grab his livelihood. She squeezed both his cock and balls (especially his balls) until his eye’s watered.
“You need to ride faster and quieter. We’re not going to keep to our schedule if you continue to hold us up.” She isolated his smaller right nut and pressed her thumb into it. Jack grunted.
“That’s right, you’re the man here, and we don’t want you to forget it. Now speed up!” She ripped her hand out of his pants, making sure to bruise his penis and scrape his ball sack in the process.
Jack buckled himself back up and did his best to comply. The problem was that the travois made too much noise but threatened to burst apart if he sped up. Clearly his cousins didn’t care, and were just looking for ways to abuse him.
That night’s entertainment was especially fun for the girls.
“Let’s try and pull his balls apart and . . . the first one to make him scream gets to bust him all day tomorrow.” Jesse grinned at the thought of that reward.
“Sounds good,” replied Mel. They pulled his pants down, each gripped a nut, tied their own ropes around each one, and then stepped back. Then, they pulled as hard as they could, as if playing tug’o’war with his testicles in the middle. Jack grimaced. His cousins were strong. He could see his nuts stretched in opposite directions, and he was sure they were going to tear them right off.
“Make him howl, sis.” Jess frowned as she tried to pull his left nut off.
“Always do,” replied Mel, straining to pull off his right.
Finally Jack screamed, his shrill voice echoing off into the forest.
“I think that was you, Jes.”
“I think you’re right. Neat!” The ropes were release, and Jack just fell to his knees and cried as he held himself.
“Don’t get too comfortable, cousin. You still need your nightly punishment.”
Jack looked up at her with tears in his eyes.
“Now, now,” said Mel soothingly. “A real man should be able to endure anything, right? Tell us how much you want to entertain us. Tell us how fun your punishment is.”
What choice did Jack have? He put his hands behind his back, spread his knees and lowered his head.
“I need to be punished,” he said in a croak. He didn’t want them to see the tears trickling down his cheeks.
The two girls stood on either side of him and jammed their boots into his dangling huevos. They were really getting swollen after two days of abuse.
He didn’t sleep at all that night. He was cold, in terrible pain, and writhed silently for almost two hours. But he was up and about at the crack of dawn, heating water for breakfast and for washing.
For the entire ride, the next day, Jesse demanded that he ride with his tackle on display, his naked nuts resting on the saddle. Jesse then took every opportunity to punch them, squeeze them, flick them and pound them into the hard leather. She also squeezed, yanked and dug her fingernails into his flaccid penis, leaving it with bruises and scars all over.
The whole thing was especially difficult for Jack because he not only had to endure it, but he had to keep his horse from being startled or bolting. So it meant he couldn’t make any loud sounds or respond with fear. His face turned scarlet as he held in his pain, and his breath. It was a long day.
That night the girls made him stand by the fire with a can of water hanging from his scrotum. He just had to stand there, for an hour and a half while the girls traded gossip about their prospective husbands and new family. They’d also tied his hands behind his back so that he couldn’t help support the can’s weight. His nuts felt like they were being ripped out by their roots. Which they probably were. All Jack could think was how he was unlikely to sire children after this trip.
The next night was the same thing, but this time the girls wanted more active entertainment. While the can swung between his legs, Jack was forced to jack-off into the fire for them. They wanted to see his jism spurt right into the campfire, and not just once, but five times. Most guys have difficulty cumming more than twice in a row. Five in a row was nearly impossible. And painful too. When a guy cums, his nuts pull back into the body to massage out sperm. Kind of difficult to do with them hanging halfway down to the knees.
Mel and Jesse taunted him and teased him all the while, giggling at his efforts to please them, his beet-red face, his swollen red cock, and the feeble attempts of his balls to contribute to the effort. His scrotum kept trying to pull up, cords tightening in vain, trying to release some real drop of virility, but only opalescent water spurting into the flickering flames. The spunk sputtered and popped as it hit the inferno, and the sisters clapped.
“Oh, good job, little man. That’s two. We can’t wait for the next one. Of course a real man should be able to do it, what, seven or eight times? But we know how difficult everything is for you, being so . . . small.”
Jack grimaced as he attempted to entertain them again, and then again and again. That night’s regular punishment was especially painful – both his cock and his balls were worn out from the effort to ejaculate. While he moaned, they made him get on all fours and then they kicked his junk from behind, slamming their pointy boots into his soft parts. Mel and Jesse loved to kick a guy when he was down.
For the entire ride the next day, Jack was puking every half-hour or so. It hurt that bad.
About halfway through the trek, Mel suddenly stopped. Jesse stopped with her, and eventually so did Jack. The brief pause gave him time to hurl, once more, over the side of his horse.
“Shut up dung-head!” exclaimed Mel. She got down off her horse and bent down to examine the loam beneath their feet. Finally she straightened up.
“Bear scat,” she said solemnly. “And the tracks of a mother and three cubs. There must be a den nearby.”
“What should we do?” asked Jesse.
“We should be cautious,” was the reply. “And quiet.”
“How are we going to keep the testoid quiet?”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way, Jes.”
In ten minutes they were on their way again, and there was Jack, hands tied behind his back, his mouth full of rags, and Jesse leading his horse by a long tether. He stayed that way all day long, and it was a testament to his riding skills that he didn’t fall off.
That night there was no entertainment, just quiet eating and some muted conversation. Until bedtime, that is. Mel ordered Jack to strip. Completely. As usual, he just gave in. Soon he was naked, shivering in the cold, dark night. Jesse brought over a pot of honey and smeared it all over his cock and balls, making sure to squeeze his testes firmly when she did.
“Little cousin, we’ve decided to sacrifice your manhood for our safety. We’re going to tie you up, naked to that stump over there, and if a bear comes our way she’s going to smell honey on you. While she’s chowing down on your jiffies, we’ll wake up from your screams and get away. How does that sound?” Mel was smiling with sweet cruelty as she said this.
“Oh no. Please, no. I beg you. Please!”
“You do want us to be safe, don’t you? A real man would do anything to save a lady. Two ladies. What do you think your uncle would say?” She was asking a real question.
Jack paused for a few seconds, then dropped his head. He had no choice. Their safety was more important than his manhood. “He’d tell me to be a gentleman, and do my duty.”
“Precisely. Now, get your ass on that stump.”
He dutifully laid with his back on the severed tree, and his arms and legs hanging over its edges. While he watched them, the girls tied his wrist and ankles and anchored them with some tent pegs. He just lay there, resigned to his fate, letting his cousins make an offering of his genitals just so they could sleep easy. Then they put a saddle bag under his butt so that his groin was thrust into the air and forcing his back to arch. His manhood was at the perfect height for being dined upon. Finally the two girls tied a rope behind his cock and balls so that they stuck straight up.
“Comfortable?” asked Mel sarcastically.
Jack looked down at himself and then shook his head “no”.
Mel smashed her fist into his bulging nuts. “Good. See you in the morning. What’s left of you, that is.”
The night passed slowly for Jack. Every part of him was in pain. The cold, damp tree stump, the stricture of his restraints, his lower back which ached from being in an unnatural position for seven hours, and finally his abused balls, pulsing in their bondage and clammy from the sticky honey. But . . . no bear came to eat them.
When dawn broke, a sleepy Jesse came out to pee. She was actually kind of disappointed that Jack was still a man. When Mel finally got up, she was disappointed too.
“Well, now that you’ve lazed around all night, it’s time for you to fix us breakfast, honey-nuts. And be cheerio about it.”
Jack cried softly to himself the entire time. The tears nearly froze to his face – he was still naked, you see.
That day’s ride was just a hazy blur for Jack. He’d had no sleep, every inch of his body hurt, and his cousins showed him no sympathy. Every bounce of his horse caused his inflamed and swollen groin to grind against the saddle, provoking more unbearable pain.
But what was worse is that Mel found three more bear tracks that day. So – it was another night of being tied up. This time to a tree, standing upright and still against it. He stood there for seven hours, through the night, naked, freezing, with his balls tied up and weighted down with the can. After that night they never retracted into his body again. His cousins had permanently damaged him.
The next evening the girls had something special planned for him. As he was fixing a dinner of biscuits and ham, Mel went to get something from her saddle bags. It was a long iron brand. The business end was shaped like a vagina, and heaven knows where she had acquired it. One of the ranch hand’s jokes, perhaps? She nonchalantly placed it in the fire to heat up. Jack gulped. He could see what was coming.
“Tonight, dear cousin, we’re going to make sure the world knows just what kind of man you are, if you’re a man at all. Pull down those jeans of yours and lean over your saddle.”
Jess was laughing hysterically at the situation. “What a lame person you are, Jack. Letting yourself be branded a pussy.” But Jack, despite his absolute loathing at this humiliation, nevertheless did as he was instructed.
Mel waited until the iron was glowing a translucent red/orange, and then walked over to him. His butt was up in the air and his head was down, accepting that this was an inevitable event. Why shouldn’t they brand him? He was already pussy whipped. Why not prove it to the world?
Jesse stood next to Mel, and watched as her sister quickly and expertly jabbed his right buttock with the red-hot poker. Jack screamed so loud you probably could have heard it twenty miles away. Mel didn’t just jab it, she held it against his skin, savoring the sizzling sound his flesh made. Jack actually passed out, and woke up in the middle of the night, freezing again. He did his best to pull up his pants, gingerly, and finally get some sleep. The attempt was not particularly successful.
Several days later they had made it out of bear country and they were only one night away from their destination. Despite his delirium, Jack started warming up with the thought that his hell would soon be over. But then, naturally, tragedy struck. When the three of them had stopped for a short rest break, and a little light lunch, Jack made the mistake of not tying up his mare, and when he accidently dropped his tin plate, the clattering sound it made caused the horse to bolt, and not only bolt but to gallop clean out of sight, never to return. The horse took the travois with it, along with all their food, clothing and supplies. At first, they were all dumbfounded, unable to believe what had just happened. Then Mel’s temper exploded.
“You ASS! There just went all of our supplies. You idiot! What the hades were you thinking??? You’ll pay for this, you little runt!” Mel’s eyes were practically glowing with hatred.
“What are we going to do for food, Mel?” asked Jesse plaintively. Not that they weren’t both tough enough to probably go a week without food, but the thought of their pleasant ball-busting trip ending on a sour note made Jesse rather upset. All Jack could do was cower in shame. His already cold body flashed to freezing and he started to feel faint. He was really going to pay for this one, sure as shooting.
“We’ll figure that out later, dear sister. Let’s get this little piss-ant onto a horse and get moving.”
As their first punishment to him, Mel had Jack ride with her. She made him take off his pants and mount the horse before she got on. She pulled his distended sack in front of him, hopped on, and then sat directly on his testicles. The two of them rode that way for about an hour until Jesse said it was her turn. Each girl got an illicit thrill of having their curvaceous asses bouncing up and down on their cousin’s precious nuts. When they got to a flat glade, they increased their speed to a slow gallop. Now his long nuts were flopping all over the place and Mel’s ass pounded his nuts into mush.
After stopping for another meal, Mel had an idea. She took what few supplies they had saved from the spooked horse (some items had simply fallen off the travois), and made a little sled from some sticks, tied together with reeds. Then, she had the naked Jack bend over. She grasped his loose, grapefruit sized nuts, and tied a length of rope around them. This she tied to the sled.
“Now that the pack horse is gone, I’ve decided you should inherit the position. You’ll be pulling these supplies with your worthless nuts, and you’re going to keep up with us, or I’ll cut of your nuts myself. In fact by the end of the day, I might just cut them off anyway.” Mel winked at Jesse.
Jack’s head was down, both to hide his tears again, but also partly in shame. He agreed that he should be punished. Only a complete greenhorn would forget to tie up a horse.
So, for the rest of the day, he pulled that thing solely by his overstretched oysters. They actually began to tear inside. He could feel the damage being done to his delicate spermatic tubes, and he really had to work to keep up with the girls. He was too preoccupied to notice them talking to each other in low voices.
When he finally collapsed and couldn’t go another step, her heard Mel sigh loudly. “Well, the wimp has gone as far as he can. I guess this is as good a place to camp as any.”
For some reason the girls let him rest, let him pull up his pants to hide his shame while they set up camp, humming to themselves, and accomplishing the whole thing twice as fast as he could.
“Come over here, little cousin, and join us. You must be thirsty after being a mule all day.” Jack was suddenly wary of this change in attitude, but he really was thirsty, and crawled over to partake of some freshly brewed coffee.
“That’s it. Now, what should we have for dinner?” said Mel, out loud.
“Well, sis, we’ve lost all of our meat, our vegetables, our flour, our butter. Even our bacon. I guess that leaves us with only one food source.” Both girls turned to look at Jack. He couldn’t fathom what they were talking about, and stared at them over the rim of his tin coffee cup. He watched their intense gaze travel to his groin.
“Why, I think you’re right, Jes. Dad always said that castration was not only good for the animals, but also a good source of protein when food was scarce.”
“But how should we harvest them?” said Jesse thoughtfully.
“Well, never fear. I brought along a burdizzo to use at our new husbands’ ranch, and I think we’ve just found a good use for it.”
Jack was in too much shock to even process what they were saying. He couldn’t believe it. Even Mel and Jesse wouldn’t go this far. Hadn’t they even a shred of compassion or kindness for him? He choked on the searing hot coffee and tears welling in his eyes.
“Look, he’s crying over the loss of his manhood. How endearing.”
“Well, it is a noble thing of him to do. Maybe he’s a real man, after all.” Jesse smiled innocently at him.
“Oh my god. You’re serious,” said Jack. “You can’t mean it. You wouldn’t hurt me that much . . . would you?” There was fear in his eyes. No, terror.
“Of course we could. Survival 101. Eat what you can, when you can get it. And since I don’t feel like killing one of our horses, you’re the next best thing. Besides, Jes and I like eating Rocky Mountain Oysters. So do you, as I recall. How many times have we all chewed on tough horse testes? Or eaten slices of bull balls? Too many to count, really. So don’t look on it as a difficulty. See this as a natural extension of our survival. You wouldn’t like us to go a night without eating would you?”
Jack looked at her numbly.
“And besides,” interjected Jesse, “You did promise dad you’d see us to the Smith’s property safely.”
It was true, he’d given his word, and he always kept his word.
“Of course we could wait until you’re asleep and just take them from you, so you might as well give them to us right now. Willingly. It’s so heroic to think you’d want us to eat your fries, just for our benefit. What do you say? I mean, we could hold you down while you struggled, but why waste precious energy?”
For exactly a minute Jack struggled with an inner war. Should he do the manly thing and sacrifice himself for their well-being, or should he run away now and leave them to torture someone, or something else? There must be game somewhere in the forest they could hunt. But he could see how convenient his testicles must be for them. Back and forth he went in a heated argument with himself, until at last he thought of his father. His father, who was the most noble person he’d even known, and he knew his father, the perfect gentleman and the toughest of cowboys, would have willingly offered himself for the survival of others.
Jack’s head dropped. He just stood up, shaking slightly. He slowly unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down. He stepped out of his boots, then his jeans and stripped off his shirt. He stood there, stark naked, all reservations put aside, and waited for them to emasculate him. He didn’t even have to say a word, he just cupped his cock and balls and held them out for their removal.
“Excellent! Let me go get the equipment for his . . . equipment.” Mel sprung up and got some rope and the burdizzo and a bowey knife. Jack just stood there, waiting. Mel returned. Jesse held Jack’s arms behind him so they could be tied together, and Mel set the knife at the edge of the fire to heat up. Then they stood together in front of him.
“Jesse, I think we should have a little fun before we have supper. All that riding has given me a cramp, and it would be fun to stretch my legs.”
Jesse caught on in a flash. “Me too. Jack, any ideas on how we can amuse ourselves?”
Jack looked at them for a moment, then gave them a smile that was more like a grimace. He knew exactly what they wanted. He spread his legs and left his hanging balls open for them. The girls grinned at each other.
“I’ll go first,” said Mel. She stood in front of Jack and lifted his head with one finger so she was looking straight into his eyes. She smiled sweetly, and then brought her knee up straight into his soft groin. She thrilled at the look of the pain they filled with. She could see that they’d broken him, like a young colt finally made a willing mount. She kneed him five or six times, feeling his fat nuts bend and warp. Finally Jes spoke up.
“Hey, it’s my turn!”
Mel was breathing deeply now, this was exciting. “Sorry. Your turn.”
Jesse circled round until she was behind her cousin. “Can you spread your legs some more?”
Jack whimpered, but complied. He spred them as wide as he could without risking falling over. Jesse could see his big, bloated testicles silhouetted against the camp fire, flickering in the cold evening air.
“Perfect!” WHAM, she kicked from behind, nailing his nuts and his anus. WHAM, WHAM, WHAM. She rammed her boot tip into his jewels as hard as she could.
“Let’s get them as large as possible, Jesse. I’m hungry.”
“Me too!” WHAM. Jack was now moaning and coughing a lot. Mel and Jes took their time going back and forth, trying to swell his testicles to the limit of their potential. Finally, it was time to clamp them.
“OK, skunk weed, bend over and take it like a man. We’re going to clamp those huge eggs of yours. And don’t fidget, I don’t want to have to do this twice.”
Jack moaned, wobbling a lot. Despite having his arms tied he was able to bend over himself. From between his own legs, Jack could see Mel pick up her burdizzo and walk over to him. She’d done this a million times on animals and handled the tool with terrifying nonchalance.
“Here we go. Tell you what, little cousin. I’ll let you choose the ball I harvest first. I think you should get to share in our fun.” She was fondling them, feeling their weight and density. ‘These should be nice and tender by now,’ she thought.
Mel squeezed the bollock in her hand as hard as she could. “Come on, you lily livered lay-about, which one do I clamp first?”
Jack coughed. “Take my right ball first, then.” He coughed again. There was really no way to get out of this now, so he might as well go along for the ride. Being male, he’d always secretly wondered what it felt like to crush a male animal’s ball cords. He’d assisted doing it so many times himself, watching claves and foals twitch as they lost their livelihood, and full grown steers and stallions bellow in pain. Now he was going to find out.
Mel squeezed out his swollen right ball, pulled it taught, and maneuvered the burdizzo over it. Then she let go of the ball and squeezed the handles as hard as she could. Jack yelped and whimpered while she held them closed, crushing the ball’s lifeline. She counted to sixty and then let go. She groped the ball to make sure it was floating free. It was.
Now she shifted to the left ball. It naturally hung lower. She decided this was the one she was going to eat. Again, the pulling and then the clamping. This time Jack’s whimpering turned into a sort of whine. Like a dog being kicked in the bollocks repeatedly – the cry of something living in agonizing submission. Count to sixty, and let go. Now both balls had been detached. Jack collapsed.
“But,” said Jesse, “What about his cock?”
“Opps, you’re right.” The two of them rolled Jack over. Jesse stood above him, and Mel began to stroke his battered member. Jes unbuttoned her plaid shirt and Jack eventually opened his eyes and watched. Soon her pert breasts were hanging above him and Jes was massaging her nipples. Naturally, as the only two females on the ranch, Jack had secretly fantasized about his cousins (not that he would ever admit it, of course), but he really did think of them both on the rare occasion he found the privacy to masturbate. He’d never envisioned this, though.
His thick cock began to stiffen. It was a big one. Not only large, but fat and thick. It was a cowboy’s pecker in the truest sense. Mel stroked it until it was hot in her hand. It was amazing to her that with all this abuse, he could still get horney. A testament to men’s slavery to sex. When his rod had reached its maximum girth, Jesse covered herself up and fetched the bowey knife. She bent down.
“Say goodbye to your sausage, Jack.” Jack cried out before the deed was even done. Jesse held the rigid cock and flicked her wrist. The member detached with full cauterization. She examined the organ and then put it in the cast iron skillet.
Mel now got underneath Jack, and held his legs open with her own.
“Perfect!” exclaimed Jesse. “Ready Jack? Mmm. These are going to taste so good. I’m glad we were able to save the skillet and the fat. I’m going to fry these to a crisp.” Jack watched as she slowly, painfully, slit open his sack and fished out his big white oysters, one by one. Seeing them outside his own body made him dizzy, and soon he fainted dead away. It was cold and dark for a long time.
At some point he half roused. It was dawn, and he heard his cousins packing up for the last leg of their journey. He could have sworn he heard Jesse say, “Man those were good. Much better than a horse’s.”
“Yeah. They tasted like bacon, though a bit tougher.”
“Mmmm. Maybe we can get our new husbands to donate some of theirs. I can only imagine twins’ balls would taste identical.”
Mel laughed. “Men will do anything for some nookie. I bet we could get them to serve us their own balls on silver platters.”
Bereft of his cock and balls. Ice cold. Tied up. It was the last thing Jack ever heard.
Later on that day, Melinda and Jesse were united with their new family, their new home, and were greeted by all the extended family. The girls were quite pleased with their new situation. Their husbands were handsome cowboys – tough, rugged, buff and sexy. Real men, in other words. Their parents-in-law were gracious hosts, and obviously liked the two girls. After dinner, Shane, the father asked them politely how their trip was.
“Oh,” said Mel, ”rather uneventful.”
“Ah,” he replied. “Well I was under the impression that you were to be chaperoned by your cousin. That’s what the letter said.”
“Oh, we were. I’m afraid our little cousin ran afoul of some bears. There are an awful lot of them around here.”
“That’s . . . terrible. What happened? Is he OK?”
“Well, if they hadn’t eaten him then, they probably have by now.” Mel smirked at Jesse, sharing the private joke.
“Well, I’m so sorry. He must have been very brave to sacrifice himself for your safety.”
Jesse replied this time. “All I can say, Mr. Smith, is that, in the end, Jack proved himself to be a man. All man. A true gentleman in the best tradition of our family. He also turned out to be a man of . . . good taste. Rather a surprise, actually.”
“Yes,” commented Mel, “And speaking of which, what’s for dessert?”