(M human/M animal) The Ballbusting Ranch - NEW

So here is my latest submission. DON'T WORRY, this site isn't going to become an animal busting site, but when a long time reader shared with me his real life experiences crushing testicles I just had to put it into a story. So, some of these activities are actually real and just think on this - someone has actually crushed a testicle while still attached . . . . and it wasn't you.

 

ps. sorry for the weird formatting in one part but there was something wrong with the Word file, and it was all I could do to make the text visible in that section.

The Ballbusting Ranch

 
I had put down the paper and the advert. ‘This was it! This is the answer,’ I said to myself.

Hi, my name is James Harriet, and I am a 26 year old small animal vet. I live in Mendocino Ca, and have my own private practice there where all the people know me and everything is blissful. Well, almost. See there’s this thing that I’ve always wanted to do, and I can’t, or at least I didn’t think it was possible. I’ve always wanted to burst a testicle on a male while it’s still attached. I want to feel the thing between my fingers just burst and split its seams. Naturally as a vet I’ve done a jillion castrations, but that’s not the same as having a real, live pulsing testicle in your hands and then squeezing down on it until it just gives. And that’s what I wanted to do, so badly. Every time I saw a guy in porn with beautiful balls or a dog come in with a hefty set of hangers I’d imagine doing wicked things to them. But of course, being a respectable member of society my outward façade never betrayed even a flicker of my inner impulses and it wasn’t until I found this advertisement in a zoophilia zine that ever felt my outer life could reflect the inner one.

The advertisement read, “Have you ever wanted to castrate an animal the old fashioned way? Have you ever wanted to take part in the complete destruction of a male? Then save up your money and your sperm and come visit us at the Ballbusting Ranch! Five days of guaranteed pleasure. Price: $50,000 for 5 days, food and lodging included. Call 1-800-POP-THEM and set up a reservation NOW!”.

The price was a little steep, but if it meant what I thought it meant, that I would get to nut some animals, then great and it would be well worth it. I mean it would be better to nut some guy, but since the possibility of that was virtually nil, then animals would be the next best thing!

I called and made a reservation and discovered that the ranch was only open during the spring and fall, and it was already winter, which was perfect because it gave me half a year to save up my money. My practice was rather lucrative, so by the time it came to pay the bill, and adding a little something from my savings, I was more than able to pay for it.

So, when May came around, I was more than ready for my adventure. I packed, said goodbye to my friends and left. The ranch was in the bottom right hand corner of Wyoming, not too far from Cheyenne. So, I flew to Denver and then rented a car and drove north. The landscape was open prairie and beautifully vast with mountains in the distance. I drove for a while, following the directions on my smart phone until I turned off on a long, unmarked road. The tires growled their way along the dirt road until I passed under a wooden arch welcoming me, “The Ball Busting Ranch.” Underneath that was the ranche’s motto “The Ranch Hand is the toughest breed”. ‘What an odd motto,’ I thought. I kept driving a ways until I reached the main building of the ranch. It was almost sunset on Sunday, and I was tired and hungry. I parked in the small lot, and got out. The air smelled of hay and horses. It was a true ranch. I walked to the main building and entered. There was a handsome man in jeans and a plaid shirt standing behind a desk. He looked at me and said, “Mr. Harriet?”.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, putting on my best smile. I wondered if all the help was as good looking as this guy.

“Great. I have some paperwork for you to fill out and then you’ll be taken off to your cabin. I’ll have your dinner sent to you there.”

“Uhm. OK. Thanks,” I replied. I couldn’t help but stare at his bulge, just below his huge belt buckle. He sat down, I sat down, and we cleared up the red tape. And then, out of nowhere, five male teens appeared and offered to help me with my bags. They were all wearing cowboy hats and boots, and jeans and plaid shirts. It seemed to be the uniform of the “West”. I led them out to my car and they got all my luggage. Then they led me to my cabin. My cabin was one among many all set in the same area. It was small but perfectly equipped. There was a huge bed and a couch, a dining table, a bathroom with a shower and a tub and a toilet. It was warm and cozy and my helpers opened my suitcases and put away my cloths into various bureaus and armoires. They were quick, quiet and efficient, and handsome. And instead of leaving me when they were done, they all began to undress. I was astonished. The five teens methodically removing their cloths until they were in nothing but their cowboy hats, boots and underwear.

“Uhm,” I said. “Is this part of the service or something?”

The boys smiled and looked at each other smugly. The blond one spoke.

“You get to choose one of us to be your companion for the week, Sir. We’re trained to take care of all your needs. Inspect us. Choose the one you like the most.”

“Is this for real?” I asked. “Are you joking?”

“It’s all real, sir. We’ve been extensively trained to cater to your every whim.”

“Aren’t you all too young?” I said this as if I were actually concerned about the issue, but in fact I was already getting hard at the thought of plowing any one of them.

The black haired one spoke, “Age of consent in Wyoming is 17, sir. We’re all 17. Don’t make us wait, sir. Inspect us. Give us all a test ride. We’re ready. We’re willing. Try it.” He said all this staring straight ahead. In fact all five of them were staring straight ahead, their hands clasped behind their backs and their packages on display.

Now I wasn’t hard on the eyes either. I’m on the tall side, six foot, with a hard muscular body and very little body hair. I ran every day and went to the gym three or four times a week. I was four inches soft and eight inches hard, and nicely shaped with two pendulous balls in a heavy sack. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a good jawline. Well, that was my assessment of myself, so I sized each one up.

“Can I touch you?” I asked.

“Of course sure. Touch us, tweak us, inspect us. We’re ready. And willing.” The blond boy smiled.

So I ran my hands over each one’s muscled chest and I tentatively groped each one’s package. None of them made a move to stop me, I pulled down their underwear to get a better look at what they were packing and stroked some cock, tweaked some sacks and squeezed some balls. In the end, I liked their blond leader’s goods most, so I said, “You, I choose you,” as I gently pulled on his balls. The blond boy’s mouth split into a huge self satisfied grin, and the other boys broke formation, gathered their things and left.

 

 Soon I was alone with just him, and he suggested we take a shower before retiring to bed. I removed my cloths and let him start the water. He was naked, I was naked, and both of us were hard. We got into the steaming shower and both stood under the water. We explored each other’s bodies, then he went down on me, kneeling between my legs. His hot, warm mouth engulfed my member and I let out a big sigh. He was obviously adept at sucking dick because he took in most of my length, and had the sucking power of a Hoover. When he came up for air I kissed him, sucking in his tongue and chewing lightly on his lips. Oh, his lips were so soft. Then I went down on him. I took his young cock in my mouth and swallowed it whole. It was divine. So springy and vibrant. It must have been at least seven inches, a respectable size for someone of his age. I tongued his slit, winkling out a few drops of precum. Mmmm. It was sticky and sweet. He moaned, so I kept up the sucking and pistoned my head like I was a seal swallowing a fish. In, out, in, out.

Finally I stopped and stood up. We lathered each other with the lavender scented soap and I paid special attention to his cherry hole. I planned to plow it the moment we got out of the shower. We rinsed, turned off the water and toweled each other dry. Then it was off to the bed. We slipped ourselves under the covers and I told him to lie on his stomach. I began to gently finger his tight hole and eventually managed to get three fingers in. He was ready. I lined up my cock and slid it inside of him. Oh, the heaven. It was warm and tight, and wet from the shower. He moaned a little, probably from the pressure of my cock on the insides of his sigmoid intestine, but he didn’t tell me to stop, so I continued. I began to pump him, slower at first and then faster and faster. My fat balls began to slap themselves on his taint and I bit the back of his neck, gently of course, but hard enough to make him feel pressure in two places at once. He obviously enjoyed this because he pressed his ass against my pelvis with each thrust, making sure my cock buried itself as deeply as possible inside of him. It also made his own cock rub against the bottom sheets, bringing him one step closer to ejaculation.

I was making my usual sexual vocalizations; lots of “fuck yeahs” and “shit you’re good”. After about five minutes of some heavy pounding I felt my nuts begin to tighten and I knew I was about to burst. “I’m gonna cum inside of you,” I whispered into his ear. He moaned in response and then said, “Fill me with your load. Fill me.”

And fill him I did. My cum boiled out of my balls and prostate and exploded inside of him, deep in his warm, dark cave. Oh, it felt so good. The orgasm drew upon all of the life vitality in my body, right down to my toes, and it spurted into his niche. Sticky and blood-hot. I continued for a while, pumping until I was soft, then I disengaged. I lay on my back and told him, “Feed me your cum.” The boy grinned and kneeled over my face, then he began to jack off while I sucked on his dangling balls. Faster and faster his hand slipped up and down the length of his cock, and with the other hand he caressed his own pecs and nipples. Soon his dick was pulsing with life and dribbling increasing amounts of prejack, which reached my mouth via his ballsack. A steady stream of sticky fluid was dripping onto my face and into my mouth. And then just as he was about to blow, he shoved his dick into my mouth and pumped himself to completion. His young stud spunk exploded into my mouth and I swallowed eagerly, drinking in his young, healthy, youthful vitality. I nearly choked on his ram rod, but he pulled out before I could. The last remnants of his juice spurted out onto my face, which he then leaned down and licked off me. Oh, it was so hot.

As he stroked out the last few drops of sperm, I looked up at him. “What’s your name?”I asked. “Tony Mandrose,” he said, “But everyone calls me T.M.” His whole body shuddered as his cum continued to drip. Again which he dutifully cleaned off my face with his pink tongue. We fell asleep together, and slept a calm, peaceful night away until early morning. Tim woke up before me and prepared a hot bath and ordered my breakfast for me. Bacon, eggs and toast with jam, a pot of coffee and some OJ. I woke up with the smell of his semen still in my nostrils, and let him bath and dress me.

“So what am I doing today?” I asked.

“Well, first you’ll get to choose your two dogs, then it’s lunch time, then you get to burst your fist pair of balls.”

“Wow. Excellent,” I said. “Are you going to have breakfast?”

“I already did, sir. We only have a liquid diet when we’re with a client. Cuts down on the number of enemas we have to use to keep ourselves cleaned out.”

“Oh, I see.” He showed me to the door, and I followed him out across the ranch to the kennels where there were lots of dogs in cages. It was there I met the owner of the ranch, Steve, who was a hot guy with a mustache and beard. He welcomed me to his ranch and told me to choose my two dogs. He told me that they were more than used to being touched on both the cock and the balls, and so not to be shy about handling them.

“These dogs are washed and groomed every three days, and their teeth and tongues are cleaned every day to keep the ‘dog smell’ under control.” And it seemed to be true because the dogs all smelled fresh and clean. All the dogs displayed the effects of excellent care – their noses were wet, their coats glossy, and their attitude perky. I went down the line. There were all sorts of breeds to choose from, but I knew I wanted two sets of balls that looked almost human. In the end I chose a great Dane with huge gray balls and an English bulldog with fat pink swingers.

There were several ranch hands, all of them handsome, tending to the dogs, and one of them let out the two dogs that I had picked. “Have a feel of their huevos before you decide finally, sir,” he said. “Present!” he said to the two dogs as I walked up to them and both dropped onto their backs and spread their legs for me. Clearly they’d been trained to accept handling of their balls.

“Our dogs are trained from an early age to accept and welcome both punishment and pleasure to their testicles,” commented the ranch hand. I first felt the great Dane’s nuts. They were large and rather hard. Far firmer than my own balls. “Give them a good squeeze, sir. Dogs like it rough,” said the ranch hand. I started to squeeze his big floppy nuts. Harder and harder I squeezed, but instead of whining, the dog just panted happily and started to sprout an erection. I’d never squeezed a dog’s balls before, and was fascinated by the sensation. Try as I might, though, I couldn’t pop them with my hands. I switched over to the bull dog, and the same thing happened with him. He just lay there, panting in pleasure while I tried to mangle his manhood.

“How am I supposed to burst these? It’s impossible with just my hands,” I said to Steve.

“Ah, that’s why we have these.” Steve handed me this large custom made plier thing. “Use this and you can crush testicles easily.”

 

 

“Ok. Sounds good,” I said. Me, the ranch hand and T.M. went back to our cabin with one of the dogs, the great Dane, while the other dog went back into his kennel, apparently to be brought out at some future date during my stay.


 

 

We got to my cabin and T.M. immediately undressed and then led the dog to a stationary frame which would hold him while we crushed his nuts. T.M. took the great Dane and secured him to the frame. The naked teenager beckoned me over.

"Look at these Mr. Harriet, nice big balls, we'll have a lot of fun outta these big balls.”

I reached down and groped the fat nuggets. They were completely solid and silky to the touch. The dog looked back at us with two bright eyes, and he seemed eager to give up his nuts to our orgasms. He was already panting. I looked down between his legs, and yup, he was getting hard too. T.M. reached in and started to stroke the dogs swollen cock, while I slipped my pants off, then my underwear, and let my raging boner breath free air. I positioned myself behind the bent over teenager, and prepared to enter him. I did so with a sigh of joy, he was slippery smooth, tight and warm. It was better than any vagina, as I recalled from my early days of being in the closet as a teen.

“I’ll show you how it works, sir,” T.M. brought out the plier device and positioned it around the dog’s right bollock, while I grabbed a hold of the dog’s left bollock. I started to pump and T.M. started to squeeze. The testicle started to flatten, and the dog started to croon softly. The dog’s ragged breathing indicated his horniness, and so did the drops of semen issuing from his turgid member. It coated the floor in a sticky glaze. I never imagined that a beast could be so happy to give up his nuts.

I rocked my hips back and forth, plunging in and out of T.M., all the while holding on to the Dane’s left nut. Through it I could feel the pressure building up as the pliers squeezed his right nut.

“Oh, yeah, Oh, yeah. You’re so big. Fuck yeah!” T.M. was making throaty vocalizations as I plowed his ripe cherry hole. The dog’s cock was swelling, and it was taking short breaths, while T.M. and I were breathing deeply, I watched as the pliers flattened the huge ball, and I could feel it bulging through his other ball.

I was groping the nut and fucking T.M. like there was no tomorrow. Slurp, slurp, slurp. I squeezed the ball in my hand as hard as I could, and a *little part of me felt sorry for the dog that he was about to become a eunuch, but such was the way of life for pets. At least he was going to get multiple orgasms from it. More than could be said for most neutering/spaying procedures. My own balls were slapping against T.M.’s ass as I buried my sword deep into his sheath.

“It’s about to go, Mr. Harriet,” shouted T.M. who was wrapped up in the twin pleasures of being buttfucked and crushing a testicle, and then it happened, the dog’s bollock exploded in the sack with a “squick” sound, and I could feel the thing explode while I held on to its brother. Oh, it was so good. The dog let out a howl as if to acknowledge the loss of half his manhood and a few ropy streams of semen gushed out the tip of his dick. T.M. was stroking his own cock now, getting ready for his own splooge-fest, and I was getting near to release too. He handed me the pliers and with one hand I fitted them around the dog’s remaining bollock. I squeezed it slowly to savor the stages of flattening the ball went through. I wanted to time its demise with my own orgasm. I squeezed and squeezed, and amazingly the ball began to warp. It wouldn’t be long now until it split its seams and exploded. The dog had gone back to its crooning and panting.

Pump, pump, pump, on and on I went plowing his fertile poop-shute until at last I felt the eminent tightening in my nuts. I whispered into his ear, “You ready, boy? I’m gonna cum and this ball’s gonna pop.” T.M. twisted his head and arched back to kiss me. “Fuck yeah,“ he replied as his own fist was pumping himself to completion.

“Here we go,” I said, “Here we go.” Faster and faster I pumped, harder and harder I squeezed, and then in one magnificent explosion all three of us males in the room rocketed to orgasm. I came, then the ball exploded and the dog came (for the last time in his life), and T.M. came, his seed spurting onto the wooden floor. My seed filled up his ass, making it even slicker, and I continued to buck my cum into him. Oh yeah, oh yeah. So good, so good. I was in heaven. I dropped the pliers and just grabbed the dog’s whole scrotum, and squished around the remains of his balls. They were deformed, and I could actually feel their insides ooze out into his ballbag as I squished and squeezed. The dog was also bucking his own seed out onto the floor and making litte “yip” noises as he did so, but panting happily too.

It was a while before we separated. T.M. twisted up to kiss me again, and I rubbed his sweat-slick body with one hand, and his left hand went down to join mine in mushing around of the dog’s destroyed nuts. We groped them and kissed deeply. It was so sexy, his body was so sexy. Lithe, muscular, tanned, trim. He stood up fully and turned to face me so we could kiss even deeper. He pressed his muscular chest against mine and we macked for a while until it was obvious that the dog needed to be attended to. Still naked, T.M. got out the castration kit and preceded to first administer a local anesthetic and then cut open the scrotum and fish out the two busted balls. It looked like a testicle soup, full of tan cells and edema and sperm. Then he stitched the whole thing up and packed it with antiseptic gel. The ranch hand who’d come with us had stood outside waiting for us to fuck and crush nuts, and now he came back inside, and collected the dog, who was led away back to the kennels, and there to be sold to some deserving civilian as a properly “fixed” pet. The new owner would never know that the dog had nobly sacrificed his balls so that sick fucks like me could get off on it.

“That’s some nice work, Tim. You must have done a fair number of castrations in your time.” We were now lying together on the bed.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing stuff like that since I was twelve. My dad owned a dude ranch, and we learned all the techniques for nutting male animals. My dad actually did it the old fashioned way, he’d open up the scrotum and bite through the cords with his teeth. He was tough as hell.”

“Mmmm. Sexy.” I said as I nibbled on T.M.’s delicate little ear. He was such a hot little honey. I held his tight body close to mine, and we both dozed for a while, taking an hour long nap. Then it was time for lunch. It was scrambled eggs, chicken fried steak with gravey and freedom fries. Mmm. So good. After getting dressed, T.M. and I went to stables, and we got to ride some horses into the countryside. It was beautiful, with the mountains in the background, and a clear stream running through it.

That night we had an outing to a campfire dinner where calf and horse testicles were roasted on a spit. It was the first time I’d ever eaten them. They were slightly tough and tasted like bacon, but they were good, and I wondered why they hadn’t made their way into common cuisine. The ranch hands told stories around the campfire about great castrations they’d participated in, especially with full grown horses or steers. Animals with huge, heavy nuts. Balls so big you couldn’t hold them in one hand.

T.M. and I returned to my cabin and we settled down to a night in front of a roaring fire. T.M. talked about his life on a ranch, herding cattle and sheep, getting up at the crack of dawn, and going to sleep at dusk. About an hour in, he unbuttoned my fly and went down on me. He was so talented at it. Suck, suck, suck. He squeezed my balls and popped them back and forth, giving me some pain to enjoy. It made me wonder what it would be like to lose my balls at the hands of some sadistic person just so they could get off. It made me shiver in exquisite terror.

I blew my load into his mouth, but I was still horny, so he got undressed, leaned over the edge of the bed and I fucked his ass raw. He came into the duvet and I came inside of him. We went to sleep that night thoroughly replete.

The next day started like the previous one – a bath, breakfast, and a walk out to the sheds. Today was going to be a cow castration, but with a twist. They were going to use a traditional Thai method of crushing a bull’s testicles. Not a calf, but a bull with huge swinging balls. I was going to get to watch and fuck T.M. while two of the ranch hands deballed a virile bull.

It was sunny and warm as T.M. and I positioned ourselves so we could watch the show. He dropped trow and so did I. They brought at the big Angus bull and simply tied up to the side of a shed with nothing but a rope through a nose ring. I was surprised at this, because I assumed they’d have to completely secure the bull’s four legs to keep it from thrashing about, but in fact the bull seemed simply resigned to his fate. He kept looking back at me like he knew what was coming.

“This bull has had a long, healthy life as a breeder and now his time has come,” commented Steve. “They seem to know that the end of their sex life is near and they rarely put up a struggle.”

Then the two ranch hands brought out a strange looking device. It was two long, thick, heavy bamboo rods, held together at one end with rope and open at the other end – like huge tweezers. The two men sat down underneath the bull and brought the bamboo device up to the top of the scrotum, and closed the ends to start crushing the balls’ cords. It made a loud “CRICK CRICK” sound as it did so, and I started plowing my stable lad. T.M. just moaned softly, and we both watched as the ball crushing device descended on the testicles themselves. The bull lowed loudly as his balls were pulverized from the tremendous strength the two ranch hands were exerting on them. “CRICK CRICK”. The two rods were turning the bulls big fat balls into soupy goo, and T.M. and I were loving every minute of it. I fucked the boy with abandon. They were now halfway through the thorough destruction of the bull’s nuts. The strange device cracked, creaked and snapped as it brutalized the bull’s bollocks. CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH. While I pump pump pumped. T.M. reached between both our legs to squeezed my balls while I fucked him. He knew I’d love to have a little sympathetic pain. And I did. I hurt so good. He squished around my fat balls while we watched the complete destruction of a male animal. The animal’s two fat balls were being squished to death by the device and I yelled out that I was close. T.M.’s hole was so tight and hot, and the sun was shining down on us, warming us and creating a slight sheen of sweat. I unbuttoned my shirt to let wind play against my chest. The bull was making low moans but he just let his balls get turned to mush. Talk about well trained cows!

MOOOOOOOOO. The bull’s nuts burst and I came into T.M.’s ass “Ah, SHIT, that’s good,” I said to no one in particular. The sun, the air, the mooing cow and his now crushed nuts, all felt so natural and so life-affirming. Still half naked the ranch hands invited me to come over and feel the remains of the bull’s destroyed balls. I popped out of T.M., pulled up my pants and reached underneath the bull to feel the huge testicles. They were soft and mushy, and sort of slippery, which big chunks of nut meat floating around inside a smooth sack. It was wonderful and warm and squishy. The cow mooed again, but didn’t sound displeased that his genitals were being mangled by me.

When I’d had enough of that, the ranch hands brought out a bowl and a knife and slit the whole scrotum open, and l watched as a soupy mess of stuff fell out. And soup it was going to be, because for lunch that day was testicle soup made from the bull we had castrated. It had lots of other things in it, but it was extraordinarily delicious and I enjoyed it immensely. The event that afternoon was riding up to a clear lake in the mountains where we all got naked (T.M., myself, and three ranch hands) and went skinny dipping in the warm air of spring. Then we laid out in the sun, naked, and naturally sex happened.

 

So it was a small intimate orgy of five people. I don’t usually bottom but I was double fucked this time, had a cock in my mouth, and one in my hand, pumping it furiously. By the end I was covered (and filled) with cum, and I enjoyed every second of it.

Later that evening it was just T.M. and I again, and this time he went down on me in the shower, and I blew my third load of the day right down his hot throat. I was exhausted by it all, and we went straight to bed, snuggling up to one another, warm and naked under a fluffy down comforter.

The adventure for the next day was a horse. Now horses are exceptionally sensitive creatures, so I was informed that they had been given anesthetic into both testicles and that they’d been specially trained to be comfortable with ball abuse.

My horse had huge brown/gray balls, and I gently held them, feeling the hot life-pulse of a not-so-wild stallion. It was amazing to hold a fully grown horses testicles, and they were so big I couldn’t fit the whole thing in my hand. They were oh so heavy and dense and delicious. Then the ranch hands described what was going to happen. First I was going to soften up the stallion’s big balls by kicking them from behind. Then while one of the ranch hands sucked the horse off, I would use a bigger version of the pliers I used on the dog to crush them. The trick would be to get the horse to cum at the moment of testicular destruction.

So, while one ranch hand held the horse steady, I went up behind it and began to kick its huevos. My boot made a healthy SMACKing sound as it connected sharply with the horse’s balls. The horse didn’t startle or bolt so I really laid into kicking them. WHAP WHAP WHAP. I could actually feel the balls warp and distort as my boot toe penetrated deep into the testicles’ hearts. I kicked that horse so hard that its body actually shifted with each kick. When they’d determined that I’d sufficiently softened the balls up, the ranch hands had me stop and handed me a pair of the pliers. One ranch hand started jacking the horse off, its big dong hanging down and already half hard, and T.M. kneeled underneath me and the horse, unzipped my pants, pulled out my raging hard-on, and started to suck me off. Boy, could that boy suck. I began to squeeze the bollock closest to me. Even with the added force provided by the pliers I could tell this was going to take all my strength. The testicles were just so damn huge. But spurred on by the force of T.M.’s mouth on my cock I knew I could do it. I knew I must do it. Harder and harder I squeezed the handles until the huge horse nut burst under the pressure with a big, wet SPLAT and I nearly came, but managed to suppress it. I wanted to release on the second ball.

Meanwhile the ranch hand had started sucking the tip of horse’s enormous cock. He was going down on the horse like a seal. The horse seemed to like that a lot, and didn’t seem to mind that half his manhood had just been taken away.

I repositioned the huge pliers and clamped down on the horses last ball. This testicle seemed to be softer than the other one, and perhaps I simply kicked it more times than the other. But whatever the cause I knew this one would take only a few seconds to crush. I told the ranch hand so, and his sucking increased to a furious pace. The horse started to buck his seed out and the huge testicle I was crushing flopped about a bit. Then all three things happened at once – I let out a huge yell as I dumped my load down T.M.’s thirsty gullet, the horse ball popped and the horse let a whinny as his own seed splooged into the ranch hand’s mouth. Apparently the phrase “came like a racehorse” was accurate because I could hear the ranch hand choking on the volume of semen being deposited in his mouth, but he also must have been used to it because I heard him chuckle.

I wanted in on the horse action, and pulled the ranch hand out from under the horse so I could kiss him and taste the horse’s cum in his mouth. It had a salty flavor, more so than a humans, but was every bit as alkaline. With the hand that wasn’t grabbing the ranch hand’s flannel shirt I was groping the ruined remains of the horse’s assets. Like the bulls they were squishy and lumpy and it was immensely satisfying to pulp. T.M. was still sucking on my cock although it had started to deflate, and the day was moved to completion by T.M. and I going back to the cabin and me eating a huge dinner followed by me fucking the boy again on the bed. I couldn’t get enough of him. Man he was a hottie.

The next day was a little different, we did the hiking in the morning, up the mountain along hard trails, and did the ball busting in the afternoon. Well, it was more testicle torture than ball busting. The bulldog I had picked out the first day was brought to the cabin and instead of just popping the ball, we stuck needles in his nuts and waggled them about inside to destroy tissues. T.M. showed me how to bend the last quarter inch of the needle so that you could twirl it about inside the nut, and the dog just let us do it all to him. There he was, his nuts full of sharp needles and him just panting happily, his own pizzle as hard as a rock. Dogs were so much easier to train than horses. Then we popped his balls together, each with a pair of pliers and each jacking each other off as we did so. It was a beautiful thing. In the back of my mind, though, I was wondering what would happen on my last day there. We’d run out of animals. Or had we? There were always things like goats and sheep.

When Friday came after a sound night’s sleep I found out. I was let by a grinning T.M. to a barn. Outside was Steve who’d come to see my last day there.

“It’s the animals that get people to come here, but it’s this that keeps guys coming back.” Steve opened the bard door and inside was about seven naked guys in hats and boots. “Choose one of these studs to destroy. Any one you want.” I went suddenly hot, then cold, then hot again. And my dick started to twitch. I was really going to get to crush a man’s balls!

I walked up and down the line and inspected each man. There were some with black hair, others with brown hair, and one with blond hair. I ran my hand over their uniformly rock hard bodies and hefted their balls to judge size. In the end I chose the blond again. It wasn’t that I was particularly into blonds, but I just happen to feel most comfortable with guys who looked like me.

 

 

Like T.M. he was hot as hell. Him still naked, we walked back to the cabin and I took charge. I told the ranch hand to start by sucking me off. The idea that a guy would submit his balls to me as well as service me was intoxicating. After a bit of that, I told the guy to stand with his legs spread, hands on top of his head, and prepair to be kicked. He took off his ten gallon hat and did as I instructed. I got out of my own cloths and stood behind him and kicked up and through his legs, nailing his balls each time. Boy did he have self control. I must have kicked him over three dozen times, but his hands slipped down to protect himself only once and he quickly raised them again. Then I told him to lay down on the bed, take off his boots and spread his legs so I could punch his nuts. He did so and with one hand wrapped around his nuts to squeeze them out and the other pistoning down I began to pulverize his balls. They warped around my fist and he started moaning. I told T.M. to suck the guy off while I pounded his nuts, and T.M. unhesitatingly complied. WHAM WHAM WHAM, suck suck suck. The poor guy was getting it mercilessly in the balls while having T.M. give him expert head. The combination of pleasure and pain must have been almost unbearable.

By this time his nuts had softened and swelled to twice their normal size and I knew it was time to finish him. I reached for the pliers and fitted them around his droopier left testicle. I jacked myself off while I squeezed down on his nut as hard as I could as I wanted to cum on the second pop. And pop it did, but the guy bucked his own cum down T.M.’s throat even as I started to crush his right ball. I ramped up my jacking and squeezed down on his last ball. I was going to do it! I was going to neuter a human male who did so as a willing offering to my orgasm. In the heat of the moment I gritted my teeth and gave the handles the most vicious, brutal squeeze that I could. The testicle exploded in it sack, he came (again) and I came for the last time that week. My jism gushed all over the bed and his legs, while his cum was soaked up by T.M.’s darting tongue. Then, under his own power the man got up, showed himself to the door and hobbled out of the cabin to go have his bits and pieces removed. Now I understood, ranch hands really were the toughest breed.

I left the next morning, and as I did so the desk guy handed me a gold plated penis on a chain. It was the ranch hand's. “Our cowboys have the option of giving their manhood’s to clients if they want. He said you did such an expert job of taking control that he wanted you to have that.” It was the ranch hand’s fully erect penis, plaited in 24karat gold and it was a beautiful sight. I slipped it on so I could remember this day forever. And as I drove to Denver I thought to myself, ‘I could use a good vacation next year, maybe I’ll come back’. I looked down at the penis on the chain and thought, ‘Oh, who am I kidding? I’m definitely going to come back!’