(Group/m) Whu Kneads Skool? (Some Footfetish and a Period Piece) Part 3

Whū Kneads Skool? (Some Footfetish and a Period Piece)  Part 3 - NEW!

So, at this point you may be wondering . . . was Christian starting to get A’s on his homework assignments and tests so that he can have his balls racked by his vixen of a teacher? Well, he was certainly trying to get better grades. He really pushed his writing ability until he could make his sentences and paragraphs sound as good when read out loud as they did when read silently to himself. He had remembered an old trick from a previous teacher who had stated that good writing should flow like a poem or a recitation, leaving only clear images and no “fog of confusion”. So, he tried and tried to get his first A on an assignment. However, once he started getting B’s (rather than his normal C+’s) Mrs. Vain started to give him some fun. She began to have students act out plays from various time periods of history. Roman and Greek plays. Medieval plays. Renaissance plays. And whenever there was a part that had violence, she would always have poor Christian take the abuse, and it somehow always seemed to be testicular abuse. In one scene where two young men were fighting for the hand of some lovely woman, Amanda whispered into the ear of Christian’s opponent to go for the red head’s nads. And boy did he. Ron, which was his name, smashed Christian’s fake wooden sword out of his hand until it clattered to the floor and skittered away by a good six feet, leaving Christian defenseless.

“Now class, Christian is completely helpless. Historically this would have given his opponent an opportunity to either outright kill, or if so inclined, to torture his victim. Many victorious soldiers castrated and collected the manhoods of their enemies. To show that their own manhood was the more powerful.” Mrs. Vain walked over to Christian and tied his hands behind his back with some velvet rope. She then pulled down his pants and let his huge bulge of a package become a focal point.

“You know what to do, don’t you, Christian?” whispered the sexy blond. The equally sexy redhead whispered back. “Yes, m’amm”. He sank slowly to his knees, spread them wide and then looked at Ron and smiled “Beat my nuts to mush, bro.” Ron let out a “YELP” of pleasure that was surely heard in Siberia and began to whack Christian in the nuts as hard as he could. All the girls were laughing and all the boys were rubbing their own goods. There was something so weirdly erotic about seeing another guy get his junk destroyed. And not only that, but . . . willingly destroyed. It was like God had given all men an invisible tally sheet where each set of destroyed balls could be noted as another rival being taken out of the mating game. One less set of baby makers to dilute the gene pool. And for women it was one more piece of proof that men were weak, useless, and ultimately disposable creatures. Soak up their sperm, pop their balls and move on to the next schmuck.

Ron really beat up Christian’s balls. He hacked, slashed, jabbed and ultimately mangled the red-head’s manhood, and instead of Christian’s dick being small and shriveled from the pain and the psychological torture, instead the engourged head of it was peeping over the top of his boxerbriefs, displaying one, single pearly drop of pre-jack.

After a few minutes, Ron was huffing and puffing and looked like he wanted to take a break. “Anyone else want to smash them?” he inquired. Cindy, the big athletic girl at the back of the room raised her hand and shouted “YES” with enthusiasm. As she walked to the front of the room, Ron handed her the wooden sword, but she just tossed it away. She shrugged off her huge tennis shoes.

“Real girls would have crushed a guy’s goobers with her bare feet,” said the sturdy young lass out loud. “Isn’t that right Mrs. Vain?” Cindy looked over at her teacher. “Very possibly, Mrs. Coxx,” was the reply. “Why don’t you ask young Christian whether he’d like to be introduced to your feet.”

Ron looked down at the girl’s huge athletic feet, thinking they were the best things he’d ever seen.

“OH HEALL YEAH,” he replied. “I’d love to feel those things crushing my eggs.”

He nodded at her, Cindy look over at Amanda and Amanda nodded to Cindy.

FUCKING WHACK went her naked foot straight into his nylon clad bulge. The whole thing ballooned, and Christian’s eyes bulged and started to tear up. That hurt like a motherfuck. WHACK WHACK WHACK What Christian felt was now beyond coughing, but more like nausea. It was if his body was rejecting the two big beautiful feet that were pulverizing his manhood. His body started to shake and then convulse. He’d never felt such pain before in his life. But Cindy didn’t stop. She was having too much fun. WHACK WHACK WHACK.

After about six minutes of this (with the audience clapping and hooting in appreciated) Christian let out a warbling yell and fell over sideways. Cindy stopped and looked over at Mr. Vain. The sexy teacher walked over to the wounded boy, and snaked her hand inside his underwear to feel around for his balls. They had swollen to twice their normal size, and she expertly pressed and squeezed them to insure there was no hemorrhaging or ruptures. They felt fine, if rather swollen.

“OK. Well that’s enough fun for one day, folks. You can leave early for study hall. I’ll patch up our little crash test dummy here, and remember we start discussing Romeo and Juliet next week so I want the first two chapters read by Friday. That’s all.”

Amanda gave her moaning student an ice pack to put on his balls and left him there for an hour while she graded papers.

“Feeling better, Mr. Dowry?” Said the pert blond without even looking down at him.

“mmhmmm. Mphf. (*groan). I , , I  think I’m good to go now, miss.”

“Alright well, pull your pants up and give me back the ice pack tomorrow. Use it on the buss on the way home. Cheerio!”

The next week they did start discussing Romeo and Juliet and finished it up on Friday, with a paper due the following Monday about the idea of “If Romeo and Juliette hadn’t killed themselves, what would have happened then?”

Christian’s sick perverted mind wrote a three pager detailing how Lord Capulet would have kidnapped Romeo, undressed him, strung him up, and then beat the shit out of his balls, ultimately rupturing both of them and then chopping off his cock too, and putting the whole lot in a jar of honey to be displayed in Juliette’s bedroom for life. A sort of grizzly trophy that she could weep over for the rest of her chaste life.

Christian was so turned on by his own idea that he came on the pages three times before handing it in. (The boy behind him wondered if Christian normally dragged his assignments through puddles of yoghurt or something.)

The assignment came back to Christian with a long list of instructions for him to carry out for the next few days, and then to be early on Wednesday morning. The cold day found Christian in a rented Romeo costume, and his cock and balls bound up and behind him with ductape, similar to the ways drag queens hide their own candy. The sensation was uncomfortable and decidedly odd.

Mrs. Vain showed up early too, in a get-up that would have made the Queen at the Ren Fair look cheap, and Mrs. Vain was apparently supposed to be Juliette’s mother. She was also carrying a bag and a huge meat cleaver.

When the class had settled down and settled in, Mrs. Vain announced that she had really enjoyed reading their “what if’s” regarding the tragedy of Romeo and Jueliette and now she was going to display her own. Unbeknownst to the class, she had brought a lifelike set of plastic testicles in a pink plastic scrotum (very life-like) a had Christian attach then to the inside of his inner shorts, with a nice codpiece to cover it.

“Mr Dowry, come sit up here, on my desk.” He costumed teen did so. Mrs. Vain stuffed a white linen in his mouth and taped it over so he couldn’t say anything.

Amanda then stood beside him and began to recite her own self-composed prose which basically told him that he was going to pay for the wicked ways of his family, and to open his cod piece. Christian did so.

“Now, forsooth, take out the jewels of thy family and let them see the light of day.” Christian reached in and pullout out the very big and very realistic plastic, water filled balls. The pink plastic scrotum, hung heavily over the side of the desk. The fat testicles lolled there, looking so delicate and vulnerable.

“Do you, young scoundrel admit to sullying my daughter’s good name?” Christian nodded. “And do you, you roguish Knave admit to impugning my family’s good name?” Again came the nod. “Then for thee I have only the butcher’s reply. I will cleave from you your sin, that you may then high thee to a monastery and live a life of repentance. Prepare thyself, eunuch-in-waiting.”

Christian’s eyes went wide and he early stopped breathing. Those nuts looked so real. He wished they were his real ones. He spread his legs as wide as he could, leaned way back and waited for his paramour to use her cleaver. Mrs. Vain, looking like a Elizabethan psycho, raised the cleaver with drama, so everyone in the classroom had a good look at its heaviness, its deadliness, its sharp and unfeeling edge, and then WHACK, the cleaver came down on Christian’s nutsack and the whole scrotum slipped off the side of the desk and went “SPLAT” onto the floor. And all the while she had looked into Christian’s eyes and continued to do so as she then started to stomp on the fake glands, shouting expletives at him “You bounder, you cad, you rogue, you bastard. May your manly orbs expel their seed for me ONE LAST TIME.” She really stomped hard and everyone could hear the fake nads POP. Christian’s bound up cock jizzed immediately because he so truly was imagining that those were his balls, and about half the class did likewise. Girls were moist between the legs and the guys were creaming their pants. By the end of her stomping session, Mrs. Vain was breathing heavily and seemed ready to faint (darn corsets!). She dismissed the class. Everyone left except Christian who had to clean up the mess of his fake balls. He pulled the cloth out his mouth and threw it away. He turned to leave and as he did so, he heard Mrs. Vain speak up from the papers she was grading. “That was my tampon from this morning, Mr. Dowry. I hope you enjoyed the taste of a real period piece.”