The Plan (f/m) - repost

 

The Plan

 

Chris looked at her from the top of the stairs. She was perfect. Perfect for his plan, that is. His sister’s best friend. She was gorgeous, naive, just old enough, and in the middle of her budding sexuality. The sixteen year old boy descended the stairs confidently.

 

While she was watching the shopping network and swooning over a Cubic Zirconium ring big enough to live in, he walked up to the lounge chair and stood there, just watching. She was sitting on the couch, enjoying her imaginary buying spree, and didn’t notice Chris until he cleared his throat. She startled a bit, then smiled politely at him and turned back to the two women nattering on about an investment of a lifetime.

 

“Sarah.” Chris wanted her too look at him. She did. She quickly assessed his lanky black hair, his dark eyes, his smoky glance, and wondered what he wanted.

 

“What?” she said.

 

Chris didn’t hesitate. “I have something to show you.”

 

“What?” she said again.

 

She couldn’t see below his waist since he was behind the chair, off to her left, but his hands disappeared and she heard a zipper drop. Then something that sounded like his pants hitting the floor. Then the older boy lifted himself and suddenly his genitals appeared on the top of the recliner. He rested himself there and watched her eyes lock on his cock and balls. She gasped.

 

“You’ve never seen a naked man before, have you?” He knew she was too young to have had sex-ed, she had no brothers, and her father had died before she had hit puberty. He knew he was right.

 

“Uh. Geeze. What . . . what are those?”

 

“They’re my cock and balls. Wanna touch them?” He gazed slyly at her. He could see the curiosity in her eyes.

 

“I don’t think we, I mean you shouldn't be showing me those.” For some reason the whole thing seemed so wrong. She barely knew Emily’s brother, and she certainly hadn’t come over here to see this! Still, there was something hypnotic about what she was looking at. Two fat orbs and a rigid pole-like thing with a pink helmet.

 

“Go on. Come here and touch them. I guarantee you, they’re nothing like anything you’ve felt before. Go on. I won’t tell anyone.” He just stood there, coaxing her.

 

Sarah gulped and she suddenly noticed how warm the room had become. She was flushed, and blushing. But his invitation was exciting too. She slowly got up and inched her way towards the plush leather recliner, almost as if her body was moving of its own accord.

 

“Go on,” he urged her, glad to see he was getting the response he wanted. “They won’t bite.” Sarah giggled nervously, and sank to her knees on the Lazy-boy. She was now eye level with his resting genitals. His cock was pulsing right in front of her face and his nuts were lolling on the warm leather surface. She reached out with a trembling hand and grasped his penis. When she did so, Chris sighed.

 

“That’s right,” he said, enjoying her touch. “Feel it for the first time.” She was gripping the rod quite gently, and could feel its warm hardness. He was right, she’d never felt or seen anything like it before.

 

“What . . what is it?” she asked.

 

“My dick.” His voice was sultry but matter-of-fact at the same time.

 

“What’s it for?”

 

“To give me pleasure.” He took her hand and made her pump it. “It also does something special if you do the right thing.” But her eyes had now dropped to his plump spuds.

 

“And these?” She let go of his cock and poked one of the bubbles with her finger.

 

“Those are my balls. You’ve heard of balls before, haven’t you?”

 

“Sorta. What are they for?”

 

Chris smiled to himself. This was all too easy.

 

“Why, they’re for bursting of course.”

 

“Bursting?”

 

“Yeah. Of course. Every boy has to have a girl crush his nuts before he can become a man. It’s a sort of ‘right of passage’. I was thinking maybe you could do it for me. Today. Right now. Before Emily and mom get home.” He made it sound like an honor, a special prize. He could see her eyebrows knit as she tried to comprehend his offer.

 

“You mean . . what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” She was now hefting his balls with one hand, and pinching the scrotal sack with her other.

 

“I want you to be the one to castrate me. That’s the name of the ritual. Castration. All men want to be castrated. It’s in our genes. It will be fun. You‘ve seen guys get hit in the balls before, right?. In movies.”

 

Sarah looked up at him, and could see the lust in his smoky, alluring gaze. She thought about it, and then nodded. “Yeah, I think so. They fall on the ground and cry. I think. And there’s a crunching sound between their legs. Like a walnut being stepped on.”

 

“Right. And that’s what I want you to do to me. Right now. Every man wants to be nutless and every women wants to nut a man. Didn’t you feel something warm inside when you heard that ‘crunching sound between their legs’?”

 

Sarah furrowed her brow again, then smiled. Seeing a guy get hit between the legs had been funny in a sort of thrilling way, now that he mentioned it.

 

“Come on, it will be fun. I promise you’ll have more pleasure by busting and bursting my balls than watching those rejects on TV try to sell you a George Forman grill.” He pulled his hands away from his junk and pulled her over towards him.

 

“Here, we’ll warm you up to it. I’ll stand here and spread my legs, and you kick my nuts. See? They’re hanging right here for you. You can’t miss them.” He put his hands behind his back. He was standing there, in white socks, a white tee-shirt, and completely naked otherwise. He had a dark, curly bush, a thick, long dick, and two low hanging nuts which swayed slightly. His face was alight with illicit glee, and his eyes burned with anticipation. Chris was a pervert, through and through.

 

“How . . . how should I kick them?” she said haltingly. She’d never so much as slapped someone before; even though there was something sexy about what he was asking, she was unsure of what to do.

 

“Take off your shoes so you can feel my balls squishing. Trust me, you’ll want to. Imagine how powerful you are right now. Imagine that I’m your Roman slave. Ready for your abuse. You’ve thought about having a slave, haven’t you? All girls want man-slaves. Make me yours.”

 

“Uhm. Ok.” She stepped out of her Vans. She looked at her dangling targets. They seemed so vulnerable. “OK.” Now she sounded more confident, like she’d decided. Chris could feel his power over her. She was so malleable. So innocent.

 

“Kick them hard. I need you to make them soft so they’ll pop when it’s time.” He was looking straight into her eyes and she was mesmerized. He was like an incubus , trapping her in his seduction, his riveting persona. She nodded, steeled herself and then slammed her foot as hard as she could right into his naked groin. Electric needles of some unknown pleasure exploded in her, like icy shards of painful ecstasy. It was amazing. Chris hadn’t even moved.

 

“Again, my darling.” His gaze still locked on hers.

 

She slammed them again, and she really could feel the two nuggets squish between her toes. It was sexual magic. She could feel something build in her, but it needed more.

 

She kick them yet again, watching the testicles bounce. Chris closed his eyes and began to groan – a sort of rich throaty groan, proving he was enjoying it too. That “dick” of his was getting even harder, the pink head become purple and the pulsing more pronounced. She felt the urge rising in her. More. MORE!

 

She began to kick him in the groin over and over, faster and faster. The testicles began to swell, get bigger with each impact, and the penis thing began to drip a clear fluid, making little drool marks on her white ruffled socks.

 

‘Ohhhhhhh, yeah, ohhhhh babe, kick those nuts, Oh, it hurts so goooood.” His head was lolling around, and he was leaning into her kicks, his knees bending in willing servitude. This was what he’d wanted for so long. It was horribly thrilling and explosively erotic. Forbidden desires mixing with his deepest, darkest fantasies.

 

Now Sarah was really getting into it. Her own womb was throbbing and pulsing in time with his groans, and the prickly sensation was flashing through her teenage body like fire. This was better than any Cuisinart mixer or collectable Beanie Baby.

 

Without warned Chris reached forward to grab her and pull her close. His body smelled like soft soap and conditioner (obviously he’d taken a shower before coming downstairs). Without a word he gently lifted her knee into his bulging balls and pressed it there, hard. “Knee them,” he whispered into her ears. It was both a request and a command, and she obeyed. She could feel them laying on her knee, and his rigid pole pressed against her thigh. She brought them both up into his groin with a sharp jerk. Then, again. He was pressing himself into her thrusts. Over and over the leg pounded into his naked nuts, and he slammed his bollocks into the unforgiving hardness of her kneecap. His face was inches from hers, and he could smell her scent, like Lilies of the Valley, mixed with some tangy sent he’d never encountered before. Pain and pleasure were arcing in his abdomen – it was now a battle between his swollen cock’s pleasure and an epicenter of nausea in his stomach. More. He needed more.

 

“STOP,” he yelled into her ears. She was startled and stepped back. He wobbled unsteadily, but then took her hands in his and made her grasp each nut. Then he looked into her eyes. “You know what to do now, don’t you? Squeeze them, squeeze them hard.” He smiled evilly. Sarah nodded, and found herself eagerly bearing down on the twin orbs. They were so warm, and alive, and now big enough to fill her whole fist. She squeezed them like they were two ripe plums, Squishing them as if in anger after fighting with someone, Squishing them with single minded determination to pop them completely. But, they were a lot tougher and more dense than a plum. In fact they were exceptionally solid for their size, and she couldn’t do more than make a slight dent in them with her thumbs. ‘This may not be possible,’ she thought. The feeling between her own legs, however, was like molten lava, and she knew she must crush them soon. No other pleasure was this inevitable.

 

Gritting her teeth she gripped his balls as hard as she could, both of them holding their breath, but it wasn’t enough. Man glands were solid, not hollow.

 

“I can’t!” she cried in an explosive exhalation of dismay.

 

Chris pulled her close again. “Of course you can’t,” he whispered so soothingly into her ear. “That’s not how it works. Look on the table.”

 

Sarah’s gaze moved past his shoulder and focused on the dinning table. There was a baseball bat and a pair of handcuffs.

 

“There’s a tradition to castrating men. Women all over the world have done this for thousands of years. You’ll be first of your friends to be able to say you’ve nutted a man. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He hobbled into the garage, one hand clutching the ridiculous agony in his balls. ‘Poor women,’ he thought to himself. ‘They’ll never know this feeling.’ Endorphins flooded his body in giddy waves.

 

While Chris was retrieving a wooden plank from the garage, Sarah began to rub her snatch as she contemplated the two objects on the table. This was amazing. She’d never felt this way before. It was . . . incredible. Overwhelming. Perhaps this was what it meant to be a woman, rather than a girl. She couldn’t wait for the next part.

 

He came back in with a short pine plank, with a hole cut in the middle. He also had some heavy-duty rubber bands. He set them down, and then passed her the hand cuffs.

 

“It’s simple,” he said. “Cuff me. I’ll bend over on the table. You’ll pull my nuts through my legs, push them through the hole, and them rubber band them tight. You can do that, can’t you? I know you can,” He spoke with the honeyed kindness of a parent, gently coaxing his child to do something frightening for the first time. Naturally she didn’t want to seem incompetent or chicken.

 

“Of course,” she said. The pleasure in her pussy was diminishing, and she needed more stimulation.

 

“Good,” he said, smiling again. He let her handcuff him, arms tied tight behind, and laid his chest on the cool wooden surface of the table. He heard her pick up the board. Then he felt her soft, warm hand reach between his legs and pull back his swollen balls. She then forced them through the board. It was tight fit, and she had to twist, yank and squeeze them to get them through. Chris groaned in pleasurable agony. When they finally popped through she snapped on the two bands around them, noticing Chris jerked from his cords being crushed.

 

Chris moaned, then opened his eyes and looked back at her. “Double wrap them. If you don’t, they’ll pop back through.”

 

It was difficult. Sarah gritted her teeth again, but eventually managed to double band the two bollocks. Now they were really swelling, and turning purple. They looked different to her now. She could see that they were not completely spherical, but had some sort of tubing attached to them. Fascinating.

 

Chris, meanwhile, was trying to restrain his giddiness. This was going to be so special. He’d dreamed about it since the first time he jacked off. If only his pawn knew what she was doing. Her ignorance might be her bliss, but it wasn’t his ejaculation – yet. He could feel the sticky wetness of his impossibly hard dick leaking a pool of prejack onto the table. This was going to be the eruption of a lifetime.

 

“Now,” he said soothingly to her, looking up while he talked. “Come get the bat. Stand behind me and hit my balls until they burst. This is the most important part of the ritual. You have to turn them into jelly. You have to hit my balls as many times as it takes. You can tell when they burst because they’ll make a popping sound. Don’t worry. This is what men and women do, and I’ve never been more ready for it. Trust in me. Destroy my balls please, Sarah.” His voice was calm, reassuring, gentle. It was exactly what she needed to hear. She’d never hit someone with a bat, certainly not any boy she knew, and certainly not between the legs. The pressure and heat was building up inside of her again. Bolts of liquid sex were arcing through her torso, stimulating her breasts to swell.

 

Sarah stepped back and tested the distance between her and her target, the two bulbous orchidia waiting their destruction. Was this going to be easy? She’d better ask.

“I’m not sure I’m strong enough to pop them. I’m always the last picked during gym,” she said in a slightly plaintive voice.

 

“Don’t worry,” Chris replied, his voice velvety smooth. “You just need to hit them. A lot. Over and over. Can’t you see how delicate they really are? A solid wooden bat will pulp them easily. Take your time, I’m in no rush. Enjoy this. You’re going to be a real woman after this, remember? Everything’s OK. Just trust me.” He put his head down on the table, closed his eyes softly and waited for the ecstasy to follow.

 

“Alright.” She lined up the bat again, and then made her first swing. The wooden surface made a slick “SPLAT” sound as it connected with his constricted testes. ‘OH GOD’ thought Sarah. Now she was getting really wet between the legs. Something completely new to her. She had to do it again. And again. WHAM, she hit the fat orbs as hard as she could. Again. And again and again and again. She was hitting them so hard that the table was scootching forward from the impact, and Chris was crying out with each connection, but he didn’t tell her to stop, she decided he must be enjoying it.

 

Faster and faster she slammed that bat into his nuts. They were becoming larger and softer. She could see them begin to dent and distort. The feeling in her snatch was becoming almost too much to bear - a volcano of lust and red hot passion. Just as the volcano erupted she felt the bat burst through his bubbles and make contact with the board. There were two loud bursts as they exploded under the impact of her swings, and both she and Chris orgasmed. It was more than amazing, it was phenomenal. Chris had just felt his manhood explode in its pouch and his cum exploding out his dick, spurting thick ribbons between his stomach and the table. Spurt after spurt after spurt. And Sarah had dropped to her knees, dropped the bat and was convulsing with her first orgasm, her first taste of sexuality, her first flush of adulthood.

 

Chris began to convulse and scream now that his orgasm was complete. He thought he was going to die. For several moments, he felt like he’d had enough. But not for Sarah. She wanted more. So much more. She rose to her feet clutching the bat again, and began to slam it into the mush of what were once his testicles. Chris began to cry, but his dick started to pulse again. Some part of his mind couldn’t believe it. He was getting off on her abuse of him. Again she was plastering his ruined nuts with a frenzy neither of them could have predicted. Just as she came again, so did he. In the back of his pain glazed brain was the thought ‘This really should be a tradition because I wish I could do this again.” He heard her pick up the bat again. She was clearly going to liquefy his balls. The first hit smashed in the melon sized scrotum and he felt his dick come back to life. This time it took much longer for them to reach orgasm and it hurt so much when his semen gushed out that this time he blacked out. But just before he did so, however, he heard her pick up the bat for the fourth time. His wish had come true. She wanted it more, so much more . . . just like he did