Bubbles (ff/M) - Repost

Knave brought to my attention that one of his favorite stories was missing from my repost spree last year and darned if he wasn't right. So here is Bubbles, a short-ish story I did quite a while ago. And it's a Christmas story, so naturally it's perfect for reposting in the middle of summer! Enjoy!

n.

Bubbles

 

            The snow was falling softly outside, white wisps of powdery frost, leaving little trails of perfect white, and landing in pillowy mounds just outside the window sill. Inside, all was warmth and light and happiness, even though it was 6am, and the sun was barely peeping through the clouds. Soft Christmas music was playing on the retro-antique radio, multicolored lights were twinkling on the Christmas tree, and everywhere were presents waiting to be opened.

John, his wife Peggy, and their two young twin daughters, Alice and Alison were sitting around the tree and near the roaring fire, and having fun digging into their Christmas presents. Naturally the two daughters were enthusiastic, ripping paper, breaking bows and tearing tape. Soon, there was a pile of loot behind each girl.

Unlike most children, the girls just loved getting cloths, and they had each received some expensive cashmere socks – Alice’s peach colored, and Alison’s lavender. They begged their father to help them put on their new socks, plus their new dresses and some matching bows for their hair.

            John was sitting on his knees next to the girls, his legs spread oddly open the whole morning, while Peggy watched from the couch. They adored their two daughters, and would willing sacrifice anything for them. In their hearts, they knew the girls’ happiness was paramount to them having a happy childhood.

            As it so happens, the girls not only had a love of fashion, they also had a penchant for anything bubble-like that could be popped. When they were just toddlers, they’d come across some of that bubble wrapping left over from the new LCD HDTV television, and they literally spent hours jumping, hitting, and squishing the big bubbles, laughing innocently as they burst. The popping noise, the sudden deflation, and the springy resilience of the plastic puffs creating a sensory pleasure that simply couldn’t be duplicated by any other means.

            Since then, the girls had burst eggs, cherries, blow-up paper bags, balloons at birthday parties and lots of other items, and as a result, they’d also come to expect lots of poppable things at Christmas and during birthdays. And today was no exception. Roll after roll of bubble wrap, little burstable plastic bubbles filled with glitter, balloons filled with candy and helium, and so forth. All of them were attacked by the girls with glee.

            With their cushy-soft socks protecting their little feet, they jumped on all their bubbles, hit them, squeezed them between their fingers and spent almost two hours bursting things, just for fun. Eventually, though they ran through their entire stock of burstable items, and the girls began glum. Alison made a pouty face and turned to her father.        

            “I want more things to pop, Daddy. This isn’t enough. Get us something else. It’s Christmas, and Santa wants us to be happy.” Alice just made a pouty face too, and nodded in agreement.

            “Well,” started John, “I don’t think there is anything else. All the poppable items in the entire county are laying on the floor, here in this house. I can’t think of anything else to give you.”

            Peggy, however, had a wry, thoughtful look on her face, and leaned over to whisper something in John’s ear. As she did so, the girls could see John’s face light up, as he grasped the implications of her plan.

            Peggy got up and walked upstairs, then came back, holding some kind of odd tool. She sat down, and began to talk.

            “Girls, a while back your father and I decided not to have any more children, because you two are our sweet little angels, and we wanted to devote all our resources to that end. I thought about having my tubes tied, but your father had a better idea. Last night, as has present to me, he gave me this burdizzo to use on him, and let me crush his tubes. See, it’s a farm implement designed to castrate male mammals,”

            As the girls examined the odd device, Alice interject. “What does castrate mean, Mommy?” she asked.

            “I means taking away a man’s ability to have children. Permanently. Anyway, last night I placed this tool over first your father’s left testicle, and then his right testicle and sqeeeeeezed real hard and pinched his tubing, and now, we won’t ever have to worry about me getting pregnant.”

            The girls followed this story with interested, and kept looking back and forth between their parent’s faces. Peggy looked pleased, and John looked excited.

            “However, this now means that your father’s two testicles can’t feel a thing, and can be damaged in anyway we can think of because they’ve already been cut off from their life support. So, now you have two more bubbles you can pop! See, isn’t that wonderful, girls!?”

            “But,” said Alison, “what’s a testicle?”

            “Oh,” said John, “Here, let me show you what I have.” He stood up from his odd position and pulled down his pajama pants, and then his plaid boxers. Out popped his soft penis and two hugely swollen orbs in a silky pink pouch.

            “These are my testicle,” he said, laying them in his hand. “They hang down in this sack called a scrotum. This is my penis, which is used for making children also. Anyway, normally it would hurt me a lot if someone kicked or hit or stepped on them, but right now, I just have an overall, dull ache. I was planning on going to the doctor later on today, anyways, so your mother and I agree, you should have some fun making mush out of them and popping them before they’re removed. Why let them go to waste? And it shouldn’t be difficult to burst them. You two have had LOTS of practice.” John was all smiles.

            The girls got up and took his eggs from his outstretched hands, rolling them over and over to see their shape. The organs were unlike anything they’d ever seen or felt before. They really were like huge, balloony eggs.

            “Remember girls, this is a very special honor. Most men would never let you do this to their private parts, so say make the most out of it,” commented their mother.

            “Daddy, do you mean that these things helped make US?” they said together.

            “Yup, and I give you full permission to burst them under your feet, kick them, hit them, do anything you want to them. Here, Peggy, you show them.” John got up and spread his legs, his white socks sliding along the carpet sideways, then his hands when up, above his head which stretched his white undershirt at the seams. Peggy went up behind him, took carful aim, and nailed his balls from below. They made a pleasant squishing, slapping sound, and the girls were delighted.

            “Ok, girls, now your turn.”

            The girls gladly got up and stood before their half-naked father. The noticed that his dick was getting hard, and it made them happy, for some reason. Then, they looked at each other, each thinking the same thing. “Left,” said Alice, “Right,” said Alison together, and they aimed their lavender and peach feet at their chosen testicle. BAM, they booted the balls as hard as they could.

            “Good shot, girls,” cheered their father, having fun watching his own balls bounce.

            BAM, BAM, BAM. The twins punted their father’s nuts as hard as they could, and were rewarded by the two helpless orbs bouncing around and spinning in their protective sack.

            “Girls, do your best to soften them up, so that they’ll be easier to pop!” exclaimed their mother.

            “OK,” they said in unison. Then they stopped kick, and instead each grabbed a nut in one hand and began hitting the bright red orbs with the other. SMACK SMACK SMACK. Johns’ scrotum was fiery red but still loose enough to allow for any range of movement. “Girls,” he said as he watched them bludgeon his manhood, “Squish my balls which you hit them.”

            The twins obliged, and began to knead the semi-circular eggs along with the lumpy tubes as hard as they could, while continuing to hit them.

            Alice stopped hitting and found she could rotate the ball completely, so that John’s epididymis was facing front. Then she found she could squish her thumbs into it, and it left a nice dent. “Hey, try this,” said Alice to her sister. Alison replicated the movement, and found it just as fun.

            “Those are the tubes where my sperm grow up,” said John. “It’s where the sperm that made you developed before coming out of me.”

            “And,” said Peggy matter-of-factly, ”that’s where I separated your father’s balls from his body last night.”

            “Daddy, I can feel the tubes squishing under my thumb. Is that OK?” asked Alison with concern.

            “Squish away. It can’t do any more damage than bursting the ball completely. Push as hard as you can.”

            Both girls readily pressed their thumbs into the mound of tubes, and heard pleasant little squishing sounds as they were popped and destroyed. “This is fantastic,” said Alison in utter pleasure. “Do all men’s balls make these sounds?” she asked innocently.

            “Well, you’d have to find a pretty special guy who’d let you do this to his reproductive organs, but yes, I think it would be exactly the same,” remarked John.

            When all the tubes had been squished, they rotated their respective nut and asked their daddy to get on the floor, so they didn’t have so far to reach. He got on his hands and knees and happily spread his legs so his children could attack his dangling baby-makers. Despite their enlarged size, they hung low between his knees, and girls were only too happy to take running kicks at them, savoring the way they bouncing around, and how his rigid dick felt when they kicked it too.

            Then, John raised his legs so that his feet were flat on the ground again but his arms still on the floor, a told the girls to hit him with other things. SLAM went the new croquet mallet that the twins had gotten that morning. SMACK when the new high heel shoes, with Alice hitting with heel so that it dented one of his balls. CRACK when a new bedtime story book straight into his balls. Everything that was able to punish their father’s goolies wound up between his legs with breathtaking velocity.

            As the morning wore on, John finally suggested they explode the testicles that they’d been manhandling, and he lay down on his back with his legs spread wide open. Peggy went and got the family bible, an heirloom that traced the genealogy of the Connor family for 15 generations, and seemed symbolically appropriate to Peggy for use in this situation. Alice and Alison would be breaking their father’s balls, the essence of his very being over the essence of their entire family.

            Peggy placed with between his legs, and then placed the Family Jewels on top.

            “OK, girls, I think you know what to do.”

            The twins clapped in unison, and ran up to stand between their father’s legs.

            “Can we really do this, Daddy?”

            “Burst the seeds that made us?” they chimed.

            “Yes, sweeties, I want you to make all their insides squish out from your feet, like that water balloon you popped yesterday in the kitchen. Jump up and down on them, if you have to.”

            “Ooookkkaaaay,” they said simultaneously. They each stepped forward and placed their socked feet on their chosen testicle – Alice in peach on his lefty, and Alison in lavender on his right ball. They then lifted their other foot off the ground, and immediately wobbled around. “Help, Daddy,” they shouted.

            John reached out to claps their hands with his so they could steady themselves, and with his support, they place their small body weight fully on each testicle. As if trying to escape their fate, the precious bubbles slipped around under their fuzzy heels, but with some determination, each girl was able to make their heels stay fixed over their chosen nugget.

            Then, they jumped. Up and down, up and down, letting the dense but springy ball flesh cushion the jolt to their legs. Each time, their testicle seemed to feel softer, and softer, bouncing back less and less, until finally, the girls said in unison, “It’s going to go, Daddy!”, and go they did. With a resounding wet pop, the twin orbs gave way under the twin girls’ feet, and everyone could hear their explosive collapse. It was a breathtaking, spine chilling organic pop, which left everyone in dead silence for a full thirty seconds

            Then, Peggy clapped her hands and cheered, while John just squeezed his daughters’ hands and said, “Good work, girls.”

            After jumping around a bit on what remained of his balls, the girls stepped off the bible and smiled widely. In response to the amazing scene they’d just been partner too, the girls only had one thing to say to their parents, “That the was best gift we’ve ever had!” The girls beamed.

            “You're welcome, girls,” said John.

“I love you mommy,” said Alison.

            “I love you Daddy, “ said Alice.

            Peggy, just beamed at her girls and said, “Merry Christmas!!! Now, who’s up for some eggnog?”

            From his position on the floor, one hand squishing around the remains of his own balls to see what it felt like, John raised his hand and said “I am!” and then pointed to his rock hard cock, “And I think this fellow is too!”

            And so it was a very, merry Christmas, indeed.