The Job (F/M) - NEW

 This  is a little something I whipped up for Knave. It was his idea, I just did all the writing. Cheers and enjoy!

The Job

 

Peter looked over the newspaper as he lay on his bed in his underwear. It was a hot day in L.A. and he was alone in his apartment. But he really needed a good job; so, he was scanning the local papers for something lucrative and easy and . . . maybe even fun. Plumber? No, too skilled. Yard boy? No, too much work for not enough money. Painter? No, too fruity and who wants to wear overalls? At the bottom of the list of jobs was a single line – “Well-endowed male for in-house service. Call Anna for more details.” Followed was a number.

‘Hmmm’, he thought, ‘That might be just the ticket’. He pulled off his tighty-whities and stood in front of his full-length mirror. Peter’s dong hung down over his two pendulous balls. They were big and orbular. He jacked himself off and measured his woody. It was a healthy 9.5 inches. ‘Does that count as “well endowed”’, he wondered? ‘Hmmm’. Well at least he could apply, it wouldn’t hurt.

He grabbed his cell phone and dialed the number. It ringed twice and then was picked up.

“Hello?” said a sultry female voice.

“Uh, Hi. My name is Peter Millican and I just found your advertisement. I’m interested in getting a job. May I ask you if it’s still available?”

“Why yes, it is.”

“What does the job entail?”

There was a pause. “Well, Mr. Millican, you’ll be servicing . . . me and offering up your . . . equipment for my enjoyment. I can be quite rough on men, you see, and I find I go through them rather quickly. Placing an ad is the easiest way to . . . acquire new males. Does that excite you?”

“Well . . . sounds pretty kinky, but I don’t mind kink if it’s for good money. What’s the job pull in?”

“You can be assured the remuneration is adequate. And depending on what you’re willing to do for me, there might be significant amounts of money involved. I’ve made several men millionaires.”

Peter blurted out, “Holy fuck! Wow, uhm, yeah, I mean OK, I’ll take the job! What do I have to do?”

“To begin with, take several full profile, naked selfies with a full erection and loose balls to this number. If I like what I see, I’ll send you further instructions.”

“OK.”

“Goodbye Mr. Millican.”

“Bye.”

Peter set about getting hard again and then taking pictures of his junk from various angles. Even if this woman was a pervert, there was something exciting about displaying his reproductive equipment to a total stranger. After about ten closeups of his cock and balls and some of his butt, chest, and legs, he sent them all and eagerly waited for a reply.

In about ten minutes a reply pinged in his text messages. “Mr. Millican, your pictures show you to be acceptable for my purposes. Please be at the following address at 10 am tomorrow. Thank you – Anna.”

‘Cool!’ thought Peter. That night he took a long bath and shaved most of the hair on his body. After doing so, he moisturized and toned with some products his former girlfriend had left behind. If he was going to get naked for this woman, then he might as well look his best.

The next morning, he got up, ate breakfast, dressed in some tight jeans and a tight shirt to show of his muscles and basket, plus a tight sports coat, and then drove to her house. It was in a very exclusive part of Beverly Hills, and he got a little nervous. Just how rich was this “Anna”?

He parked his old beater in the curved driveway and got out. His derelict car was another source of embarrassment, but who knows, if the pay was really good maybe he could buy a new one!

He pressed the doorbell and waited. He was met with a Hispanic woman who opened the door.

“Are you Peter?” she asked with a thick accent.

“Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Please come in,” she said.

“Miss Anna will be with you in a few moments. Please have a seat.” She directed him into the living room which was sumptuously appointed. He sat down on the leather couch. It was amazingly comfy. Several minutes later a soft voice called to him from the stairs “Mr. Millican?”

Peter turned and looked up. On the stair well was a gorgeous blond bombshell of a woman. She was probably in her late twenties, early thirties, and she was dressed in a white gown over a pink silk negligee. She had huge breasts, a tiny waste, and was voluptuous in the extreme. She crooked her finger at him and said, “Follow me.”

Peter jumped up and followed, his dick was already getting hard as he imagined what was to come. Or perhaps cum.

They ascended the stairs and came out on a long hallway. He followed her down the hallway and stopped a door on the right. She opened it and beckoned him in. She also closed the door behind him. “Please sit in that chair, Mr. Millican.”

“Peter, if you don’t mind, just Peter,” he commented.

“OK. Peter.” The woman smiled, “And I’m Anna. Please, sit.”

Peter sat down. He looked down at his own crotch and saw his dick-lump standing out. ‘This is going to be good,’ he thought. Anna noticed it too, and smirked.

As he watched, the blond woman took a drink of something that looked like whiskey and then took a puff of something that smelled like cloves, ‘Must be clove cigarettes’ he mused, and then finally she came over to him.

“Are you a good kisser?” she asked as she stood in front of him and eyed his whole body.

“I’m the best!” he said confidently.

“Well, let us see if that’s true”. Anna came up to him, lowered herself over his form and put one knee on either side of his body. Now they were nose to nose. She licked his mouth carefully, lightly, before pressing her lips against his. Her lips were soft and pillowy. To Peter she tasted like bubblegum, and she quickly slipped her tongue between his lips and penetrated his mouth. All Peter could think of was her smell (she smelled like some expensive perfume), her taste, her aura of sexuality.

As he had hoped, Anna right hand slipped down into his groin and Peter was expecting her to grab his cock, but she didn’t. Instead, she found the bulbous lump that was his larger left testicle, and she began to squeeze it. Lightly at first, and then with increasing strength. It began to hurt, and Peter let out a moan, his lips between hers. She disengaged from his mouth and whispered into his ear. “I like hurting men’s balls, Peter. Does that interest you? Does that excite you?” she asked as her grip on his nut became downright painful. For the first time in his life Peter experienced testicular pain. He’d never been hit there or suffered any accident to the groin. It was a new sensation to him, and for some reason he actually liked it. He’d always like pain, made him feel tough and manly.

“Sure, babe. Whatever you want. I’m down for it. Kiss me!” he replied, again with absolute confidence.

She resumed kissing him but now her left hand sought out his right nut and she started to squeeze that too. Peter began to make weird noises in his throat as they kissed but as his balls were being compressed. His jeans protected them, a little bit, from the effects of her fingers, but Peter was too wrapped up in the snogging to care. ‘Let her pop my balls,’ he thought, ‘as long as I get to nut!’

After many minutes of this had passed, Anna let go of his gonads and instead unbuttoned his pants and her hands wrapped around his throbbing member. She began to jack him off. The pain that lingered in his balls made him all the more horny, and it wasn’t long before he was about to let loose and ejaculate. He started to moan loudly, and she whispered into his ear, “I’m going to make you cum, Peter, and I want you back here at 10am tomorrow. We have so much to do.”

“Ah, AH, AHHHHH, fucking OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA CUM,” he cried, and the blood-hot jizz erupted out of his cock and spurt all over her manicured hands. She kept jacking him off until his orgasm was complete and then got up, went over to her bedside table, and wiped the stuff off with a tissue. Peter just sat there, breathing hard, drained and his nuts pulsing, aching in time with his heartbeat. It was wickedly wonderful. Peter cracked his eyelids open a skosh, and saw Anna pull something out of her purse. It was money. She walked over and dropped five, crisp, hundred-dollar bills into his lap. “See you tomorrow!” and then walked into the bathroom, closed and locked the door and started a bath for herself.

Peter got up, rearranged his junk, pocketed the money, and showed himself out the door. When he was back in his car, he punched air and laughed gleefully at the prospect of a job that not only paid $500 an hour, but also involved sex with the hottest minx he’d ever met. AWESOME.

The next day saw Peter back at the mansion. He knocked on the door. It was again answered by the Latino maid. “Miss Anna! It’s for you again.” Again, Peter sat on the couch until he was collected by his employer. Today he’d again shaved and pruned and plucked and moisturized, and his body felt like a newborn’s – smooth and supple. ‘She’ll love that,’ he thought.

Anna came and collected him, he followed her up the stairs again, and this time they stopped at a door on the left. She ushered him inside. The room was smaller and had a single, comfy chair in the middle of the room, but around the walls were hooks and chains and hand cuffs. ‘Wow, kinky,’ thought the teenager.

“Do you like giving cunnelingus?” asked Anna.

“Cunni-what?” he replied.

“Head, Peter. Giving women head.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Love lapping at woman’s gash, that’s me.”

“Good. Now take your pants and underwear off, as well as your shoes, please.”

Peter started to undress. A small pile formed at his feet. Soon he was just in a shirt and his white socks. His cock was at full mast, and his nuts hung loosely beneath.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Come over here, get down on your hands and knees, with your butt towards the wall.” Peter complied.

He heard Anna do something behind him, and then she said, “Widden your knees a bit.” Peter complied. All of a sudden he felt two clamps go over his nuts, and they were painful. He looked behind him. The clamps on his nuts were attached to a wire and pully system, attached to heavy weights that lay against the wall.

“Here’s the plan, Peter. I’m going to sit in the chair, the one in the middle of the room, and you are going to make your way to me, on your hands and knees, and give me some head. You will have to pull hard as the rope will resist you. Your nuts will be pulled and squeezed, and you must not touch them. You will have the pleasure of eating my pussy while you have the pain of crushed and distended nuts.”

Peter looked behind him again, and saw that the pully system was connected to huge metal weights along the wall. Even now, he felt like his nuts were being ripped off, but what could he do? This was his job, and he didn’t mind the pain so much. Peter Millican liked a challenge. So, as Anna sat, spread her legs to reveal panties that were slit down the middle, and like a dog honing in on a bitch in heat, Peter began to crawl towards his prize, the moist pink lips of her vagina. He also noticed her feet – they were clad in the softest pair of pink fuzzy socks he’d ever seen. ‘They must feel great,’ he mused. Ince by inch he crawled towards he, his nuts stretched behind him, and the weights slowly lifting from the floor.

Finally, he was within striking distance of her snatch, just a little more pain and pulling, and he’d be there. He could smell her cunt from here, and it was dripping with juices. With a last pull of his pinched scrotum, and made it, and plunged his tongue into her. Anna moaned softly as he began to lap at her gash. The pain in his testicles, from being both compressed and pulled, was seeping into his abdomen, and making a deep ache in his stomach. Meanwhile, Anna was pulling his head into her womb, and he was starting to have trouble breathing, what with both his mouth and his nose being shoved halfway up her uterus.

This went on for some time, and from her vocalizations, Peter felt he was doing a reasonable job. But the pain in his nuts and abdomen never relented, and after about twenty minutes of servicing he sort of collapsed at the foot of the chair. Anna got up, stepped over him and released the weights at the wall. Peter curled up and held himself.

“You’ve done very well, Peter. I’m pleased. That was four orgasms worth of pleasure for me, and twenty minutes of pain for you.”

“Excellent,” mumbled Peter, trying not to puke.

“I think that’s enough for today. Be here at 10am, tomorrow. We have so far to go,” and with that the woman walked out of the room and left Peter all alone, nursing his nads. After a while he gently unclipped his nuts and as he did so, blood rushed back into them, and almost made him faint. He dragged himself upwards, put his underwear, pants, and shoes back on, and then left. Just outside the door was a pile of $100 dollar bills, and he stuffed them in his pocket. He limped down the stairs, out the front door and into the driveway and carefully got into his car. He now understood why Anna paid so well. It was a tough job, having one’s nuts worked over each day. But despite the pain, it was worth it! That was the best pussy eating he’d ever done, and she was the hottest women he’d ever met. It was an honor to service her, and he couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for him.

The next day he decided to wear shorts and a tee shirt instead of jeans and a jacket. By the time he was halfway to the mansion he was already hard as a rock. He couldn’t wait to see what was next. His boner stood out, but who cared? Let her and that maid see how horny he was! He wasn’t embarrassed, he was proud!

This time he let himself in and sat down. The maid was surprised, a little, but she called out to Anna. This time Anna was in a diaphanous, baby blue nighty and blue fluffy socks, and she motioned for him to follow. They went down the hall only a short ways, and entered an entirely different room. It was empty except on the walls, where there were manacles, cuffs and chains all along the wall.

“Peter, I’d like you to undress down to your socks, and then go stand there, against the wall.”

Without hesitation, the boy took off everything except his socks, and let his raging boner pop free. Anna smiled at it. He stood up against the wall where she had indicated. Anna came over and put his arms up, and back, and then attached the manacles. Now he couldn’t move his arms. Then she moved his ankles to the cuffs and locked him in. He couldn’t move anything except his pelvis.

“I assume you like blowjobs, Peter?” she asked him.

“Love ‘em,” he replied.

“Well then, I’m going to suck on your pole and make you cum, but I’m also going to punch your fat spuds while I do so. I find that this makes the whole thing last longer, and when I’m done, I’m going to spit your cum back into your own mouth, and you’re going to swallow your own spunk. How does that sound?”

Peter smiled, “I’ve never snowballed before, but that sounds sweet.”

“Well, you’ll find out if you are, in fact, sweet. Let’s begin.” Anna threw down a pillow and kneeled in front of Peter. She grasped his pole and began to suck. ‘Ahhh,’thought Peter, ‘She’s got a mouth like a suction-pump.’ She was able to get most of it down her throat and she bobbed up and down on it. And then SMACK, her left fist punched his nuts. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Dick sucking was so easy for her that she could do two totally different things at the same time. SUCK SUCK SUCK, SMACK SMACK SMACK. It was a mixture of heaven and hell. An expert at fellatio, Anna could tell by the swelling of his cock in her mouth that Peter was about to blow, which was sooner than she was expecting, particularly with all the ball pain, but it was what it was, and she allowed the intensity to build. One of the downsides to young men was how quick they were off the mark. The upside was that they could frequently manage multiple loads. SUCK SUCK SUCK, SMACK SMACK SMACK. This went on until about six minutes until Peter let out a loud sort of groan/grunt/sigh and his jizz gushed into Anna’s mouth. She stopped moving at all and just let spurt after spurt fill her mouth. When it was full, she stood up, grasped the sweating boy’s head, and then pressed her lips to his, opening his mouth with her tongue and let his own semen fill his cavity. He slurped it down, and moaned. His balls were swelling from the busting, and his own semen was coating his throat.

“Wanna go again, stud?” asked Anna.

Peter opened his eyes, breathing deeply. He blinked several times. “Yeah, OK,” he replied.

“Good.”

Anna knelt down, recaptured his half-inflated dick and started sucking it again. This time she squeezed his balls and deep-throated his cock. She really dug her thumbs into his bloated orbs, and at the same time tongued his piss-slit, tasting the old cum along with the new pre-jack. She moved up and down on his shaft slowly, at first, to get him rearoused, and then started to bob on it, faster and faster. She made mighty slurping noises on it and made as much suction on the thing as she could. SLURP SLURP SLURP, SQUEEZE SQUEEZE SQUEZZE. She new this round would take longer, and though her lips were a bit sore, she carried on.

“FUCK, my nuts,” shouted Peter. He let out a high pitched whine. “OH GOD DAMN, my fucking nuts.”

Anna switched to punching the things again. CRACK CRACK CRACK, her fist slammed into his ghoolies. Then some squeezing, then some more punching. She took a few minutes to pull on his balls, stretching his scrotum so that it hung down nicely instead of bunching up. Then she resumed hitting them, over and over and over. Anna loved nothing more than to have a young man’s nuts at her disposal, to do with whatever she pleased. Men were so pliable, so predictable, and so malleable. Peter’s peter started to swell again, in her mouth, and she braced herself for another deluge of spunk. The cock in her mouth, and balls in her hands both swelled and swelled, until with huge exhalation of breath, Peter’s ejaculate erupted in her mouth. Once again she ceased doing anything and just let the flood of cum fill her mouth, cheeks ballooning out. This orgasm lasted longer than the last, and Anna patiently waited.

Standing up, she crushed her mouth to his, and spurt his cum into it. This time Peter choked a bit on the foamy white stuff. “Oh MAN, that was hot,” he said, his body shiny with sweat.

“Care to go again, my young colt?”

“Whew. I don’t know if I can. Ok. Yeah, mebbe one more.”

“How about a handjob this time, just to keep things interesting . . . “

“OK.”

Anna reached down and began tugging at his raw looking penis, and then began to slam her knee into his privates. She was tired of kneeling, so this was perfect. She rammed her knee into his swollen danglers as hard as she could, and let her hand piston up and down on his overused cock, using his own jizz and her own spit as lube. The kneeings made his already bruised balls bloat-up even more, and she watched in satisfaction as Peter, for the first time in his life, realized what it was like to have your balls scrambled.

“Oh, FUCK. My balls!” Peter cried out, and even shed some tears. This was worse than anything he’d ever experienced, but at the same time, it was acceptable. Anna was the hottest women he’d ever had sex with, and the nut-pain made him feel alive. Nauseous, but alive. He really felt the depth of what it was to be a man, and have such vulnerable organs as testicles. Over and over, Anna’s knee snapped into his groin. And, eventually, his wedding tackle began to swell, and Anna knew it was almost over. Her hand, now, was a blur, and her knee was getting tired. Just as Peter was about to blow his third, and final wad, Anna stopped kicking and just squeezed his nuts as hard as she could. With a yell and bucking of hips, Peter’s semen burst out the tip of his cock, and coated the carpet with pearly droplets. The stuff splattered all over the floor, and all Peter could do was moan, loudly.

After a few minutes of calm, Anna took in what she saw in front of her. Peter was limp, red from head to toe, and had a shriveled little bump of a cock, and two softball sized bollocks, also red and bruised. She released his hands and ankles and Peter collapsed into a heap, quietly moaning and holding his bruised baby-makers. Anna smiled to herself.

“Mr. Millican, when you’re ready you may get dressed and leave. I’ll leave your wages here in this room. I’ll give you two days to recuperate. I’ll expect you back here on Friday. Bring your balls.”

Peter lay there for a while. The sex was exciting, and ball busting was intense. He now knew why Anna went through men so quickly. Testicles weren’t made for such levels of abuse. But hey, it could be worse, although he wasn’t sure how.

Two days later he pulled up to Anna’s driveway. He did so with just the slightest bit of trepidation. How badly would she mangle his man meat today? Would now be a good time to ask for a raise? Only time would tell.

This time Anna strung him up to the wall and began kicking his naked testicles. Talk about ball-scrambling. No sex, just ball-busting. She had a gold plated dick in her hands and diddled herself in between kicks with it. The fuzzy, mint green socks on her feet did nothing to blunt her kicks, and this time, after about twenty minutes of testicular percussion, Peter started to actually throw up. It was intense. But, to his credit, his boner never deflated. After an hour of nut crushing kicks, Anna gave him a hand job and his pink, blood tinged spunk covered the floor, once again.

This pay for this was great, however. $1000 for an hour’s worth of torture, and this made Peter happy. And she handed it directly to him, after he’d laid, curled up, on the floor, holding his huge, swollen and now softened bollocks.

He got the weekend off, and came back on Monday. This time she took him to a new room. There was a narrow bed in the middle of the room, and there were vertical bars on either side of the bed but no headboard.

“What’s this all about, then,” asked Peter skeptically.

“Well, today we’re going to see just how tough your oysters are, Mr. Millican. Sorry, Peter. I’m going to lie down in the bed, open my mouth, and you are going to drop your nut sack into my mouth. I’m going to chew on your balls, suck on them, bite your cords and you’re going to jack off all the while. The chewing and sucking will stop once your jizz coats my face.”

“Uhm, OK. I’ve never had anyone chew on my balls before. Do you plan to eat them too?” There was no a hint of fear in his voice, but rather just curiosity.

“Oh, well, Not yet. That might come later. For now, I just want to see how resilient they are.”

“All righty then,” said Peter. He stripped off his Jeans. He’d stopped wearing any underwear since it served no purpose in this job. He positioned himself at the head of the bed, and waited for her. Anna lay down and took out another golden dildo of a very life-like looking pecker. She gazed up at him, he looked down at her. She inserted the dong into her snatch and began to masturbate and then she opened her mouth. Dutifully, Peter lowered his testicles right into her warm maw and braced himself for the pain to come. At the same time, Peter spit into his right hand and began to jack himself off.

Anna swished one testicle to each side of her mouth and began to chew. Peter began to twitch and make “AH!” sounds as his employer’s molars began to damage his nuts. Peter tried his best to focus on the sexy side of things and having his balls eaten, while he was still attached to them, kept intruding on his efforts. His brain found a way through the pain. He began to stare at Anna’s heaving breasts and imagined sucking on them, licking them, stuffing them in his mouth, and magically his dick became hard. He began to stroke his cock and become as aroused as any man could under such circumstances. Still, with every bite of Anna’s molars, his body would twitch.

Anna’s technique varied. Sometimes she tongued the testicles as hard as she could, sucking on them and making Peter squirm. She also tried to swallow the things so she could use her incisors to grind the cords that carried sperm through the reproductive tract. She couldn’t quite replicate the power of a burdizzo, but she made Peter gasp in pain none-the-less. After thirty minutes of this, the hand diving into her pussy was a blur and so was Peter’s fist. Each assault on his testicles was harrowing, but he was hypnotized by her assets and he used every shred of imagination to keep being aroused by her body. In a heroic effort, he finally made his jizz spill down the side of his cock and over some of her face. But she kept chewing until his cock had completely deflated. Finally, she let his oysters slide out of her mouth. She sat up and wiped her chin clean.

“Well,” she said, her ample chest heaving, “that was very good, Peter. Six orgasms for me, and one for you. Did you enjoy that? I know I did.”

“Yeah, it was great, I guess.” He was fondling, very gingerly, his swollen bollocks, and he was checking for herniations. It was agony to touch them, but he had to make sure.

“Well, looks like they’re OK. Are we done? And when should I come back?”

“I’ll give you a few days to recuperate. Be back here on Thursday. Oh, and here’s your money.” She handed him three, one-thousand-dollar bills.

“Cool! Urgh, shit my sac is sore. OK. See you then.”

On Thursday it was more ballbusting. On Friday it was more snatch eating mixed with ball pulling. The next week it was having weights attached to his balls and then Anna flicking the trapped orbs with a ruler. On the following Friday Anna skewered his nuts with needle-like probes and electrocuted his nuts for an hour, by which time she’d jacked him off to three orgasms.

Over the following months Peter’s nuts were squeezed, kicked, bitten, burned, stretched, punctured, punched and kneed. Peter’s testicles were constantly swollen, tender, bruised and beaten. He couldn’t sleep at night, often, and was too embarrassed to go the gym for fear people would look at his huge lumpy balls and think, “What the hell is wrong with that guy?”

Finally, everything came to a head (literally), when Anna presented a contract to him. He’d shown up, gingerly getting out of his car, and made his way into the house of horrors (as he called it), and Anna had instead taken him to her office. She sat him down. She then offered him a contract which would make him a multi-millionaire.

“Peter, I’m now offering you a chance to make more money that you could even dream of. We’ve had fun with your cock and balls over these past few months, but now comes the real fun. For me anyways. I’m offering you 4 million dollars PER TESTICLE to completely crush, and then remove your nuts, and I’m offering 6 million dollars for your penis. I’ll chop it off, have it dipped in gold, and be added to my collection of realistic dildos. There’s no pressure, of course. If you prefer to keep your gonads and pecker and don’t want to be rich, you can keep them. However, if you’re willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for me, well then, you’ll have enough to live on for the rest of your life to do whatever you want. Except for sex, of course. Most men I’ve castrated and emasculated say they don’t regret the loss as it leaves more energy to focus on their careers or their hobbies. Sex, for men, is a compulsion which can be easily curbed, and your efforts put into more useful pursuits. What do you say?”

Peter was naturally stunned at this. ‘Give up my cock and balls?’ he thought. That was beyond the pale. On the other-hand being rich for the rest of his life was alluring. ‘But will I get to fuck her?’ he wondered.

“Does this involve actual sex?” he asked. “Or will it just be more torture?”

“Hmmm. I’ve never been asked that before. Well, I suppose I could let you enter me. How about this. I’ll let you fuck me three times, and at the end of each session I get to destroy your equipment?”

Peter waivered for a few more seconds, and then said, “OK. Here let me sign the contract.”

“Good,” said Anna. “You’ll only slightly regret your decision.”

Two days later, it was his first fuck session and his right ball to be taken. Anna had said to come at twilight, clean, smooth, scented and horny. Peter pulled up to the house, and shut the engine off. He reached down and fingered his right testicle. It was soon to be crushed. How? He didn’t know, but he hoped it would be fun. For her at least. She really was the hottest person he’d ever nailed. Or rather, would nail.

He went into the mansion, up the stairs, and into her boudoir. She was laying there, naked, ready to let him pound her into oblivion. He shed his clothing as quick as he could, jumped on the bed and as she lay there, her legs spread, he slipped his cock into her hooch. It was heaven. Slowly he began to thrust himself, and the feeling of her warm, tight hollow on his prick was joy itself. He fucked her for about forty minutes until he couldn’t stop himself from jizzing. He had explored her ample breasts and had made her cum at least twice, so he was both proud and exhausted. After his orgasm he collapsed on her and lay there, panting.

“Very nice, Peter. Are you ready to give up your fat right nut?”

“No problem. How are you going to do it?” he murmured into her ear, still laying on her.

“I’m still thinking about that. How about kicking it till it gives? I haven’t done that in a while.”

“OK. How are you going to keep my left nut intact?”

“I’ll bind it up before we start. I have some string here, somewhere.”

“OK. Do you want to start now?”

“Absolutely, go into the dungeon room and wait for me there.”

Peter heaved his muscular and trim body off of Anna and found the right room. Its lights were already on, and Anna followed him in. She pointed to which spot she wanted him in, and he let himself be clamped and immobilized. She used a long piece of twine to tight up (rather tightly) his bollocks and cock, and stroked him to full hardness.

“Now, when I finally burst your nut you’ll probably cum, and that’s just fine. I’m told by men I’ve castrated that it’s a heady combination of pleasure and pain. So let yourself go!”

“Righty-O,” was the reply. Peter was ready to give her his best tonight. ‘This is kinda fun,’ he thought. ‘How many men get to offer up their junk to a hot little honey like Anna. AND become millionaires?’

Anna had slipped on some fuzzy black socks and a black teddie and went to work on Peter’s right testicle. WHAM WHAM WHAM. Peter started to groan. This ball crushing stuff HURT. WHAM WHAM WHAM. Kick after kick bludgeoned his ball. It was swelling far more than normal. WHAM WHAM WHAM. Peter thought to himself that a professional athlete couldn’t do a better job of mangling his meat. WHAM WHAM WHAM. Over and over she rammed her toes into his softening bollock. WHAM WHAM WHAM. Peter began to feel the walls of his testicle begin to permanently deform and after about ten minutes of pure bludgeoning his right testicle POPPED with a loud popping sound. It exploded and at that moment his reproductive system decided to pop too. Jizz spurted from his erect penis and covered the carpet with ropy white sperm. For Peter everything began to go dark as Anna continued to kick the mush that had been his right ball. He passed out. Anna went on kicking the gooey remains of his gonad until she stopped and, panting, tried to catch her breath. That was marvelous!

What Peter didn’t know was that Anna was a trained physician, and while he was strung up, she brought in her medical kit and opened his scrotum with a scalpel. She drained the blood and edema and Peter’s broken ball, and then sutured the whole thing up expertly. She doused the site with Iodine, and then let him to come around on his own.

Three weeks later, his wound healed and Peter feeling normal again, the teenager returned to the mansion. He walked in, searched through rooms, and found Anna taking a bath. He stripped and joined her. They started to make out, and this time she rode his cock like it was some kind of rodeo show. The water splashed all over the floor, and the noises they emitted were loud enough to wake the dead. It was hot, slippery, and sexy as hell. With a final yell, Peter injected his semen into Anna’s slick snatch and bucked his way to glory. After some time cuddling in the warm water, they got out, dried themselves, and then Anna said, “I think I’m gonna stand on your left nut and crush it that way.”

“OK,” said Peter in a conversational tone. It couldn’t hurt any more that way than had the first one, and it might even be quicker. “Where do you want me?” he asked.

“Let’s go downstairs,” she replied. “Conchita is off today, and there’s a knee-high coffee table in the living room.”

“Cool,” was Peter’s response.

They trooped downstairs and Peter made for the living room. He dutifully kneeled before the coffee table, and let his remaining bollock lay flat on it. He was hard (again), and wondered if he’d cum as much this time as he had the first time.

“Are you excited?” she asked him, breathlessly. “I am. This is my favorite part of a new boy. Taking his manhood for my own selfish pleasure, knowing I’ll be his last.”

“Yeah, sure,” commented a nonplussed Peter. He was imagining his future life as a millionaire playboy, surrounded by babes next to a marble swimming pool and wearing gold chains.

Anna stepped up onto the coffee table and stood over Peter. “Place your left nut under my foot Peter, and beg me to crush into oblivion.”

“OK.” Peter carefully put his testicle under her right foot and then said, “Crush the little thing. I don’t need it to be a man. It’s all yours! Enjoy yourself! I’m completely helpless and it’s just a nut.”

“MMmmmm,” said Anna. “OK” Anna was fingering herself and she shifted her weight so that it would flatten and pop his goober. The blond woman rolled the trapped nut around under her foot, causing Peter to gasp. Then he groaned. Who knew she weighed so much?

“I can feel your ball, Peter. I’m gonna flatten it.” More and more of her weight pressed down on the little man-gland. Nut meat was oozing out from her naked heel. Peter looked up at her and marveled at the sight of her firm breasts and hairless snatch, her skin still rosy from the heat of the bathwater. He could smell her, like wildflowers in a field, and yet his whole world was collapsing down to his last testicle. Flatter and flatter he felt his bollock being crushed flat.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” yelled Peter as his testicle ruptured with a wet “SPLAT” and both of them orgasmed at the end of his manhood. His cum pumped all over the coffee table, and Anna shuddered as she took his ball. “AHHHHHHHH,” continued Peter. Anna twisted her heel to spread his ball-mush around under her foot. More and more semen dribbled out of his rock hard dick, and he continued to yell, “AAAAHHHHHHHHH”

And then, he collapsed and was out cold. Anna grinned to herself. The young were so easy to manipulate. This time, before she removed his squashed nut, she squeezed the remains of the bollock to exalt in her power. Men were so vulnerable, and easy to emasculate. So easy.

One-week later Peter was back. His body was still flush with teenage hormones, and she got him hard. He fucked her for the last time, and his semen was perfectly clear. Afterwards, Anna got him to stick his pecker into a waist high black box and it was removed from him and turned into a golden dildo. She held it up as it came out of the box, and slid it into her moist vagina, and found it was perfect. Everything about her newest toy was good.

Three months later, Peter was laying, almost naked, on the deck his own pool, on his own property, behind his own mansion. He was sipping on a mojito and surrounded by hot teenage girls, and everything in his life was . . . good.