The Little Bitch
Contains prolonged ball-busting
She was the new girl; a tiny thing in her early twenties with big blue eyes and a cute upturned nose. Her name was Whitney. She was fun in that loud, slightly obnoxious American way and I always saw her across the office surrounded by laughing buffoons; drawn to her because she was the only attractive woman in the place. I stress woman because there was another female employee who, in my opinion, was much more attractive, but the fact she was only barely legal meant she was off limits to most men.
She was a receptionist called Sian (pronounced Sharn) that even the most lecherous of men drew the line at gawping at. I on the other hand, being the only male in the office around her age, had no qualms about giving her tiny waist and overdeveloped young titties longing stares.
With the teenage receptionist a no go for the majority, Whitney had a monopoly over the men’s affections, but her pixie-like attributes did little to endear her to me. Sian was my infatuation. It was her tits: buoyant melons the size of which seemed pornographic on a girl so young and slender. I honestly couldn’t comprehend how such a tiny waist could handle such unpredictably swaying weight. Whitney was nowhere near her league.
Yet, with her braless little tits shrink-wrapped a white tank top, the feisty Californian could offer something that Sian couldn’t: guilt-free ogling opportunities. And it was obvious to me, sitting across the office watching her with irrational contempt as she talked with such animation, that she couldn’t get enough eyes on her tight little body.
It was only when she noticed me glowering that I realised I was giving her exactly what she wanted so, nonchalantly, I spun in my chair and fixed my gaze directly at Sian who was coming out of the copy room with a stack of papers.
She wore a shirt today; ill fitting because, unlike a T-shirt, it couldn’t stretch to encompass the never-ending swell of her tits and still cover her silky midriff which was left exposed from the belly button almost right down to point where her pubic hair might start. Peeking out over the top of her low-slung trousers I could see the girlish pink panties which no doubt sent older men’s eyes darting away guiltily, but for me, her cutesy knickers were just another enticement.
I knew my lack of interest must have irritated Whitney and when I risked a backward glance I could see she had lost the zest she had been talking with and I could tell her mood was bordering on the foul. I turned back to Sian who had sat down at her desk and I couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction. Sian thought I was grinning at her and she smiled back politely, but all of a sudden her eyes opened wide with shock. I glanced down to see the massive boner I was sporting; generated from a mixture of Sian’s great rack and my perverse enjoyment of pissing off Whitney.
I leant forward quickly, but without blatantly covering my rod with my hands there was little I could do but spin my chair away from her as if I had just remembered something important I had to do on my computer. Red-faced, I hung my head and felt the warm, itchy sensation of shame overcome me.
In the periphery of my vision I suddenly noticed a fine pair of bare legs perched on my desk. I looked up with fright to see Whitney beaming back at me.
‘Going camping?’ she asked, smirking. I murmured my incomprehension. She pointed at my crotch. ‘Already got your tent up.’
This time I couldn’t help but cover it with my hands; I didn’t want that smug bitch revelling in my humiliation.
‘What do you want?’ I snapped.
‘Oh, nothing… I just couldn’t help but notice you staring at me and I just came to ask…’ she leaned forward so that her tank top hung down to display a modest cleavage, ‘…do I have something in my teeth?’ She pulled back her top lip to show her gleaming white teeth which she then ran her pink tongue over slowly and suggestively.
I snorted disdainfully; though my dick reacted with an excited twitch.
‘I wasn’t staring,’ I growled. ‘Not at you anyway,’ I added giving a fleeting glance back at Sian, who seemed to be watching our exchange whilst pretending read the photocopies she had just made.
‘Aw,’ said Whitney, grabbing my chin and snapping my head back around, ‘don’t you like me?’
‘Not really,’ I said bluntly. I’d hoped for a different reaction, but she smiled.
‘Oh, you like me,’ she said with arrogant certainty. ‘You like me plenty.’ She slid off my desk and slinked past me running her hand over my shoulders as she went around behind me towards the copy room.
I watched her go, fuming; assuring myself that I was just scowling after her and not in fact taking pleasure in the sight of her deliciously tight little ass rolling as she walked away. The solid erection straining against my trousers begged to differ however.
When Whitney reached the copy room she stopped and looked back over her shoulder to check whether I was still looking and, to my shame, I was. She grinned triumphantly and disappeared inside, closing the door after her.
I ground my teeth, my eyes locked on the door behind which she was no doubt laughing at my expense. My hard-on raged and again I was aware of Sian’s eyes on it. I looked at her guiltily. She looked toward the copy room and then back at me, both of us knowing who had just gone in. Sian’s lips pursed angrily and she looked away, busying herself with her work while I just stared at her; my mouth opening and closing silently.
The thought of Whitney laughing at the awkwardness she had created between us had me suddenly irate. I pulled myself up out of my chair and ignoring my obvious boner, and ignoring Sian ignoring me, I burst into the copy room and slammed the door behind me.
I was knocked back when I saw Whitney sat atop the copier, legs spread and furiously masturbating.
‘Holy fuck!’ I gasped, my shoulders pressed against the door, but my dick pulling my hips toward her.
She didn’t stop, she just slowed her movements. ‘Oh, hi, Boy Who Doesn’t Like Me.’ I struggled to swallow as she withdrew her wet finger and licked it seductively. ‘How’d you like me now?’
I was speechless, so without words I walked over to the copier and dropped my trousers in front of her. The copier was at just the right height. I angled my throbbing cock down and thrust at her dripping slit.
Her tiny hand came out of nowhere and pinned my dick to the hot glass inches from entering her. ‘Nu-uh,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘I want to see what this looks like first.’ She pushed the scan button with her free hand and suddenly had to squeeze my eyes shut to avoid being blinded by the intense glow of the copier. A second later the machine spat out a sheet of pure pornography. Whitney picked it up and considered it.
‘It’s amazing how much more filthy dicks and cunts look in black and white,’ she mused. Then, setting the sheet down she said, ‘Now where were we…? Ah, yes.’ She leaned back against the copier’s open lid and then released my straining dick. Instinctively my hips thrust at her defenceless hole, but in that instant I was blinded once more and my powerful thrust somehow overshot its target; my thighs slamming into the copier as I stumbled forward.
Dazed and confused my only thought was: the dumb slut has hit the scan button!
As I lurched forward over the machine I heard rubber squeak against glass as her feet set down either side of me and could just make out the dark shadows of her legs. I went to grab them with the intention of yanking her off her feet and onto my dick, but in an instant they were gone and a much larger shadow loomed above me.
The copier lid came crashing down on my cock and to my horror I felt two other parts of my anatomy flatten along with it; my balls must have been thrown onto the glass by my overzealous thrust.
The last thing my brain thought before it was overcome by the unimaginable agony was: where did she go? But just as the pain hit, that question was answered.
Whitney came crashing down on top of the lid having leapt up over it as it fell. It was quite an athletic feat, but, as it had resulted in my balls flattening pancake thin, I was too busy blacking out to appreciate it.
I woke seconds later to find Whitney holding on to my collar as I lolled backwards.
‘Jesus!’ she hissed with exertion. ‘You almost ripped your own prick off!’
I was still seeing stars and unable to feel any other part of my body beyond my bollocks and I could feel every single throbbing nerve-ending in those. They felt two feet wide and, beneath the lid and Whitney’s weight, they probably were.
‘I’m going to let go now,’ said Whitney, matter-of-factly.
‘Please… no,’ said I in the most pitiful sob I’d ever heard myself make. Her hand let go of me and for a terrifying, agonising second I was suspended there by nothing but my cock and balls; teetering on the brink of falling while my deflating rod and feeble nut-chords struggled to support my weight.
It might have been my ball-strings tugging at my guts that brought the region back to life, but I somehow managed to regain control of my stomach muscles and hurl myself forward. Whitney caught my shoulders, stopping me just short of head-butting her square in the tits as I would have so loved to.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘I really did a number on your prick didn’t I?’
She hit the scan button and I felt the hot light run over the underside of my ball-sack. ‘What did I do?’ she continued, waiting for the scan to be spat out. ‘Snap it off?’ The copier ejected the mostly empty sheet of paper and Whitney picked it up to go suddenly silent.
‘Oh, my,’ she gasped, scaring the shit out of me.
They’ve popped! I thought bleakly. She’s staring at the carbon copy of my ruptured, leaking jewels. The pain was about right; I just needed her confirmation.
‘Oh, my god,’ she repeated, an astonished smile spreading across her face as I desperately tried to wrestle back control of my arms so I could throttle the smug right out of her.
‘No wonder you blacked out,’ she said finally, spinning the scan around. ‘Look!’ I took a fleeting glance at it to spare myself the horror of the mushy mesh, but all I made out was a thick rod and two healthy-looking orbs. ‘I got you balls too!’ she said happily. ‘This is better than thought!’
Though dangerously warped and hideously bulging with veins, I was almost as happy as her to see my balls.
Whitney tossed aside the sheet and began wriggling her ass around on top of the lid maliciously.
I let out a sorry moan as my balls, which had reached equilibrium beneath the lid, suddenly had their tender insides churned again by her constantly shifting weight.
‘Now how do you like me?’ she asked, revelling in my agony as all the tendons in my neck bulged.
‘Bitch,’ I spat through gritted teeth.
‘No, I’d be a bitch if I did this…’ She slid her ass towards me shifting her weight ever closer to my balls until she was almost right on top of them.
The pain of my balls reached up with its sharp talons to clamp down on my guts until my entire abdomen was consumed with the unbearable agony. As my squishy balls went suddenly solid below the lid I knew the end was near.
Whitney hit the scan button again and held up the copy, unknowingly halting her advance just in time to spare my castration.
‘Wow,’ she said, ‘those are some big nuts you have there.’ She leaned right, putting all her weight on one bum cheek and hit scan again. My right eye squeezed shut, but I felt my left bulge out of its socket as its genital counterpart reached breaking point.
‘Look!’ she said turning the copy. ‘I made the left one go bigger!’
I stared at the coaster-sized orb with my one open eye and wanted to kill her; to push her backwards off the copier so she smashed her skull, but the copier was backed up again the wall meaning I would have to throw her left or right and lose the corresponding nut in the process. She sat back down and spread her weight back over both my plums, which allowed me to open both eyes once more.
‘This will teach you not to like me,’ she started.
My breath was coming in sharp pants and my head was swimming and I found myself staring at her wet and swollen flaps with envy. I fantasised about punching my fist right up her cunt: wearing her like a glove; anything to distract myself from the dizzying, sickening sensation that gripped my abdomen and went beyond pain.
‘Not that I believed you didn’t want me for a second,’ she continued. ‘And that dumb slut you pretend to stare at…’ she added bitterly before trailing off. Her expression turned sour and she looked right into me eyes.
‘Let’s see how much your balls can take.’
She planted her hands down on top of the lid and prepared to slide her ass the millimetre or so necessary for my destruction. At that moment, the door opened allowing light into the gloomy room.
Whitney’s eyes widened with dismay and we both turned to see a top-heavy silhouette enter the room and freeze suddenly. I recognised the cartoon-like shape of Sian instantly.
She gasped in horror at the sight of me between Whitney’s legs with my pants round my ankles.
‘Oh, hi there,’ said Whitney suddenly composed. She wrapped her legs around my waist intimately. ‘Sian, isn’t it?’
Sian remained in stunned silence, staring at my bare arse.
I squeaked apologetically, but was unable to form words.
‘We’re kind of in the middle of something,’ continued Whitney, grinning devilishly. ‘Do you mind?’
Sian cleared her throat. ‘I need some paper,’ she said quietly.
‘Fine,’ snapped Whitney. She reached to her left, crushing my right nut this time, and picked up the copy of our genitals apparently moments from penetration. Keeping the printed side turned down she held it out for Sian.
Sian made her way across the room and accepted the sheet hesitantly, all the time avoiding eye contact as I desperately tried to make it. She turned to leave before noticing the image on the underside.
I died inside as I heard her turn the paper over and let out another gasp. I expected her to burst into tears and race out of the room, but instead she spun around with rage burning in her beautiful dark eyes.
‘You little bitch!’ she growled, before lunging at Whitney who was as taken by surprise as I was.
Sian caught her by the straps of her tank top and slammed her backward into the wall; releasing what felt like a tonne of pressure from my spuds, but before I could think to tug my trapped meat out from under the lid, Sian lifted her knee onto the copier for extra purchase as she slammed Whitney again and again into the back wall under a barrage of sobbed expletives.
I felt my nuts squash back down with much less gristly resistance than they had the first time and the spots instantly reappeared before my eyes.
Suddenly Whitney was fighting back. She grabbed Sian’s long, dark hair and dragged her up onto the copier fully. At that point, the liquids desperately trying to escape my crushed nuts filled my chords and rushed to the very base of my dick where they came to an abrupt halt as the rest of my schlong was pinned shut by the lid. It was a terrifying sensation to have half the contents of my plums forced out against their will, but the pressure it relieved from my cracking bollocks was enough to put off their rupture for at least a few more minutes.
With both girls on the copier, the fight was getting dirty. Whitney had torn open Sian’s shirt and her gigantic boobs were sloshing around spectacularly in their huge bra as the girls continued to tussle.
Sian had her hands wrapped round Whitney’s neck when the American reached up and ruthlessly sunk her nails into the soft, exposed flesh of Sian’s milk-monsters. Whilst Sian screamed, Whitney was able to roll her right on top of my balls.
I felt something give slightly and let out a blood-curdling scream which would have brought my other colleagues running if they hadn’t all left for lunch minutes previous.
Whitney had Sian pinned right in front of me and suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I reached out my right arm around the back of Whitney and pointing my thumb I plunged it into her tight little starfish. She bolted upright and shrieked as my thumb sunk deep. Her hips bucked away to leave wide open her vulnerable cunt and Sian wasted no time in seizing the opportunity quite literally and very brutally.
Though my mind was in turmoil, it still managed to take some perverse pleasure in the way Whitney sang soprano just like I had been doing on and off for the past ten minutes.
With Whitney knelt on the edge of the lid and most of her weight off my balls, they managed to survive when Sian then sat up directly on top of them to deliver a stunning right cross which sent Whitney somersaulting backward to dismount my cruel thumb and land heavily on the floor.
She lie there groggily clutching at her crushed clit and invaded ass-hole, whilst Sian glared down at her breathing heavily; her mighty melons rising and falling like great ocean swells now almost complete out of the cups of their bra.
Suddenly Sian turned her fury on me. ‘And as for you,’ she growled, pulling herself up onto her knees to face me; accidently catching the scan button with her foot as she did so. The instantly recognisable image of a stick and two balls caught her eye as it was ejected and caused her scowl to disappear.
‘Oh, my god,’ she gasped, looking down at the slither of hairy meat stretched between my groin and the copier’s lid. ‘What was she doing to you? Your poor ballsies.’ She looked into my eyes and I looked into hers. Both were full of tears. Then, overcome with emotion, she shuffled up close to throw her arms around me without realising she had set her knees down squarely on my much put upon jewels.
There was a loud crack! and I managed to croak, ‘You dumb slut,’ before passing out for a second time.
Thankfully it had been the glass that had cracked, not my spuds and when Sian realised what she had done, she quickly jumped off the copier; her mind no doubt full of romantic thoughts fuelled by the scenes of James Bond’s recovery with Vesper in Casino Royale.
Unfortunately, the truth wasn’t anywhere near as attractive as the fiction.
She would have lifted the lid to witness a great torrent of cum spill from my cock and flood the copier, and found my junk crushed and mangled; looking like some debauched flower pressing.
When I came round much, much later, I found she had at least pulled up my trousers before fleeing the scene.
There was no sign of Whitney.
I crawled out when I was sure everyone had left, and found Sian had stuck a notice on the copy room door that stated simply: ‘BUSTED’.
I returned to work after two weeks off, and I found it was Whitney’s first day back also.
When she spotted me she smiled apologetically and came over causing me to panic and cower away from her pathetically.
‘I’m sorry for what I put you through,’ she said with apparently genuine remorse. ‘I just got carried away… I’ve never had anyone not like me before.’
‘I understand,’ I said; if only to get rid of her.
She glanced at my crotch then asked, ‘How are you… down there?’ She looked down at the floor sadly. ‘Sian really did a number on me.’
This intrigued me and I stopped trembling for a moment to raise an eyebrow. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then whispered, ‘She pinched my clit so bad I kept getting uncontrollable orgasms followed by agonising pain – sometimes a dozen times a day.’
I let out a chuckle which she took as offence.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, suddenly feeling a sympathetic bond. ‘It’s just, my balls swelled up to the size of grapefruit and I had to keep “releasing pressure”, if you know what I mean.’ She nodded with a smile and I continued: ‘And every time I “released pressure” I ended up curled in a ball, squealing.’
She giggled and reached out to touch my little finger with her tiny hand.
‘What a pair,’ she said, before adding quickly: ‘You and me I mean, not your…’ She blushed. ‘You know what I mean.’
I smiled, taking her hand completely.
‘Whitney,’ I said, ‘I think I like you.’