Contains castration, heavy tit-busting and big tit and slut-shaming themes
‘Girls can’t wrestle,’ said Barry derisively.
‘Why not?’ Nat demanded. She squared up to Barry, stepping as close to him as her massive tits would allow. She was a good foot and a half shorter than he was, but the petite beauty knew she could take the big, sexist oaf.
‘’Cause you’re weak and easily breakable,’ said Barry chauvinistically.
‘I could say the same for two parts of your anatomy,’ said Nat with a confident grin.
Barry looked puzzled, but the boys backing him up knew what she was talking about and so backed away slowly, leaving Barry to face the tiny ball-breaker alone.
A crowd of curious students was beginning to form around the wrestling ring in which the two fighters stood.
‘Let’s go, Barry,’ she goaded. ‘I’ll make you submit quicker than you can say “ruptured testicles.”’
‘Ruptured...’ began Barry and Nat snapped her knee up into his nuts.
Her knee met the pendulous, Spandex-contained bulge with a loud splat, causing it to flatted across his groin and separate out into its three component parts: his thick cock was knocked upwards, flat across his belly and each of his nuts escaped crushing by shooting off in their respective directions as far as their sack would allow, ending up down the legs of his shorts. They remained held in place by the tight fabric, when he collapsed backwards onto the canvas; his weakened legs splaying out to display to Nat and the crowd the detailed outline of his redistributed genitals.
‘That’s certainly an interesting sight, Barry,’ said Nat nodding admiringly, ‘but I like both nuts together in a nice little package.’ She bent down to him and rolled his aching nuts back into the centre of his shorts, adding, ‘Besides, you wouldn’t want one nut getting left out now would you?’ She stood up and swiftly planted her foot on top of the newly formed mound.
The crowd was by now cheering and whooping, or at least half of the crowd was: the boys remained nervously silent, not wanting to draw any attention from the excited girls.
‘Please!’ squealed Barry as his nut-sack was ground mercilessly into his crotch. Nat enjoyed the feel of the twin bulges pushing back against the thin rubber sole of her plimsoll.
‘Please?’ teased Nat as she lifted her foot, ready to deliver a solid stomp to his battered scrotum. ‘You can’t beg your way out of your Warning, Barry.’
Natalie had a two-step (or two-stomp, as she liked to call it) approach for dealing with boys. The first step was to give them a Warning: basically a public and thorough nut-racking. Then, if the same boy dared to piss her off a second time he received The Punishment. It was generally accepted that after a boy received The Punishment he would never piss her off again. This was because The Punishment involved the agonising loss of a testicle.
Nat’s foot hammered Barry’s balls deep into his groin where they slammed against his pelvis and flattened almost, but not quite, to breaking point. She lifted her foot, but after his nut-sack unfurled once more it appeared only half-filled.
All the girls in the audience gasped – not because they had never seen a nut crushed (Natalie had dealt out many Punishments and the school had more than its fair share of ball-breakers besides her), but because they had never seen Nat accidentally crush a nut. Maybe she was dropping The Warning from now on and going straight to The Punishment. The boys went white as sheets at the thought and most began backing slowly away from the spectacle.
Nat, however, was unfazed by the apparent loss. ‘This happens all the time,’ she announced, and then cried, ‘New ball!’ With a solid punt to the perineum, the rogue testicle popped out of its snug hiding place in the inguinal canal and dropped into its wrinkly sack beside its swollen partner. Nat put her toe on the offending nugget, squashing it firmly into the canvas, and said, ‘Seeing as you tried to hide, you’ll be the one I pop if Barry misbehaves again.’ She looked sharply at Barry. ‘Got it?’ Barry nodded urgently.
‘Good, now say you submit.’
Barry nodded again, trying to wrestle back control of his vocal cords so that when he spoke he didn’t squeal like an excitable girl. He had no luck, ‘I—’ he squeaked, but before he could yield the gym door burst open and in stormed a young, blonde teacher. Her cold blue eyes locked on Nat causing the young girl to freeze.
‘Get your foot off his wonderful privates, you fat-titted whore!’ she bellowed, closing on the ring rapidly. The crowd surrounding it quickly vanished.
Nat didn’t move a muscle, she was frozen with fear. She had never been caught in the act of ball-busting, especially not on the balls of the school’s prized wrestler by the only teacher who didn’t think he deserved a little testosterone reduction.
It had to be said that the blonde teacher, Miss Bush, shared an unprofessional relationship with Barry and, more generally, any student with nuts. Students without nuts she treated, at best, disrespectfully. But it was students that actively took nuts from others that were treated most harshly and Natalie had just fallen into that category.
Miss Bush slipped under the ropes and put Nat on her back with a hard shove. Nat’s gelatinous tits rolled up her chest like waves before crashing down around her chin and ebbing away between her armpits.
‘Are you okay, my big boy?’ Miss Bush asked Barry, sickly sweet. Her voice hardened when she continued, ‘Did the little slut hurt your ballsies?’ Barry nodded sadly. ‘Well, don’t you worry – I’ll take care of you,’ she turned sharply to Nat, who had propped herself up on her elbows, and finished, ‘after I’ve taken care of this top-heavy tart.’ Nat gulped audibly.
Miss Bush loomed over her. ‘Roll onto you side,’ she said. Nat didn’t comply, through apprehension more than dissent.
‘Roll onto your side, slut!’ barked Miss Bush, and Nat quickly obeyed, her fat tits slapping against each other as she turned.
The crowd, now dispersed, but still watching from a distance gasped when Miss Bush then lifted her foot and brought it down solidly on Nat’s stacked jugs. Her foot sank into the soft, yielding flesh a good way, forcing Nat’s melons wider and flatter across the canvas.
‘All the girls that were watching this slut bust Barry, put your hands up.’ The response was understandably hesitant. ‘Do it or I’ll go through you one by one until I get the truth!’ She twisted her foot into Nat’s rack to elicit a pained yelp, which had all the girls raising their hands so not to be the next under her foot.
‘All you girls take off your bras, do ten laps of the field and then come back here. Boys, you go make sure they don’t hold their tits down and when you get back I’ll have a fun little show for you to watch.’ She looked at Nat with a telling grin.
The girls staggered back into the gym twenty minutes later, moaning wretchedly and clutching their aching tits in states of agony, which varied greatly dependant on the size of their jugs. The A and B cups were fine, suffering, if at all, from a little nipple chaffing; it was C cup that seemed to be the tipping point. At C there came bouncing and with bouncing came pain. A few girls had reached the lofty heights of the D and double-D cups, but it was the one girl other that Nat who had, through some miracle of hormones, managed to develop a whopping double-E cup that had suffered the most. She was barely conscious; supported under the arms by two of the A cup girls whilst another two girls tried to ease her pain by taking the weight of a tit each.
Insensible as she was, even she gasped with horror when she saw what Miss Bush had in store for Nat: Miss Bush had brought out the trampoline.
Stood at its centre was Nat; her hands tied securely behind her back causing her big, cartoon tits to be thrust out further.
It would be an understatement to say that Natalie’s tits were her dominant attribute. Seeing beyond her tits was impossible for men, and even close friends found it hard to describe her beyond ‘big tits and a ponytail’. They were over-inflated, gravity-defying balloons that seemed to act independently of her by taking her movements, amplifying them threefold and then bouncing off in the opposite direction with the zeal and energy of two excitable puppies. They were so animated and heavy, that even the slightest movement would have them jostling madly to regain equilibrium; and jumping, as she was about to be forced to do, even restrained by her sturdy sports bra, would have her fat jugs wrenching painfully from her chest.
‘If you think your boobs are aching,’ announced Miss Bush, standing beside the trampoline, ‘you girls got off with The Warning.’ She looked to Nat. ‘That’s what you call it, right?’
‘I don’t know,’ Nat growled. ‘Ask Barry... if he can speak without squeaking.’
Barry was sat in a comfy chair with his legs splayed and a bag of ice on his crotch. ‘Fuck you!’ he squeaked, before covering his mouth with embarrassment.
‘You think you’re so tough, don’t you, Natalie?’ snapped Miss Bush, climbing up onto the trampoline. ‘Well, let’s see how tough you are after The Punishment.’ She pushed her hands up Nat’s T-shirt and fumbled at her bra clasp.
‘No,’ Nat pleaded, suddenly terrified. ‘You can’t… Not without my…’
Her bra fired off her chest like it had been holding in the weight of the world and if it wasn’t for it being underneath her tight T-shirt it could quite possibly have cleared the crowd and hit the far wall. Miss Bush held the gigantic bra, which was as much a miracle of engineering as a piece of fashion, aloft triumphantly and soaked up the applause of the delighted males in the crowd, assuming it was for her. In fact, the ovation was for Nat: with the bra’s removal, Nat’s tits only seemed to grow and rise more; as if the bra wasn’t so much supporting them as holding them down.
Miss Bush slowly came to realise this, and with a growl more bitter and hateful than Nat had ever heard, she snapped, ‘Bounce you little slut!’
Nat bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling, but the sparkling tears that welled in her beautiful brown eyes were evident.
The girls in the audience could hardly bear to watch as Nat began to jump; the boys on the other hand were unable to take their eyes off her. Her bounces were tentative at first, but between the spring of the trampoline and the inescapable momentum of her bouncing baps, Nat was soon airborne and forced along for the agonising ride.
With every bounce Nat soared higher and so did her tits, and each time she reached the zenith of her bounce, her heavy jugs tried desperately to go higher, tearing at her chest and straining against her stretching T-shirt to punch her solidly in the chin.
She bounced on admirably for a further three minutes despite her tits having flopped completely out of her ruined T-shirt for all to see. Eventually though, she could take no more of the humiliation and torture, and her legs gave. She fell down, but her tits were already on there way up. They crashed into her face with the combined weight and consistency of a bag of cement and she was sent cartwheeling backwards to land back on the trampoline unconscious. It was another minute before the trampoline stopped tossing her limp body into the air and another minute more before her gelatinous jugs ceased to wobble.
Miss Bush waited for a time, letting Nat’s stillness sink into the girls before shouting, ‘I hope this illustrates just how pathetic your weak little bodies are, girls.’
‘We’re not weak.’ said a groggy voice. Miss Bush spun round with surprise to see Nat struggling to her knees. Her tits, usually buoyant and lively, now seemed to hang limply inside her massively stretched T-shirt.
‘Is that so?’ Miss Bush stammered. Catching herself, she came up with the only sure-fire way of putting an end to Nat’s dissent. ‘Well in that case I challenge you to wrestle Barry in a fair fight.’
‘Any time,’ Nat growled.
Both Nat and Barry cried, ‘What?’ simultaneously. Barry anxiously tugged on Miss Bush’s shorts. ‘But I’ll barely be able to walk tomorrow!’ he squeaked.
‘And she’ll barely be able to stand, trust me; she’ll be fighting with two aching lead weights pulling at her chest.’
‘She’ll hurt my balls again.’
‘She won’t touch your big ballsies,’ she whispered. ‘She’s keen to show she can win in a fair fight which means no low blows...but there’s no rules against beating the milk out of her fat titties!’ Barry smiled.
‘Barry’s man enough,’ announced Miss Bush. She turned to Nat who was nursing her visibly throbbing jugs in her arms. ‘How about you, bitch?’
Nat’s pride wouldn’t allow her to decline. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she growled at Barry, whose smile vanished instantly.
Miss Bush dismissed the class and with the help of the boys carried Barry into the shower room. Once she was gone, the girls began to hesitantly close around the trampoline where Nat lay motionless but for the throb of her tits.
‘Are you okay?’ asked one girl finally. It was the girl who shared Nat’s double-E cup size, Danielle.
‘I’ll be fine tomorrow, after I give Barry double helpings of the Punishment,’ she said weakly. ‘But I need your help, all of you. If we all work together we can put an end to Miss Bush and teach every last boy in this school which sex is superior.’
‘Just tell us what we have to do,’ said Danielle.
The Day of the Fight
Nat pulled her top carefully up over her aching tits and then over her head thinking all the while that her melons were even larger than usual. She dropped the top lightly on the bench behind her. Then, making sure not to squash her baps into her knees as she bent, she stripped off her panties. When only her bra remained she walked across the changing room to the full length mirror to take a closer look at her reddened, swollen breasts. They were indeed bigger – several cup sizes nonetheless. They had been swelling all night as she lay wide awake in bed, unable to find a position that didn’t cause her tits excruciating amounts of pain and now, minutes before the fight, her tit meat spilled out of every side of her double-E bra and a considerable amount protruded from the bottom. She didn’t relish taking off the supportive garment; the unrestrained weight of her huge jugs alone would cause her agony.
At least when boys got their balls busted they didn’t ache under there own weight, she thought bitterly.
She closed her eyes and tried to brace herself for the removal of her bra. She hadn’t heard Miss Bush sneak up on her and when, with a huge, evil grin on her face, she grabbed Nat’s bra strap and pulled, Nat was helpless to stop her.
Miss Bush jabbed her knee into the small of Nat’s back and carried on pulling back on the strap, crushing her fat, throbbing funbags inside her own bra forcing more and more rosy tit flesh out of the sides and bottom. Nat’s huge nipples were flushed with blood and erected like never before, almost tearing through the stretched fabric. Miss Bush’s grin grew when she saw the big nubs pushing at the material.
Suddenly letting the strap ping back with force into Nat’s back, Miss Bush spun her around and seized her hard nipples in a death grip. Nat’s cheeks turned crimson and she went light-headed, almost passing out. Seeing her losing consciousness, Miss Bush released her agonised teats and let her crumple to the floor, minus her bra; Miss Bush tore that from her and flung the large cups over her shoulder.
Staring down at Nat’s sobbing form, Miss Bush couldn’t help but giggle at her own handiwork. ‘Aren’t fat tits a bitch?’ she mocked, finally composing herself. ‘And that’s nothing compared to what you’ll get if you as much as look at Barry’s testicles.’ She turned and began to leave.
‘Cunt,’ sobbed Nat.
‘Oh, by the way,’ said Miss Bush turning, ‘here’s your costume.’ She pulled a tiny black piece of material from her pocket. ‘I know how much of a dirty slut you are so I took the liberty of customising it for you. Hope it fits well.’ With that she dropped the bastardised black leotard and left with all of Nat’s clothes.
From her ball on the floor, Nat knew she needed a miracle, and in the boys changing rooms across the way, that miracle was taking place.
After receiving his good luck blow job from Miss Bush, Barry was again getting his bone smooched, this time by the double-E girl, Danielle, who had taken it upon herself the give Nat a helping hand and, in this case, a caressing tongue and slurping mouth as well.
While she worked her magic Barry couldn’t believe his luck, but unfortunately for him he hadn’t noticed Danielle’s hands sneaking into his protective cup. When her groping fingers found their plump targets they seized them ever so lightly and then, sucking all the while, worked them gently out of the bottom of the protection. An easy target for Nat, Danielle thought happily.
All of a sudden his balls began to twitch and jerk and Danielle’s delight was cut short as Barry emptied his hot, sticky load deep inside her mouth.
The moment Danielle left the changing rooms she spat the foul man fat onto the floor and retched.
Still, she thought, it was worth it if Nat does what she does best.
When Nat finally appeared from the changing room, Barry and Miss Bush were already waiting in the ring. Taking a deep (but not so deep as to cause her baps to pop out) breath, Nat walked slowly toward the ring.
The costume Miss Bush had provided was actually marginally worse than being naked for not only did it leave nothing to the imagination (being several sizes to small and substantially trimmed by Miss Bush’s scissors) it also hurt to wear; the explicitly thin strips of material that Miss Bush had left to cover Nat’s private parts not only cut cruelly into her engorged jugs, but also sliced deep into the tender flaps of her pussy, at points disappearing entirely between. Even as she walked so tentatively, she felt as though she was being sawed in two.
‘Here she is,’ announced Miss Bush over the speaker system. ‘The one; the only; Nat “the Fat Knockers” Martin. Doesn’t she look intimidating with those plump pink tits jiggling like jellies? I’m scared. I wouldn’t want those blubbery baps to bust out and crush me.’
The mockery was crude, but the boys in the crowd loved it; the girls just watched on with gritted teeth. Miss Bush had reduced the school’s ball-busting bitch into pre-fight hilarity and titillation. The boys who once squealed and groaned, writhed and wailed, and cried and puked at her feet were now gawping at her perfect next-to-naked form and rubbing openly at their hard-ons.
All that filled Nat’s mind, however, was how to tackle her next ordeal - climbing into the ring. Up until now she had been able to keep her legs close together, thus hiding the majority of her tight, pink cunt from prying eyes, but cocking her leg over the lowest rope, she had no choice but to expose herself to the world. Her cheeks burnt with humiliation and as she ducked under the middle rope, her tits swung to the side causing her costume to slip straight up her pussy – pulling it wide open in view of half of the ecstatic audience. As the cheer echoed around the arena, Nat rushed to pull herself upright and in doing so spilled out of her garment. The cheer grew threefold as Nat’s famous melons flopped into view.
Nat wished she were dead.
Quickly, but painfully she squeezed her jugs back into the costume and gathered the material from her cunt cleft. Miss Bush would pay for this, she thought, but first Barry’s balls were hers. As she crossed the ring, she glared with all her womanly scorn at her targets’ location, expecting quite sensibly to find them hiding beneath a protective cup, but shockingly she found herself staring at the male equivalent of a camel toe: two egg-shaped bulges trapped beneath skin-tight Lycra.
Arrogant bastard, she thought as a smile played across her lips. He hasn’t even bothered to protect them.
‘I don’t want to fight her,’ said Barry, catching Nat’s smile and nut-level eye line.
‘Barry, baby, there’s nothing to worry about,’ Miss Bush reassured him. ‘All you have to do is go out there, throw a few good punches at those slutty slag-bags of hers and keep your ballsies at a safe distance.’ She shrugged. ‘Worst comes to worst: this will take the sting out of it.’ She reached down and patted his displaced cup confidently, never realising it was unoccupied by the two things it was meant to be protecting.
‘Now go get ‘em champ.’ She grabbed his shoulders, spun him around and pushed forcefully him into the centre of the ring. Nat was already waiting for him there and, unable to stop, he slammed into her, pancaking her tits across her chest until they sprung back and pushed him flat on his back.
As he hit the canvas he knew it was already over. This was exactly the position Nat wanted him in; on the floor, legs spread, nuts exposed and vulnerable. It was the position in which many unfortunate boys before him had received The Punishment.
He held his breath, squeezed his eyes shut and waited. But the sole of Nat’s plimsoll never set down on his balls and after a second or two he opened a single eye to see Nat hunched over, clutching her tits, her face scrunched up in a pained grimace.
‘Get up, you moron!’ yelled Miss Bush, who slipped under the ropes and stepped into the ring as an anything but impartial referee. ‘She’s stunned – finished her!’
Barry leapt to his feet, a wave of relief washing over him followed by a sudden, powerful rush of confidence. He could win this fight! And suddenly the crowd knew it too.
Seeing Nat weakened by tit-pain, the girls slumped into their seats dejectedly, but the boys were up and chanting.
Nat straightened as Barry charged her, she blinked clear her watering eyes and balled her fists, but Barry was upon her before she could counter. His big fist crashed in to the dead centre of her left tit with a fatty slap. Her tit ballooned out around his fist in a white doughnut as it sunk so deeply into the yielding flesh that it slammed Nat’s nipple flat against her ribcage.
The pain was so intense that Nat swore her tit had burst. But it hadn’t. Her irrepressible tit meat bounced back to bat away Barry’s right cross as if it had been an ineffectual grope.
Barry watched in horror as the monster melon filled back out to its original enormity and Nat could see that if she were able to mask her suffering and give Barry the impression her tits were invulnerable, she would have him fleeing the ring at once.
Unfortunately, as her crushed tit inflated and blood reached the crushed pain receptors, her eyes widened and tears trickled down her cheeks.
‘Aw, what’s the matter, Natalie?’ sneered Miss Bush leaning in threateningly close to her face. ‘Did Barry pop an implant?’
Nat just stared straight ahead, unable to retort for fear of her words coming out as sobs. Then her legs gave and she dropped to her knees.
Shocked by her own weakness, and further tormented as her weighty melons tugged down on her chest, let out a girlish whimper.
Miss Bush placed her hands on her hips and absorbed the sight of the troublesome teen brought to her knees. She turned to Barry who was grinning with uncontained joy and said with relish, ‘Finish her off. And make a show of it – I want the other girls taught a lasting lesson.’
Barry nodded and with a huge smile he walked around behind Nat and grabbed hold of the straps of her costume that crossed her back.
Nat was hauled up like a marionette. The costume, no more than a few strips of elasticised fabric, stretched thinner under her weight and began to garrotte her aching tits and soft, young pussy as she was raised off the canvas.
Barry’s muscles bulged as he lifted her higher to hold her suspended completely. Bearing Nat’s full weight, the costume vanished from sight at the crotch, swallowed by her inflamed cunt and peachy ass cheeks. Her dangling legs kicked and flailed ineffectually at Barry’s shins, but this just spread her flaps further and caused the costume to saw against her tender, pink flesh between.
The costume was no less cruel to her tits, where it cut in so deep that it appeared to have cleaved the plump orbs in four.
She opened her mouth to submit, but suddenly, through the blinding pain, Nat remembered his ill-fitting cup.
Planting her feet against Barry’s shins, she bent her knees until her spread ass cheeks bumped Barry’s tensed stomach and she could crouch no lower. Then, with a mighty push she launched herself forward and swung her petite frame into the air.
If Nat thought she had suffered true agony before, she was wrong. Anything she had undergone previously was nothing compared to the exquisite pain she felt as she arced upwards, her tits straining at the garrotte-like strips of fabric which spilt each melon in two. As she reached the pinnacle of her arc, thick blue veins became visible through the whitened, stretched skin and her bullet-like nipples were forced backward into the nerve-ending-filled glands causing not only immense pain, but also an obscene squirt of milky liquid to jet forth.
Despite the overwhelming pain, Nat pulled her right leg up to her chest and swung back down towards Barry who, gobsmacked by Nat’s actions, watched dumbly as she thrust backward her solid heel and with all her womanly might and all the momentum gravity could afford, struck him solidly in the unprotected nut-sack.
The crunch was earth shattering. Barry felt the treasured bulk of his left nut, a bulk that he had carried around with him all his life, suddenly and shockingly disappear in a miniature explosion that, although immeasurable on the Richter Scale, rippled through his body with the power of a nuclear detonation.
If Nat thought she had suffered true agony, she was wrong.
Nat’s foot remained planted on the mushy remains of Barry’s left nugget for a few more seconds before her costume final tore and she fell, naked, but relieved, to the canvas.
As usual, her face was never in any danger of hitting the floor.
Above her, Barry let out several strangled cries as his knees turned inwards and his eyes began to cross.
Miss Bush rushed over to her champion’s side and caught him before he could fall.
‘Round over!’ she announced in desperation and then quickly dragged him to his corner.
Nat just lay there, unable to move, but euphoric in the knowledge that she had served Barry The Punishment.
‘Why did you stop?’ Miss Bush demanded; so distracted that she overlooked the fact that Barry was cross-eyed.
‘She popped one,’ squeaked Barry.
‘One of what…?’ she asked before finally appreciating his agonised expression. ‘Oh.’ She reached down tentatively and prodded at his scrotum. She bit her lip in sympathy when her finger poked the empty corner where his left nut used to hang.
‘You can still fight though,’ she said impulsively. ‘You have to. You can’t let that little cunt win!’
Barry’s eyes uncrossed for long enough to give her an anxious look and she softened slightly. ‘So you’ve lost a nut, what do you think people will call you if you lose the fight as well? But if you win, after losing a nut, they’ll call you a hero!’
‘She’ll pop my other one,’ he squeaked.
Miss Bush smiled. She reached down his shorts and tossed his cup aside. Grabbing his remaining right nut she rolled it around his crotch until it sat in a depression then looked deep into Barry’s eyes.
‘Miss… what are you doing?’ he asked, a bead of sweat running down his temple.
‘What’s necessary,’ she said, before kneeing his bollock up inside him.
‘I’d like to see her pop that,’ she added with a confident smile, whilst Barry fell quietly unconscious.
Nat heard a familiar voice calling her. She opened her eyes and looked back at her corner to see Danielle beckoning her over.
Summoning the strength to lift herself, she winced as her flattened, sweat-covered tits peeled off the canvas and regained their regular shape. Her glistening funbags wobbled spectacularly as she stumbled to her corner and collapsed into the waiting stool.
‘Did you hear it?’ she asked, exhausted, but elated.
‘Hear what?’ asked her concerned friend.
‘The crunch… Tell me you heard it?’ Danielle shrugged apologetically. ‘I though everyone heard it,’ Nat said sadly. She sighed. ‘I guess poor, stupid Barry is going to have to lose the other one too.’
‘Really?’ asked Danielle with a mixture of delight and trepidation. ‘You’re going to actually, properly,’ she whispered, ‘castrate him?’
‘I’m a reasonable girl, Dani, but if I’m going to send a lasting message then I have to make sure everyone hears.’
Nat noticed Danielle’s eyes flicker south. She too looked down at her red, swollen jugs. A red line ran down the centre of each boob where her costume had cut in, but it was fading fast. Though her tits continued to ache so much she wanted to cry, to her entranced classmates the fleshy orbs seemed to be recovering tremendously quickly.
Only Danielle could appreciate the pain she was be feeling only Danielle had experienced life with the same, astronomical, cup-size.
‘Here,’ she said, pulling up her top and reaching around her back to unclip the mighty bra that had just been exposed along with all the wondrous flesh it contained. ‘Take this.’
‘No,’ said Nat instantly. She gestured at the crowd with concern. ‘They’ll see.’
Danielle had never once bared her tits either purposely or accidentally, which, given their size and uncontrollability, and the constant peer pressure to whap them out, was a considerable achievement and one which Nat was keen for her to retain.
‘Don’t worry,’ Danielle reassured her, sounding completely at ease. ‘Once you’re through with Barry, no boy will dare mention it.’ And with that she unclasped her bra and held it out for Nat to accept.
Nat, however, was unable to do anything, but stare in amazement at the naked baps before her. They were the same size as hers. They were no plumper, rounder or more buoyant than her own, yet despite this, Nat had never been so jealous.
There was something extraordinarily dumbfounding about Danielle’s tits. For as long as Natalie was allowed to stare at them, concentrating on anything else was impossible; she lost any trace of intellect and was regressed to the state of wanting nothing more than to suckle on the mind-blowing pair. And she was not alone.
As they stared at Danielle’s rack the lips of the boys in the crowd were working on reflex, sucking at an imaginary teat, whilst the girls’ mouths were simply open in disbelief.
When Danielle’s top came back down to eclipse her mesmerising melons, Nat’s brain was finally able to regain function and she was suddenly aware of a bead of pussy juice running down her inner thigh. She squeezed her legs together self-consciously, only to make a loud squelching sound as her soaking cunt lips smacked together. She reached out and snatched the bra from her friend sheepishly.
‘Thank you,’ she managed to say.
Danielle smiled pleasantly and shrugged, sending her unrestrained tits bouncing high up her chest. Nat heard them slap back down again, the sound echoing around the arena, and she was suddenly aware of the lack of cheering or wolf-whistling. She scanned the crowd to find the males in some sort of stiff-dicked, wet daydream, which it took them several seconds to snap out of.
Natalie had never concerned herself with the puerile lusting of the school’s boys. She knew herself to be the star of many of the more masochistic boy’s fantasies, but she had never tried to conceive of their ultimate sex object. Now, seeing them still reeling from Danielle’s fleeting tit flash, she knew. And she knew exactly how to exploit it.
She turned back to Danielle, but before she could speak she was sidetracked by the sight of the pair of cotton panties sliding down her friend’s legs.
‘You can take these as well,’ explained Danielle, kicking off the knickers. Nat accepted the underwear before shaking her head.
‘No, I want him to see exactly why I beat him.’
‘But, the crowd?’ said Danielle.
‘I want them to see as well.’
Danielle nodded, understanding, and then said with sudden excitement, ‘Oh, I brought these too!’ She reached inside her duffel bag and produced two plungers. Nat stared at the plumbing tools confused.
‘What are they for?’
‘Miss Bush,’ said Danielle cryptically.
Nat didn’t have time to ponder what she meant; she saw Danielle’s focus shift suddenly to a sight behind her, a sight that caused her friend’s jaw to drop.
‘Nat, are you sure you popped one of his nuts?’ she asked slowly.
‘Certain,’ said Nat, spooked.
‘Well, I think someone forgot to tell Barry that.’
Nat spun around and her heart almost stopped when she saw.
Barry was back on his feet.
Having woken Barry by holding a fishy finger under his nose, Miss Bush had proceeded to work him into a blind rage.
‘Come on, you wimp,’ she had goaded. ‘Get out there and beat the milk out of those fat udders! She took one of yours, you take both of hers! You can do this – you’re a man!’
Now, with his sole remaining nut trapped safely up inside his crotch, Barry was so raring to rip Nat’s tits off that the pain of losing a plum was but a distant throb.
Nat quickly put on Danielle’s bra on. She had no sooner fastened the clasp when Barry charged at her letting out a bloodthirsty roar. She deftly stepped aside and let him run headfirst into the corner post. He collapsed face-first onto the stool that was still damp with the sweet juices of Nat’s pussy and lay there dazed whilst Nat stepped in-between his legs and took hold of the waistband of his shorts.
With a devilishly grin she said, ‘From the sound of that crunch, I’m guessing I crushed that big left nut of yours, am I right?’
She chuckled and without allowing him to answer she tore off his shorts. His loose nut-sack flapped in the sudden rush of air and Nat wasted no time in snatching it up, but to her horror she found she was gripping only sack.
Alarmed, she searched every inch of his wrinkled satchel for the nut she was certain remained. She found only mush.
Stepping back in horror, panicked thoughts rushed through her mind: Did I pop both? How can he still be standing? How do I fight a man without balls?
Barry shook off the dizziness and picked himself back up. He turned around and was shocked to see Nat jump with fright. He frowned, feigned a grab and she let out a little shriek before kicking instinctively at his nuts. He tensed, waited for the pain to hit, but nothing happened. His empty sack peeled away from his crotch and flopped down unaffected.
That’s when it dawned on Barry that despite him standing completely naked in front of Nat, he was, without his jewels dangling vulnerable, for the first time truly safe from the tiny, weak girl that he had so feared.
And when he looked at those fat, throbbing titties he realised that finally the tables had been turned.
He grabbed Nat by the shoulder straps of her bra and hauled her off her feet. The bra forced her massive jugs upward into her chin, and then, with no place left to go, the soft, white meat bulged obscenely over the tops of her constricting cups until her big pink teats popped out catching Barry’s attention.
‘Go on, Barry,’ shrieked Miss Bush, ecstatic. ‘Bite her fucking nipples off!’
In desperation, Nat kicked her legs back and forth, her feet striking Barry’s empty scrotum to send it flapping backward lazily, but like his scrotum, her attacks were unfruitful.
Barry drew her closer and opened his mouth. Nat strained hopelessly, trying to reach the bra clasp so infuriatingly positioned as to be out of reach. Barry’s tongue flicked out and made the lightest contact with Nat’s blood-filled left nipple, but it was enough to focus Nat’s mind. In that instant, she knew what to do. She pushed her fingers underneath the bottom of the bra and gripped its sturdy underwire before yanking it outward with all her might.
Nat was yet again re-educated on the true meaning of pain. As her tits slipped through the tiny gap she had created between bra and chest they were compressed flatter than ever before. The whitening globes of flesh still to pass beneath were alight with pain as the nerves were crushed between tautening skin and bulging tit meat. It seemed more likely that her big boobs would burst before they would escape and they might have, if Nat’s nipples weren’t primed to go off.
Barry didn’t know what hit him. One second he was lusting at Nat’s big, bullet teats, the next he’s blinded by twin jets of hot milk striking his square in the eyes.
Nat’s tits exploded out from under the bra with a loud pop that had the crowd on its feet. She hit the canvas and dropped instantly to her knees.
The boys were roaring with joy and relief.
Barry had won – he’d popped Nat’s tits!
The girls feared the same.
The milk, the pop – surely it was over.
They watched Nat with a growing sickly feeling in their stomachs. What would she do next?
Nat wondered the same thing. All she wanted to do was hug her aching tits and suppress the excruciating pain that poured from those throbbing funbags and wracked the rest of her body. But she knew she couldn’t; she couldn’t show any signs of weakness after Barry had come back from castration with such strength. She looked up from the canvas and came eye-to-eye with Barry’s big, stiff cock.
I’ll knock the hard out of you, she thought and balling up her little fist she punched him in the hilt of the schlong. To her surprise, the wrinkled neck of Barry’s scrotum was suddenly stretched and a large sphere dropped to the bottom of the loose bag causing it to bounce.
So there you are, thought Nat with a huge, mean grin.
Barry finished wiping the milk from his eyes and saw Nat stood before him. The cock punch she had just given him had killed his hard-on, but was yet more proof that he attacks could not hurt him so long as his ball was safe.
He clenched his fists and took a menacing step towards her, but she didn’t retreat and, even more worryingly, she was smiling. He looked to Miss Bush for encouragement, but saw she was staring down at his crotch with dismay.
‘Barry…’ she said, but before she could go on, Nat’s plimsoll struck his single, dangling fruit with a crunch.
Barry’s knees turned inward as did his eyeballs and his mouth made a perfect ‘O’, but no sound passed his lips. Miss Bush watched him sink to his knees absolutely horrified.
‘Did you just…? Is he a…?’
‘Eunuch?’ said Nat, coolly. ‘Not yet – he just wishes he was.’
Miss Bush’s worry turned to rage in a flash. ‘You dirty little bitch,’ she snarled and with her long fingernails extended she lunged at Nat who simply ducked and sent her enrage teacher flipping over her.
Miss Bush landed on her back heavily and no sooner had she regained her breath than she felt a grip around her ankles. She lifted her head to see Danielle grinning back at her from around the corner post.
‘No,’ pleaded Miss Bush, but with a huge tug Danielle pulled her cunt-first into the post. There was a wet smack followed by the solid, reverberating thud of bone on metal and Miss Bush’s eyes went wide.
Her eyes were still glazed and unblinking when Nat bent down to yank her shirt off over her head, but to Nat’s surprise, as she gripped the bottom of Miss Bush’s shirt, her teacher’s dilated pupils contracted suddenly into their usual mean pinpricks.
Nat could only gasp as Miss Bush’s hands shot up and grabbed her pendulous jugs by the teats.
‘Danielle,’ she squeaked. Miss Bush looked down at her ankles, still gripped by her other infuriatingly top-heavy pupil, and with a smile she jerked her powerful legs up to her chest.
Danielle’s huge tits wrapped around the post and there came a metallic thud that sent her body limp. Her legs folded and her melons began to slide down the post faster than her top. Nat watched as the wrinkling fabric lifted to reveal the heavy, round undersides of Danielle’s jugs and held her breath as the pink circles of her areola were revealed, but before the perfect nipples could pop out Miss Bush pushed her legs out and kicked her squarely in the tits.
Danielle’s breasts ballooned and, with a squeak, slipped back around the post to disappear from view.
Nat’s attention was snapped suddenly back to her own tits when Miss Bush jumped to her feet and wrenched her up by them.
Being so short, it was easy for Miss Bush to lift her higher than her jugs were made to go. Nat’s hand thrust out instinctively to grab at her assailant’s crotch, but her fingers closed around nothing.
‘You know your problem?’ asked Miss Bush with a disdainful chuckle, as she watched Nat’s hand claw ineffectually at her spandex shorts, unable to seize enough meat for purchase. ‘Without a pair of balls to bust you’re nothing but a little, pathetic girl.’
‘And you know your problem?’ snarled Nat as Miss Bush continued to twist her nipples back and forth as she lifted.
Miss Bush took the bait. ‘What’s that?’ she sneered. Nat managed a smile.
‘This little girl just found your clit.’
Miss Bush’s entire body jerked as Nat’s fingers parted the soft folds and bore down on the hypersensitive little nub hidden within. Nat’s tits slapped down heavily onto her chest as Miss Bush let them go to clutch at her minge.
Every synapse in the cruel PE teacher’s brain was overloading as she tried to bat away the hand crushing the life out of her stiff little clit. She couldn’t believe the little bitch had found her only weakness with such ease.
Nat was elated. She grabbed Miss Bush’s throat with the other hand and marched her back into the corner. She called out Danielle’s name and was relieved to see Danielle pick herself up off the ground, albeit with a big red mark on her forehead from where she had head-butted the post.
‘I need you to do me another favour,’ Nat said.
‘I know what you need,’ said Danielle in a rare moment of perceptiveness. She scooped up the plungers and nodded to Miss Bush.
‘But I get to help you ruin this bitch.’
Nat grinned. ‘I wouldn’t think of doing it without you.’
Danielle returned her grin and leapt into the ring. She dropped the plungers beside Nat and took centre stage.
‘Right, boys,’ yelled Danielle, bawdily. She gripped the bottom of her shirt feeling a mixture of doubt and excitement which stiffened her big, cherry nipples and made her breasts swell larger. Perfect! she thought and with that yelled, ‘Who wants to see my tits?’
Every single male in the crowd burst their flies at the very idea, and when their dream girl actually proceeded to lift her top they quite literally emptied their testicles into their pants… but this wasn’t just the sexual overload that came from setting eyes on Danielle’s juicy, young melons; it was also because at that moment each and every girl in the audience had taken the opportunity to cave their balls in.
The sound of fifty boys getting racked echoed around the gym. The ones caught with solid punches groaned wretchedly, the ones caught by surprise pinches yelped and the unlucky few who managed to escape the initial attack let out terrible wails as several girls leapt upon them and set about the pulverisation of their ’nads.
The crowd was a seething, writhing mass as the girls seized the chance to take out all their frustrations and settle past grievances on the overwhelmed males. Excited shrieks were followed by agonised squeaks as one by one the boys had their nuts kicked, stomped and squeezed to the brink of destruction and, in a few unfortunate cases, beyond.
And then suddenly it stopped. All eyes were back on the ring as Nat let Miss Bush’s clit go and the teacher dropped to her knees with a relieved sob.
‘Danielle,’ said Nat, wiping the stink off her fingers, ‘do you mind lifting just one more top?’ She motioned toward Miss Bush.
Danielle’s only reply was an evil grin. She walked over to Miss Bush and gripped the bottom of her T-shirt as she had her own only moment earlier. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got,’ she growled before exposing her teacher to the crowd with one quick tug.
The squeals of the crowd abated as the teacher’s exposed rack drew most of the girls’ attentions away from the boys’ balls. Only a few girls dedicated to the annihilation of their victims’ manhood continued.
With both hands clasping at her twitching cunt, Miss Bush’s perky D-cup jugs were pressed together to create hillocks of mouth-watering flesh, topped by soft pink nipples at the summit.
Even Nat was shocked by the perfection of the bitch’s tits, having half-expected them to rise into cruel, dark-tipped points, dripping with spite. But rather than upset, Nat was ecstatic.
‘I’m really going to enjoy ruining these,’ she said, pulling back the plunger.
‘Me too,’ said Danielle, pulling her own top off completely before doing the same. She read Nat’s quizzical look as she stood their topless. ‘Like you said: I want her to see,’ she explained with a cheerful shrug.
Nat tightened her grip on the plunger handle.
‘Please,’ sobbed Miss Bush, but her plea was cut short when the two suction cups slammed into her, flattening her baps across her chest for an instant before swallowing them whole with an obscene slurp. It was a perfect fit. The cups had engulfed the entirety of each tit with made-to-measure snugness to form an unbreakable seal which sucked constantly at her soft skin.
‘Wow,’ Nat commented, impressed, ‘you got them in her size.’
Danielle shrugged and the two girls giggled and went about testing the plungers’ hold on their loathed teacher’s jugs. Each of Miss Bush’s doughy tits was gripped by the suction cups so entirely that they had no choice but to follow the girls’ every twist and tug. Seeing this, the girls really went to work.
Danielle did the obvious, she put all her weight on her back foot and wrenched backward on Miss Bush’s left tit, stretching it out long and thin until the force of suction inside the cup was so strong it felt to Miss Bush that the great mass of her tit fat was being sucked out through her nipple.
It was the obvious route, and looked to Nat to be great fun, but she wanted Miss Bush to endure the whole spectrum of tit-pain so, leaning into Miss Bush with all her weight, she pressed her teacher’s right jug flat against her chest and used her ribcage like a washboard: forcing the tit up and down, mashing the tightly packed bundle of nerve-endings behind Miss Bush’s nipple into every rib along the way.
She took extra pleasure in knowing the sight Miss Bush saw through pain-scrunched eyelids was her big, fat tits hanging forward; juicy pendulums of womanhood which, despite their maltreatment, still mocked the teacher with their proud and pouting teats.
‘Right,’ growled Nat, suddenly leaning back along with Danielle, ‘let’s wring the milk out of them.’
Miss Bush yelped in anguish. As she looked at her tits, stretched out a foot in front of her, she could barely stand the pain. Then Nat and Danielle began to twist the plunger handles around and around.
Miss Bush screamed as her tits felt like they were about to explode. With each rotation the bulk of her tit flesh was forced into an ever smaller, ever more solid ball which crushed every nerve-ending ever tighter.
Though she didn’t know it, Miss Bush was as close to the pain suffered during castration as a woman could get and if it weren’t for the vacuum inside the suction cups holding them together maybe her tits would have popped, but they couldn’t, so Miss Bush was held at the highest threshold of agony without chance of the reprieve males get when finally their balls burst.
Once her tits were twisted as tight as they would go, the girls planted their feet in Miss Bush’s cleavage and pulled with all their might: determined to rip her tits clean off. But the cheap rubber suckers couldn’t take the strain and suddenly the wooden handles came away taking with them a small part of the middle of the suction cups.
There was a hideous crunch as the instant depressurisation forced Miss Bush’s nerve-packed tit meat through the tiny holes left in the suction cups and a loud pop as it expanded rapidly on the other side finally able to release the pressure within.
Nat and Danielle’s asses hit the canvas a fraction of a second before they were both hit by a powerful spray of hot milk which struck their faces so hard it stung.
It was over in a second and the girls were able to blink away the milky liquid and survey the ruins of Miss Bush’s tits.
Droopy and deflated, stretched and sagging, they were a sad sight with nipples purple in colour.
‘Yowzers,’ said Danielle, grimacing. ‘It looks like she breastfed a vacuum cleaner.’
Miss Bush took one look at her tits, hanging out of the middle of the suction cups, and promptly fainted. She toppled forward landing face down ass up in a puddle of her own tit-milk.
After a while both girls stood and found they were still holding the wooden handles of the plungers. Looking at each other they grinned recklessly and walk around behind Miss Bush who was beginning to come round.
‘Which do you want?’ asked Danielle, gesturing toward the teacher’s ass. ‘Pink or stick?’
‘Oh, definitely stink,’ said Nat with relish. She yanked down her teachers shorts and with a double plunk they filled her holes.
Nat was brushing off her hands when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to spot Barry crawling towards the edge of the ring.
‘After all that excitement I’d forgotten all about you,’ yelled Nat, causing Barry to yelp with fear and accelerate his pathetic escape. ‘Now where do you think you’re going with that bollock?’ She caught up with him in a few short strides and brought her foot down on the nugget trailing between his legs.
He froze instantly.
‘Now, you’re going to do as you’re told or I’ll…’ She faltered; her forehead creasing as she struggled to think up a threat worse than what Barry knew was coming. She turned to Danielle and said, ‘He knows I’m going to pop his bollock, what else can I threaten him with?’
Danielle smiled. She skipped over to the edge of the ring where the girls were crowding for a better view of the historic event about to take place. Bending over, she whispered something to one of the girls and was handed a small object, which Danielle then aimed at Barry.
‘Do as you’re told or I put your castration on YouTube,’ she barked pressing record on the video phone. She saw Nat beaming at her and winked back.
Not wanting to lose her focus, Nat quickly turned back to Barry and growled, ‘Sit yourself against that corner and spread your fucking legs.’ But threat of YouTube or not, Barry ignored her.
‘Girls?’ said Nat, requesting a helping hand from the surrounding teens who leapt at the chance to play a part in Barry’s emasculation.
As the girls reached into the ring and took up hold of his struggling limbs, none of them could understand why he was putting up a fight: surely by now even he must have come to see his nut as an unwanted burden. Nat would be doing him a favour in taking away his final frailty. He surely had to admit that his package would look infinitely more impressive without that bloated, veiny plum dangling there like a throbbing bull’s-eye for every female to direct their malice toward.
Even with his greater strength, the girls had their way in the end; sitting him up against the corner post and hooking his legs over the lowest ropes. One of the cheekier girls even reached in to lift his drooping cock out of the way.
‘Good boy,’ Nat cooed mockingly as she stared down at his pathetic form.
Naked, but for his boots, Barry’s muscular physique was still an imposing sight, but it lost all trace of intimidation when seen nude. There was something about male genitalia, thought Nat, no matter its size, that was amusingly pitiful and Barry’s was no exception; with his fat, cum-crusted cock, stuck in a state of semi-arousal, and his stretched, red sack sprawled out in front, its lone occupant rolling comically within, Barry’s privates looked the epitome of pathetic.
‘Let’s soften it up before I go for the pin,’ said Nat. She put her boot on top of his nut and pressing down she rolled it around beneath her thin rubber sole. Applying increasing pressure she began to feel every detail of the anatomy of his nut through the plimsoll. It was smooth and round but for the back where all the chords and nerves connected in a mess of bulging, tender flesh. She focused her grinding on that area for a while causing Barry to emit the strangest gasps and squeaks she had ever heard.
The other girls couldn’t believe Nat was doing enough with her foot to cause Barry to produce such distressed noises – she seemed to be merely turning her ankle in a circle. No one but Nat and Barry could understand the intimate torment going on beneath her plimsoll.
Behind her, Danielle was catching the whole thing on camera with one hand, and playing with her dripping, young cunt with the other. And she wasn’t the only one recording this secret female fantasy. Other girls were desperate to capture the scene; they thrust out their phones and pushed for the front, but it was Danielle who would get the footage all the girls would kill for.
Getting sudden brainwave, she placed her phone on its side on the canvas to film the final moments of Barry’s pancaked nut as Nat announced she was going for the win.
‘One,’ she counted, leaning in to the corner post to increase the pressure on Barry’s remaining plum whilst dangling her heavy tits in front of his purple face.
‘Please,’ he squeaked, as under her foot his nut squirmed in vain.
‘Two,’ she continued, ignoring him; lifting her other foot off the ground so that all her weight was bearing down on his poor, fragile nut; pinning it so flat that it had no room to squirm. Nat grinned, recognising the familiar feeling of a nut at breaking point. All it would take was a little more…
‘Three!’ yelled Danielle, leaping suddenly onto Nat’s back.
In that moment, Nat felt ecstasy as Danielle’s gigantic tits squashed flat against her shoulders, bulging outwards to envelop her neck and cheeks in their doughy embrace, then heaven as, with Danielle’s skirt billowing up, there was nothing to stop her friend’s hot, wet pussy from smacking noisily against her lower back.
And just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, Nat felt a wonderful sensation beneath her plimsoll as the gristly shell of Barry’s nut ruptured explosively and left her standing flat on the canvas.
The crowd fell silent as an almighty pop echoed about the gym.
The silence was broken several seconds later by a mewling which started low within Barry’s groin and built to an ear-splitting, shrill squeal as a torrent of thick, lumpy jizz erupted from his prick to plaster Nat’s face and tits and catch Danielle across the nipples and nose.
Abruptly spent, Barry passed out and the gym was again silent again.
Danielle dismounted, her big jugs running cum down Nat’s back as she did so.
The girls looked at one another with appalled shock and horror for a moment, but slowly a smirk began to form on their beautiful, spunk-spattered faces. Nat and Danielle started to giggle, with shock at first, but quickly with immeasurable glee.
Then, despite dripping with all sorts of unspeakable bodily fluids, the two girls flung their arms around one another and kissed passionately before treating the crowd to another, quite different type of grappling…