Ball-busting University Babes
Final in the Getting Schooled trilogy
Contains ball-busting and castration (once graphic)
‘Please,’ begged Donna, her big, blue eyes pleading.
‘I really don’t like hospitals,’ I whined.
‘It’s not a real hospital it’s a teaching hospital, and I really need a volunteer. If I find a volunteer, Doctor Cantrell will give me extra credits. Please,’ she implored, ‘I really need the extra credit.’
‘What kind of tests?’ I asked, relenting; unable to say no to such a beautiful, desperate woman.
‘Just pulse and blood pressure, I’m sure; the usual stuff. Please. I’ll treat you to a night out; anywhere you want.’
‘Bowling,’ I blurted with Tourette’s like enthusiasm.
‘Okay, bowling it is,’ she said with a sweet smile and then she hugged me tightly chanting: ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’
That evening we hit the bowling hall and Donna was, as usual, wearing the most inappropriate clothing possible for the situation.
To go bowling she had slipped into the shortest denim skirt I had ever laid eyes on and a T-shirt made from a transparent material that would have shown everything but for a strategically placed print, which covered her nipples, but left completely exposed the smooth undersides of her breasts.
I never understood how she got away with it, but it seemed that as long as you have the look and demeanour of a top fashion model, it’s quite acceptable to flash large portions of your tits and ass at family attractions. Amazingly, this wasn’t the main reason I leapt at the chance to bowl with her.
The reason I loved to bowl with Donna was this: she couldn’t bowl to save her life and I enjoyed very much teaching her; putting my arm around her tiny waist and pulling her warm body close, resting my chin on her shoulder and breathing in the dizzying scent of her hair, occasionally sneaking a glance down her gaping top to see all but the peaks of her small, pert breasts. This went on for most of the game, until she decided she would like to practice a few times without my help.
‘Why?’ I squeaked with shock and sadness. Suddenly it hit me that she might have felt my stiff cock rubbing against her bare thigh. I stepped back quickly. She turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised.
‘I just want to be able to bowl without your help,’ she explained with a shrug. She turned back to face the pins and I let out a sigh of relief so long that when she swung back the bowling ball into my crotch I had no more air left in my lungs to exhale. The weighty ball struck my nuts totally and devastatingly; its shape and size meant my usually agile orbs couldn’t slip around it to freedom as they had so many times with girl’s knees. I felt the two hard lumps that were my flattening balls forced deep into the flesh of my groin and then I dropped to the ground.
I was winded. The wheezes and breathless squeaks coming out of my mouth and the desperate spasms of my lung trying to refill must have given the impression I was having some sort of seizure because Donna immediately dropped the bowling ball and wedged a beer mat in my mouth. ‘You’re going to be fine,’ she assured me. ‘Just breathe.’
A worried crowd was forming and I became aware that a few girls had noticed what Donna had so far been oblivious to; they were pointing at my testicle cupping with grins and twinkling eyes. If Donna twigged the real cause of my writhing I knew what would happen next. I could see it clearly in my mind’s eye:
Donna would cry: ‘I’ll check they’re okay!’ and in seconds she would have wrestled the pink pair out of my boxers to examine them in front of an audience.
So, though it went against my every natural instinct, I pulled my hands away from my crushed nuts and gripped Donna’s hands.
‘It’s okay,’ she announced, ‘I’m training to be a doctor.’ This seemed to reassure the crowd who had no idea she’d only been training for three weeks.
After a minute or two of controlled breathing, I was able to let Donna pull me up into a sitting position. The crowd had dispersed, even the girls (who seemed thoroughly disappointed not have witnessed the aftermath of a ball-busting), and I was able to slyly resume cupping my aching nuts.
‘I didn’t know you had seizures,’ Donna said, her blue eyes sparkling with concern.
‘Neither did I,’ I whispered to avoid the tell-tale squeaking of a ball-bust. Her mouth twitched as she looked me over; I quickly let go of my throbbers once again and finally she shrugged.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I fine,’ I said. ‘I just need to sit down for a while. Oh, and would you pass me my drink down off the counter? All that seizing made my thirsty.’ Donna nodded and stood to pass me the ice-cold cola that I was about to press against my swelling plums and as my eyes naturally followed her fantastic legs I caught a glimpse of the neatly shaven treasure she kept under that tiny skirt. It was the briefest of glimpses, but when I came to hold the drink against my nuts, my dick was already trying to peek over my waistband.
‘You should keep bowling,’ I squeaked.
‘You sure?’ she said with a frown. ‘I was going to look after you.’
‘No, no,’ I insisted. ‘You play. I can give you tips from here.’
‘Okay.’ She shrugged causing her little tits to bounce. She stood and spun around quickly, denying me another upskirt, but when she bent right down to pick up her dropped bowling ball, I literally came in my pants.
As my head lolled backwards and my eyelids flickered I struggled to believe it was happening without a single touch of my dick. I could only attribute it to the massive trauma my nuts had just suffered, but right away I knew it wouldn’t have happened without the spectacular sight of Donna’s kebab.
I recovered in time to hear Donna score a strike. She spun around and threw her arms up in celebration. The print covering her nipples rose to her collarbone and my dick gave a final, involuntary squirt to leave my balls pained, but happily empty.
That night Donna had to all but carry me back to my dormitory block. She got me to my door and I stumbled inside willing my legs to hold me for just a second longer as we said goodnight.
‘Don’t forget,’ she reminded me, ‘tomorrow morning I need you at the teaching hospital by ten.’
‘Sure thing,’ I said and sharply shut the door before my legs gave and I toppled to the floor.
I had a hard time sleeping that night and when my alarm clock went off I almost cried; the pain in my nuts having not subsided in the slightest.
I turned on the shower and the strong spray pummelled my swollen balls like a punch bag leaving me on my knees groaning for several minutes. I towelled off and dressed in my baggiest jeans and roomiest boxer shorts. Then I made my way to the teaching hospital that was attached to the campus. The walk was excruciating; never before had I experienced the sensation of each ball knocking against the other. I had to stop and let them settle every few hundred metres before their clacking against one another escalated further and caused me to collapse.
Donna met me at the hospital entrance wearing a white doctor’s coat over tight jeans and a cut-off top that exposed all her midriff and didn’t stop until it was within a few inches of the undersides of her tits.
‘Where have you been?’ she hissed with frustration. ‘I told you ten o’clock – it’s ten past and Doctor Cantrell will be here in five minutes and you aren’t even ready.’
‘I’m ready,’ I said as she hurried me up a flight of stairs and spun me so unexpectedly into an examination room that I lost my footing and my thighs came together mashing everything hanging between. I collapsed forward onto the bed and lay there motionless with my legs hanging over the edge whilst Donna stood over me expectantly.
‘Come on!’ she urged. ‘Stop messing around. She’ll be here any second and I need you in your gown.’ The mention of a medical gown caused me great unease, but I was unable make my misgivings known before Donna lost her patience and huffed, ‘That’s it; if I have to undress you myself I will.’
She grabbed the waistband of my baggy jeans and in one swift tug she had them off. Next went my shoes and sock and finally she yanked my T-shirt over my head. Slumped over the bed wearing only my boxers, Donna threw a gown over me. ‘I’m not struggling to put that on,’ she said before reaching underneath to slip off my boxers. I could hear her behind me folding my clothes and could feel her stare upon me.
‘Stop being a big kid and get your gown on before Doctor Cantrell gets here.’
‘Too late,’ said the doctor entering the room with three girls behind her wheeling a trolley covered with a white sheet. I suddenly regained the use of my extremities and, clutching the gown tightly over my rear, I bolted behind the bed. ‘What’s this?’ demanded the doctor, thumbing in my direction. The three girls giggled and tried to see over the bed.
‘I brought a volunteer like you asked,’ said Donna unsurely, as I struggled into the gown out of sight.
‘You managed to get a volunteer for this?’ said the doctor sounding pleasantly surprised. My immediate question was what is “this” that I’ve volunteered for and why do you sound so shocked, but she made it instantly apparent when she said, ‘Well, looks like we won’t need these any more,’ and pulled the sheet off the trolley to reveal three shockingly life-like models of the male genitalia, all of which looked like they had seen a lot of misuse.
My jaw dropped as did one of the model’s testes; it slipped out of a gash in its rubber scrotum and bounced across the floor comically.
‘Quick, stop it,’ yelled the doctor Cantrell. ‘Those things cost a fortune to replace.’
‘I’ve got it!’ announced one of the girls, stomping her foot down on the orb, which immediately popped in an explosion of saline solution. ‘Shit,’ she gasped, ‘Those things are realistic.’
The doctor put her hand to her forehead and with a sideways glance at me sighed, ‘I hope we have good insurance.’
‘There’s no way I’m doing this,’ I hissed at Donna. We were behind a screen while the doctor and other girls waited behind. ‘Where are my clothes?’
‘Look, I’m sorry I got this all mixed up, but I still need the extra credits; you’ve got to do this for me.’ She was on her knees begging.
‘Doctor Cantrell has sent all the boys away to feel their own testicles – it’ll only be the girls.’ I shook my head like she was crazy. ‘Please, just do this one thing. I need these credits so badly.’
I don’t know why, but her desperation turned me on and once I was turned on my thoughts went immediately to sex. ‘How badly?’ I asked with a predatory look that made my intentions plain. She acted unsettled for a moment, caught off-guard by the question and its implication.
‘A hand job,’ she said finally.
‘Really?’ I said, in truth surprised she had got my meaning at all. ‘Okay.’ I took hold of her hand.
‘Now?’ she gasped. ‘Won’t that make them…smaller?’
‘Smaller?’ I repeated.
‘Your nuts. They get smaller when they’re empty.’ She had a point; if I was going to let a bunch of girls examine I did not want to appear small.
‘Okay,’ I agreed, ‘afterwards, in my room, but you have to be naked.’
‘I’d assumed that anyway,’ she said, standing. She turned away from me and made to walk around the screen, but she stopped and said without turning, ‘Thank you for this.’
I grinned wide – not only had I got her to strip naked and degrade herself by giving me a hand job, I’d also got her to feel it was me doing her the favour.
‘Okay,’ I shouted over the screen. ‘Let the first in.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Doctor Cantrell pulling back the screen to reveal the three girls plus Donna holding a variety of torture-looking instruments. ‘This is a group examination.’
‘Are you going to use all those on my…?’ I couldn’t finish the sentence.
‘Well, they have to learn the tools of the trade,’ said Cantrell stepping forward to swiftly lift my gown. ‘Yikes, girls, the patient is clearly nervous.’ She gestured to my shrivelled cock and sack making it shrivel further. ‘We can’t work when he’s like this so the first thing is to make him feel at ease and the way we do that is by telling a joke or something to break the ice.’
‘Oh!’ said one of the girls, a pale redhead, ‘I’ve got a joke.’
‘Is it appropriate, Kelly?’ asked the doctor, still holding up the gown despite my attempts at tugging it back down.
‘It’s so appropriate!’ she enthused, snatching a tape measure off another girl. ‘It’s medical, see,’ she pulled out the retractable tape and measured the distance between my nose and groin, ‘you take the distance between his face and privates,’ she then lifted the tape to read the measurement, keeping the other end at my nose, ‘and that gives you how many minutes he’ll be unable to walk.’ She let go of the heavy container and let it swing down to its perfectly calculated target. The container struck my nuts squarely, sending them swinging backwards into my arse with a slap.
For such a relatively small blow (relative to a bowling ball for instance), the tape measure caused me untold agony. It reignited all the pain that I had somehow managed to block out from the previous day’s busting. As I folded in the middle and dropped to my knees I heard the other girls burst into laughter. I listened carefully for Donna, but couldn’t tell if she was joining in our not, but she certainly didn’t come to my aid.
‘Kelly!’ said Cantrell astounded.
‘What, Doctor? We’re all at ease now.’
‘Yes, but it was him you were supposed to put at ease, not us.’
‘Oh,’ said Kelly, biting her lip. ‘I broke the ice though.’
‘You broke his balls,’ said a raven-haired girl with a snigger.
‘Are you going to mark me down for this?’ asked Kelly.
‘I certainly am,’ said Cantrell writing on her clipboard. While she wasn’t watching Kelly gave me a kick to the ribs and hissed venomously, ‘Baby.’
‘Leanne,’ said the doctor as Kelly fell back into line. A bouncy blonde with a huge smile bounded forward. ‘Your turn,’ said Cantrell. ‘Make him feel better.’
‘Okay!’ she enthused and she bent at the hips to reach eye level with me, only my eyes never made contact with hers; her heavy tits were all I could focus on. They hung down pendulously, stretching out her flimsy top so that I could see all the way down to her pierced navel through the gap between her jugs.
‘Do you think you could stand up for me please?’ My brain ignored the request, but my cock, well-mannered as ever, began to comply; lifting my gown beneath my protectively cupping hands.
When I continued to sit there staring dumbly cross-eyed at her tits, she became impatient. Hooking her arms under mine she hauled me onto the bed; her fantastic baps alternately squashing and jostling inches from my robotically suckling lips before she dropped me unceremoniously on my arse onto the bed and stepped back. The girls gasped. My eyes flicked up from Leanne’s melons to see her shocked expression; her wide eyes fixed on my suddenly exposed boner. I looked to Donna immediately, the guilt and humiliation too much for me. Her beautiful eyes were locked similarly on the inexorable rise of my obscenely swelling knob.
‘Oh, my,’ she said in a whisper.
‘Leanne!’ shrieked Cantrell, snapping me into action. I covered my shame with both hands, leaving my nuts hanging loosely below. ‘This is not some sort of massage parlour!’ she continued. ‘This kind of behaviour is not acceptable! You’ll be losing points for this!’
‘What?’ the buxom blonde cried. ‘It’s this pervert’s fault! Look at him staring at my tits!’ At that moment in time I was too mortified to be ogling her tits, but I couldn’t help looking guiltily at Cantrell who ignored me like I wasn’t there and continued to stare at Leanne sternly until she huffed and stomped back into line with the rest of the girls.
Next, Cantrell’s terrifying stare was on me. ‘Well, I suppose this kind of thing is inevitable when examining male genitalia; we may as well deal with what to do if the situation…arises.’ She allowed herself a silent chuckle. ‘Any ideas, girls?’
‘I say we get Kelly to “put him at ease” again,’ suggested the raven-haired girl. She pulled out the tape and let it snap back into the container to illustrate.
‘Do we just ignore it?’ said Donna, unable to take her eyes off my poorly hidden dick.
‘Correct, Donna, another point for you.’ As Donna smiled happily the other girls exchanged resentful looks with one another. ‘Some doctors think that an erection actually helps a testicle exam as it keeps the penis out of the way…So let’s continue like it isn’t there. Melissa, you’re turn, and, first thing’s first, get him out of that gown; it’s hampering the examination.’
‘Yes, doctor,’ said the raven-haired girl striding forward confidently. Before I could react, she threw her arms around me and began untying the knots behind my back. I struggled feebly, but her embrace was as unyielding as her slender body, on which I could feel no softness as she pressed herself into me. Not even her small breasts were soft; they were firm little orbs with hard bullet nipples that prodded at my chest as she tore at the knotted string of my gown. The coldness of her caused my own nipples to stiffen; the only trace of warmth from her entire body was the heat that emanated from between her thighs. My hands, still desperately clinging to my hard cock, were bathed in the heat of her pussy as she grinded purposefully it into me.
She stepped back suddenly and whipped away my gown like she was doing the old tablecloth trick. My hands instinctively reached out after it giving her exactly what she’d wanted. ‘You are a pervert,’ she said, eyeing my dick, which was by now bulging shamelessly with engorged veins. She brought her arm back down quickly and whipped the gown across my nuts. I yelped in anguish and fell backwards onto the bed clutching my jewels.
‘Oops, I think I caught him,’ said Melissa, convincingly apologetic.
‘Okay,’ snapped Cantrell, ‘this is getting quite out of hand!’ I assumed she meant my torture, but apparently she was referring to my reaction to it. She turned to Donna. ‘Is your friend serious about helping us or is he just here to roll about like a child?’
‘He wants to help,’ she said, rushing over to me. She leaned in close and whispered desperately, ‘Stop messing about and I’ll make it a blowjob.’ I surprised myself how suddenly I stop moaning. She helped me sit upright.
‘See,’ she said, ‘He’s serious.’
‘Maybe so,’ said Cantrell, ‘but I need some reassurances that this won’t turn into comedy hour. Melissa, roll over the birthing stirrups so we can keep his legs open wide, and Kelly and Leanne, can you two bind his hands with the bed straps for me?’
‘Wait! What?’ I squeaked, as the two girls grabbed my arms.
‘Hey,’ said Doctor Cantrell, in a calming tone. ‘This is just a precaution – I’m going to be doing the majority of the examination so there’s nothing to worry about.’ This did calm me slightly – not that I had a choice in the matter as my arms were quickly strapped to the bed and the birthing stirrups were rammed between my legs; forcing them out into an extremely splayed position that put everything on display; my unfalteringly stiff cock, my swollen balls, even my arse hole.
As everyone stood back and smiled at their handiwork I felt more naked than I ever imagined possible. It was the kind of nakedness I’d only imagined women could feel; I felt like one of the bullied women reluctantly spreading their pussies for a Spring Break crowd.
Needless to say, I was feeling a little faint, and that was before the doctor said: ‘Now, girls, I’m going to be using the patient here to show you how to deal with the most common types of testicle-related injuries. Can anyone suggest one to start with?’
‘Rupture!’ said Melissa immediately, causing Cantrell to chuckle out loud.
‘Good, but that’s one we won’t be covering today, I’m afraid, and certainly not one I’d start with.’
‘Torsion,’ said Donna.
‘Well, done. Testicle torsion is extremely common. It’s when the testicles become twisted or even wrapped around each other. It can happen in motorcycle accidents or even rough intercourse and cause restriction of circulation and loss of the testicles through atrophy…put basically, the gonads shrivel up and drop off.
‘Now does anyone think they can spot a testicle torsion if presented with one?’ The girls’ hand went up unsurely. ‘Okay, let’s put that to the test. I’m going to twist one of the patient’s testes around the wrong way and we’ll see if any of you can tell me which is backward.’
‘What?’ I shrieked.
‘It’s painless,’ Cantrell said with a coolness in her voice that told me she was tired of my protests. She took my left nut in-between her cold fingers and asked while squeezing: ‘Okay?’ I nodded breathlessly. ‘Good,’ she said and deftly spun my nut around. I expected it to spin back around harmlessly, given the roominess of my sack, but it just stayed there twisted and bulging oddly against the thin, pink skin. What seemed obvious to me went unnoticed by the girls who stared at my ball-bag intently after Cantrell stepped away.
‘You’re not going to figure it out just staring at it,’ said the doctor. I looked at her with horror. Was she going to unleash them on my bollocks? She answered with a cruel smile and I gulped. ‘Donna, he’s your patient, you can go first, each of you make up you mind which testicle is twisted and I ask you all at the end.’
The girls nodded and Donna stepped in-between my spread legs and took a ball in each hand. I tensed up as she began to roll them, applying a small amount of pressure here and there. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll be gentle.’ She probed my nuts like this for a whole minute and halfway through I found to my embarrassment that I was actually enjoying the sensation, but Donna didn’t balk when she came face to face with the veiny monster she would have to put in her mouth later, instead, she smiled at it hungrily.
‘Keep behaving yourself and I’ll even swallow,’ she promised tantalisingly. She let my balls go and turned to the doctor. ‘Okay, I think I know,’ she announced.
‘Keep it to yourself,’ Cantrell reiterated.
Leanne stepped up next. Her fingers were crueller that Donna’s delicate digits. It didn’t feel intentional; she just had no idea how to handle a pair of tender plums. What’s worse is that she stabbed her long, fake fingernails into my nut-meat on more than on occasion, each time eliciting a shrill squeal from me a giggle from Melissa and Kelly. She was different from the girls though, she was soft and warm and, apart from Donna, seemed to be the only one not intent of torturing my bollocks. And physically, next to the super model slim of Donna, the flat-chested athleticism of Melissa and the slender curves of Kelly, she was different. In a room full of tight little bums and B-cups, her full, round rear and heavy, big tits were a refreshing change of scenery.
After a minute of torture Leanne still seemed unsure and feeling the pressure to make a decision she simply did eeny meeny miney mo. Next came Melissa and somehow I knew she wouldn’t be using a nursery rhyme to decide. She snatched up my nuts like she was answering a ringing phone and pulled them close to her face without bending even slightly to meet them halfway. I was forced to lift my arse up off the bed in order not to have them ripped off. She examined the tightly squeezed orbs closely through my scrotum which was now shrink-wrapped around them.
Bright spots were filling my vision by the time she let me go unexpectedly. I slammed back down into the stirrups and let my stretched scrotum was entertain the girls whilst I recovered; they were giggling and pointing as it flopped around by my arse hole before rapidly began to shrivel. When my vision returned I could see Donna was watching my rolling nuts with innocent awe. That girl is so naïve, I thought to myself, before suddenly my vision went spotty once more.
Melissa wasn’t done. She caught my plums before they could retreat too far and jabbed her thumb deep into the rubbery front of my right nut. I screamed and bucked and she released me, allowing me a generous second to recover before sinking her other thumb into what should have been the front of my left nut; her cruel digit sunk into the tender meat at the back of my twisted nut. This time I didn’t just scream, I literally sang soprano. I didn’t just buck, my entire body spasmed wildly and uncontrollably. This seemed to confirm Melissa’s suspicions. She grinned confidently and turned away; stopping only to give a parting flick to my nut-sack that sent it swinging side to side like some fleshy novelty decoration.
I was still retching and hyperventilating when the redheaded ‘joker’ stepped up. Strangely her giggles were gone. The mischievous glint in her eye was replaced by a look of apprehension when she regarded my reddening globes.
‘Can I have some gloves?’ she asked. Cantrell rolled her eyes.
‘No, Kelly, you need all your tactile capacity; this is a very delicate examination and it’s not like there are any bodily fluids to worry about.’
‘Not unless she squeezes too hard,’ quipped Melissa to Leanne, Cantrell and even Donna’s amusement.
Kelly took a deep breath. I watched her pale bosom swell. Kelly, it has to be said, was a beauty; flame red hair, emerald green eyes and porcelain skin with the faintest of freckles on her cheeks and nose; she was slim yet had curves in all the right places. As far as I could see, she was a boob job away from being perfect lad’s mag material, not that her tits were unimpressive. They rose over the top of her scoop neck like uncooked bread rolls – all soft and doughy… So in awe of those tits was I that I almost missed Kelly’s examination – it all happened so quickly. One moment she was stood there eyeing me timidly, the next she was by the sink scrubbing her hands and I was in unimaginable amounts of pain.
‘What did she do?’ I found myself asking in a high-pitched squeal. Donna’s hand went quickly to her mouth and I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or grimacing beneath.
‘That was gross!’ cried Kelly, pouring more soap into her palms. ‘They’re all squishy!’
‘Is that it?’ asked Cantrell, her eyebrow raised. ‘That’s your examination?’
I fell back into my pillow and just groaned as the awful pain washed over me, robbing me of any fight I had left. I just wanted to fall asleep, or pass out, I didn’t care which – I just wanted to be unconscious.
‘I’m not touching them again,’ I heard Kelly say.
‘You didn’t touch them that time – you just clamped your callipers around them!’
This, however, did make me look up out of my pillow. I blinked away the tears and looked down at my nuts to see them crushed together and skewered on either side, distorted into the shape of kidney beans by the pincer-like arms of a cruel measuring device.
‘Donna, take the callipers off his gonads would you please,’ asked Cantrell, shaking her head. Donna took her hand away from her mouth and I could see she was biting here bottom lip.
‘Are you…okay?’ she asked with a grimace.
‘Take them off,’ I squeaked. ‘Please take them…off my…balls.’
‘Did he say he wants you to take his balls off?’ asked Melissa with a devilish grin. I shook my head furiously.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Donna. ‘I think he just wants me to take the callipers off.’ I nodded, unable to speak anymore. Donna took hold of the curved instrument and loosened the pincers until my nuts swelled back out to their proper shape, albeit with dark purple spots on either side where the callipers had sunk in deepest. ‘That must have hurt,’ said Donna, when the device finally let go its agonising grip. I felt like saying, ‘No shit.’ but it wasn’t her fault she was so dim sometimes – it was in her nature to be so blonde, and it was one of the things that made her so attractive to me.
‘Right, forget that,’ said Doctor Cantrell, returning from her words with Kelly. ‘I can’t even remember which testicles I turned backwards now. So instead I’ll show you the other form of torsion.’ She took hold of my nuts and twisted them around each other with one swift, surgical movement.
‘Now you girls practice untwisting them…and I’ll give you a hint: it feels easier to untwist them than to twist the more, so try both ways.’
I find it difficult to recall what happened next as I quickly passed out. What I do remember is waking up to find Cantrell frustrately fiddling with my nuts like knotted string, all the while cursing the girls for their ineptitude.
‘I swear, only Donna wanted to twist them the right way; you girls lose another credit.’
I heard more moans of resentment.
‘I’m not even sure if I dare show you girls the last procedure.’
‘Oh, please, Doctor,’ begged Donna.
‘Okay… for you, Donna. Testicle retrieval is required when a testis gets knocked up into the inguinal canal; a small gap in the muscles of the abdomen from where the testicles descended after birth. Sometimes a man can push them out himself, but more often than not medical help is needed.’ She turned to me, or rather my junk.
‘Now I’m going to push one of the patient’s testes up into the abdomen…’ she grasped my nuts and looked at me sternly. I was smart enough not to fight it and with a speedy push I felt my nut suddenly enveloped. ‘See, painless - it’s a party trick of mine.’
‘Party trick?’ asked Kelly, suddenly interested.
‘Yeah,’ said Cantrell, obvious spying an opportunity to get Kelly turned on to touching bollocks. ‘Just pop his other testis up inside him and I’ll show you the trick.’
Kelly looked unsure for a few moments, but then jumped forward giddily. ‘So I just…?’ She slammed her palm upward into my half-filled sack.
‘No, no,’ said Cantrell ignoring my yelp. ‘Put your thumb underneath and push up until you feel the testis pop into the hole.’
‘Okay…’ Kelly took my right nut tentatively between her middle and forefinger and placed her thumb against it, dead centre. Her gaze panned slowly upward from my nut until it met my own. I gulped. With a tremendous push she jammed my ball into its hidey-hole further than it had ever gone before. She pushed it with such force that her thumb followed it in and crushed it against the back wall.
‘Ew!’ she shrieked, pulling out her thumb with a pop. She stood there flapping her hands in disgust whilst I strained against my bonds in an attempt to reach the nut that seemed to still be being crushed, only know by my own body.
‘Okay,’ said Kelly, calming. ‘What’s the party trick?’
‘Isn’t that obvious?’ asked Cantrell.
The girls looked to one another, puzzled. Cantrell grinned, enjoying their bewilderment and then she pulled back her fist and sent it crashing into my empty scrotum with a smack! I tensed for a second before the realisation that the blinding pain I expected had not hit me.
‘Ta-dah,’ said Cantrell as I looked around confused.
Kelly’s eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘That. Is. Amazing!’ she panted. She balled up her fist and sent it crashing into my floppy sac. Again I tensed instinctively, and again the pain didn’t come. Sure, it hurt, but my body and brain were all queued up for the full-blow agony that a shot to that area would usually deliver. Even I was amazed. This was great, if only it didn’t feel like my right nut was in a vice I would have happily lived the rest of my life with them up there, out of harms way.
‘Of course,’ said Dr. Cantrell, ‘if the testicles remain inside too long it will leave him sterile.’
Shit! I thought. ‘Get them out!’ I pleaded. ‘My right one feels like it’s about to pop!’
‘Oh,’ said Cantrell, gravely. ‘I thought she pushed it up with a little too much vigour.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Donna.
Turning away from me, Cantrell addressed the girls. ‘I think Kelly pushed his testis into the far recess of the inguinal canal and now it’s swelling. There are only two ways to get it out: surgery or…’
‘Or what?’ urged Donna, her eyebrows drawn upwards with worry.
‘Suction,’ said Cantrell simply, though judging by the look she gave Donna, the word had deeper meaning.
‘I’ll fetch the Hoover,’ said Kelly, clapping her hands.
‘No you won’t,’ said Cantrell. ‘This requires a much more measured sort of suction, which is why Donna will help me perform the retrieval.’ This made me and the other girls raise an eyebrow. ‘You girls go wash your hands and wait in the lobby.’ The girls looked at one another, hurt by their teacher’s dismissal.
‘We don’t even get to watch?’ asked Rebecca with indignation.
‘No, you’ve done enough for one day… although…’ The girls stared at her hopefully. ‘I do need you to go to the pharmacy and sort out some painkillers for the patient.’
Furious, the girls huffed and stormed out of the room. My spirits lifted as with their departure the chance of my castration was diminished considerably.
‘You are comfortable assisting me in the retrieval, aren’t you Donna?’
‘Of course,’ said Donna uneasily. ‘Just how exactly will I be assisting you?’
Cantrell smiled warmly. ‘Donna, I don’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t help but overhear how you intend to repay this young man and there is word around the campus of your considerable, oh, how do I put this… oral talents?’
Donna gasped in horror and turned immediately bright red.
‘Donna,’ said the doctor, placing a comforting hand on her pupils arm. ‘There really is no need to be embarrassed. You skills are just what this procedure requires.’
Donna raised her eyebrows still unsure as to whether she was being teased. ‘Really?’ she asked. ‘You want me to… suck his dick?’
Looking slightly awkward, Doctor Cantrell said, ‘Not his dick, exactly.’ She glanced down at my pathetic, wrinkled sac.
‘Oh,’ said Donna, only very slight perturbed by the prospect. ‘Okay.’
My heart skipped a beat, but I’m not sure whether with joy or trepidation.
‘Great,’ said Cantrell with a smile. ‘You really are my star pupil.’
Donna glowed with pride as she lowered herself onto her knees before me and proceeded to take my entire ball-bag into her hot, wet mouth. It would have felt fantastic… if only my balls had been inside to enjoy it too.
‘Don’t start sucking just yet,’ said the doctor. ‘It’s important we combine the suction with steady pressure on his groin.’ Then without warning she grabbed the bottom of her doctor’s coat and began to draw it up her thighs at such as speed that it seemed impossible she would stop in time to save exposing her flaps, but, just after the coat had passed the top of her suspenders she stopped and her blushes were spared by mere millimetres.
How this helped put pressure on my groin was beyond me, but I wasn’t about to complain, especially when she then climbed up onto the bed and threw her leg out over me to straddle my groin. With her ass facing me (the bottommost curve of her peachy cheeks left exposed by the hitched coat), I tried to work my head deeper into the pillow in the hopes of catching a glimpse of some of Cantrell’s pink, but as a slither of pouting flesh came into sight she suddenly slammed her pussy down into my groin.
I could feel instantly that she wasn’t wearing any panties and not only that – she was soaking wet with juices. A little slower to register was the nauseating pain which grew from my nuts – flattened within my groin beneath the weight of her grinding cunt.
Despite this I was aware that my cock was on the rise once more, no doubt rising like a snake from its basket before Donna’s eyes, and it only stiffened further as Cantrell began to methodically slide back and forth on her juice-slicked pussy, bearing down on my trapped balls with her pelvic bone.
‘Okay, now suck,’ she told Donna, and, dutifully, her star pupil began in earnest: drawing my empty ball-bag deep into her mouth like a pro. Cantrell continued to slowly ride my groin; her ass gripping my skin with every roll of her hips, out of sight beneath her white coat.
I could see nothing, but the sounds and sensations were incredible: Donna’s powerful slurps were invariable followed by desperate, almost orgasmic gasps for air, whilst Cantrell’s pubic hairs rustled noisily as they rubbed up against my cock, pressed vertical against her shifting bush. The sensation would have been divine had it not been for the inescapable fact that Cantrell’s weight was crushing my poor, trapped bollocks. However, it wasn’t long before their slurps and grinds fell in to sync and my torment was lessened considerably: my looser left nut slipped free and launched itself into the back of Donna’s throat with gleeful abandon.
I heard her gag, but I was too busy enjoying the good doctor’s dry humping to care, and when Cantrell commanded her, breathlessly, not to stop, I was in full agreement.
Donna complied without protest despite the fact that Cantrell’s thrusts were coming so hard that her pussy was drumming my cock against Donna’s forehead with loud, rhythmic slaps. I felt her tongue slide underneath my sac and draw it back inside her hot mouth, and with her back at my sac, it was only a matter of time before my trapped right nut dislodged. Or so I thought.
‘It’s too big,’ Donna burbled; her mouth full and no doubt tired after a solid minute of sucking. ‘It won’t budge!’
‘Keep sucking!’ moaned Cantrell, her thrusts coming faster and more urgent until she was simply mashing my stiff prick into Donna’s face with little regard as I myself struggled desperately not to blow my load over the pair of them.
‘Oh, my god!’ my brain screamed suddenly. ‘What if I did blow my load? All over Cantrell – what would she do?’ My eyes opened and darted around the room counting at least ten implements she could cut my balls off with and many more she could use to end them in more interesting ways.
I tensed my arse cheeks (it was the only way I knew how to fight the growing urge to empty my plums) which must have caught Donna’s attention because before I knew it she had jammed an unkind finger up my ring-piece in (what I can only assume was) a helpful gesture to speed the retrieval of my testicle.
Suddenly and shockingly, I lost all self-control.
My left ball, rolling around Donna’s warm mouth, lapped and caressed by her soft tongue, pumped abruptly and violently, and somewhere within me my right nut did the same, and within seconds an unstoppable swell surged up my rock-solid dick to blast skyward into infinity.
My cock twitched and leapt, bouncing rhythmically between Donna’s sweating brow and Cantrell’s tickly bush, and every squirt required another intense and increasingly painful pump from my balls until it began to feel like the delicate orbs were turning themselves inside out.
Agony gripped me causing every muscle in my body to tense. My dick sent up a final, pitiful squirt which signalled its complete and absolute surrender before it collapsed onto Donna’s forehead to draw a sticky line down her face as it deflated, yet despite this final indignity, Donna gave one last suck which had my emptied right bollock slipping out onto her wearily tongue. I felt her pull away, leaving my balls suddenly cold.
I heard her gasp of relief over Cantrell’s fading groans: ‘They’re both out.’
‘Yes,’ said the doctor with what sounded like bitter disappointment. Her grinding slowed and abruptly she dismounted me. Quickly, but carefully she unbuttoned her white coat, which was spattered all up the front with lashings of my goo, and let it fall to the ground.
Despite the crippling pain, my teeth unclenched for long enough to let my jaw drop: she had a smoking hot body which the doctor’s coat had done a grand job of hiding, but standing there in her black micro skirt and blood red, plunging V-neck there was no overlooking her long, stockinged legs and full, buoyant tits. My cock twitched instinctively causing another pang of agony to rise from within my tortured balls. She noticed my pained groan and gave me a look of distain.
‘Lesson’s over,’ she said: a woman robbed of an orgasm. ‘Get him out of here.’
Looking confused and upset, Donna nodded and I noticed the fat globs of spunk which matted her beautiful blonde fringe and dribbled lazily down her brow. She looked about herself franticly. ‘I’ll need a wheelchair,’ she announced, before dashing off to find one.
With her gone, Dr. Cantrell walked over to one of the anatomy models and tore off its big rubber penis. Weighing it in her hand she gave a satisfied shrug and turned back to me.
‘I suppose I will have to make do with this,’ she said walking back over to where I lie, mewling, too weak to even clutch my unbearably aching nuts. She wagged the prosthetic prick and continued: ‘Seeing as how you “real” men can’t last five minutes with out either spunking up or passing out…’ a faint smile crossed her lips as she added: ‘…or both.’ I felt her fingers brush by my flaccid dick on their way to where my massively swollen plums hung, throbbing with the pain of a thousand busts.
Her cold digits scooped the pair up and for a brief moment she waited; watching me closely for any signs of protest, but I could only started at her beseechingly, and seeing that I was utterly, pathetically subdued, she gave a wicked chuckle and clenched her fist; wringing out the last remaining juices from my poor, pink fruit.
The pain was more than I could bear.
When I came to I was in a wheelchair, back in a gown and with my clothes piled carefully on my lap. The pain was upon me at once and instinct caused me to pull my legs together. My thighs met the bloated meat of my nuts unexpectedly soon and I was too slow to stop them forcing my cross-eyes. My head lolled back and I let out an awful groan which must have caught Donna’s attention because when my vision returned she was looking down at me, her forehead creased with the concern of an angel.
‘Don’t worry,’ she comforted me. ‘When we get back home I’m gonna take good care of you.’ Her smile vanished suddenly as hurried footsteps chased us down the hall.
‘Wait, Donna,’ called Kelly, breathlessly.
The chair stopped abruptly and out of sight behind me Donna snapped, ‘What is it, Kelly? I’m not in the mood—’
‘You forgot his… Ew. What’s that in your hair? It looks like—’ I winced.
‘His what?’ Donna interrupted, tersely.
‘His painkillers. It’s okay – I’ll give them him.’ I felt my nose pinched and a small pill be tossed into my mouth, then Kelly’s lightly-freckled face was right in front of my own. An involuntarily gulp of fear caused me to swallow the pill. Seeing this, Kelly beamed a mischievous grin at me.
‘Good boy,’ she clucked and, after teasing me with a blown kiss, she vanished in a whirl of red hair.
The wheelchair began to move once more and in the distance I heard the three girls, Kelly, Leanne and Melissa coo, ‘See you again soo-oon!’ before bursting into giggles.
Back in my room, Donna tipped the wheelchair and deposited me face-first onto the bed. I lay across it widthways with my legs hanging over the side and became aware, from the cool breeze on my arse, that the back of my gown had come open. Suddenly a warm pair of hands seized my aching plums.
‘It’s amazing how big they’ve got,’ Donna swooned, as, despite her gentle touch, I tensed instinctively.
‘Oh! Sorry!’ she gasped on noticing my legs flail and bum-cheeks clench swiftly. She released my heavy low-hangers, letting them swing into the bed frame with a splat, adding hurriedly, ‘Amazing from a medical point of view, I meant… I’m sure they’re very painful.’
‘No shit,’ I squeaked into my mattress. But Donna was oblivious.
For a long time she hovered, wordlessly, over my “medically amazing” gonads and watched them do as they always did: squirm, rise and roll beneath the thin, wrinkled skin of my sac; never at ease, never relaxed. For such a testicle-obsessed female, the way my nuts eternally jostled one another for a safer spot must have made for a highly entertaining show. Donna remained engrossed in their futile skirmish for far longer than I felt comfortable with.
Not that I had the strength to be indignant; not after the indignities I’d already suffered. So, with a defeated sigh, I let my legs flop lifelessly to the floor and subjected myself to yet another examination of my most intimate parts.
Finally though, as I was actually drifting off, she caught herself staring and stood quickly and apologetically.
‘I should probably let you get some sleep,’ she said, shocking me back into awful realm of consciousness. ‘I want you all rested for when I come back later…’ she leaned over me and whispered into my ear, ‘…naked and eager to suck your cock.’
She stood back and waited for a reaction, and, incredibly, my prick didn’t disappoint; swelling at an awkward downward angle to strain painfully against the bed as it grew ferociously inflexible.
As my erection did its best to lift me into the air, I cursed my super-human libido. Its response seemed to please Donna though; with a skip in her step, and no doubt licking her lips as she had before, she withdrew.
Within seconds I was fast sleep.
I was roused what felt like mere minutes later by a playful rap at the door. I groaned into my mattress; the filthy slut couldn’t wait five minutes for my cock in her mouth.
‘It’s open,’ I called groggily, without lifting my head. I heard the door creak open and the shuffling of feet. Then there was silence. I knew Donna would be waiting for me to turn to look at her; she would want to see my reaction to whatever scraps of material she was only barely wearing. Still, I kept my head down and paid her no attention.
‘Donna… I’m still really not up to it yet,’ I said weakly.
She didn’t respond. She must have thought I was turning her down and this made me suddenly panicked; with her body and morals, chances are she had never been rejected in her life and I’d just gone and done it whilst presenting her two tender, dangling bull-eyes.
‘It’s not that I don’t want it,’ I added hastily; turning my head to see the blonde’s reaction, only to find the blonde standing at the door wasn’t Donna. But I recognised her instantly.
‘Leanne?’ I squeaked, instantly entranced by the awesome cleavage created where her back-breakingly heavy hooters met and flattened out against one another. ‘Why are you here?’
Leanne looked at me sadly and said, ‘I really needed to ace that class.’
‘We all did,’ added a cold voice directly behind me.
With a squeal of panic I rolled over onto my back only for my inexplicably hard cock to spring up and smack me solidly in the stomach whilst throwing my balls up into the air in the process. I found myself lying before Melissa and Kelly, both of whom were hysterical at the spectacular appearance of my genitals.
‘I see the little blue pill I gave you worked,’ shrieked Kelly; one hand pointing at my flopping goods, the other covering her smirk.
‘Oh my god!’ I gulped. ‘What do you want?’
Melissa stopped laughing immediately and cocked her head at me, her expression turning to a scowl. ‘We want our credits.’
‘You, you can’t,’ I stammered. ‘It’s too late – the class is over.’
‘Yes, but there’s one procedure we didn’t get to try,’ said Kelly, her eyes bulging hungrily as she stared at my massive plums.
My heart sank as I asked fearfully, ‘Which?’
Melissa grinned as she proclaimed, ‘We need to fix your nuts.’
‘Fix?’ I croaked. ‘But my nuts aren’t—’
‘Broken?’ cracked Melissa, as she stomped my slack, bloated sac into the bed frame.
The pain was immense. There was no detail to it. I couldn’t tell if it came from my left nut or right, or both. It was a flat, excruciating agony and as I jerked my legs up and rolled onto my back a terrible feeling in my stomach told me it was all over. But my instinctive searching hands told my otherwise: finding two frighteningly oversized orbs to cup. Each bollock filled one of my palms.
‘Not yet they’re not.’ said Melissa with a grin. ‘Tie him up, girls.’
Kelly rushed forward and grabbed my legs, spinning me around on the bed so she could tie my ankles to the bedposts. Leanne, who took hold of my wrists, was less enthusiastic. She struggled at first to wrestle my hands from around my plums, but it wasn’t until she tried to pry my fingers away and accidentally stabbed each ball with her long nails that I released them with a squeal and she was able to bind me.
They used cotton scarves which were soft, but strong. Out of the same bag they had appeared, Melissa retrieved a heavy medial book and opened it up about halfway at a marked page.
‘Now, let’s begin.’
‘No,’ I begged, whilst writhing about on the covers. ‘Please.’
Melissa pouted mockingly. ‘Oh, I do love it when they beg,’ she told Leanne, who smiled back uncomfortably, before tossing her a roll of duct tape from the bag.
‘Shut him up,’ she said abruptly hostile. Biting her bottom lip apologetically, Leanne tore a strip from a roll of duct tape and pressed it across my mouth.
Kelly was jumping around on the bed between my legs; her Nike-clad feet pounding the mattress in random proximity to my sagging balls. ‘You’re lucky, you know,’ she said; the toe of her trainer setting down close enough to pinch the skin of my ball-bag.
Lucky? I thought as I let out a panicked yelp. A single misplaced bounce and my blessings would be reduced considerably. Putting to one side the immediate danger from bouncing babe, I had just been threatened with castration by three girls proven highly capable: there could be no aspect of my situation that was in any way fortunate. But then Kelly enlightened me.
‘We wanted to pop both your nuts,’ she said, as her doughy tits skipped beneath her shirt, ‘but Leanne won’t let us, because she fancies you.’
Leanne snorted with dismay. ‘No, I don’t.’ She crossed her arms around those gigantic jugs of hers. The hand gripping the roll of tape was white-knuckled; I got the distinct impression she was resisting the urge to muzzle Kelly.
The bouncing redhead dropped suddenly to her knees and greedily scooped up my heavy sac. ‘At least I get to choose which one we pop,’ she said, eyeing them hungrily.
The sight of her weighing my precious jewels as if selecting grapefruit sent me into hysterics. I screamed and blubbered into the duct tape as she continued to test their ripeness with probing squeezes.
Leanne took pity; leaning in to whisper earnestly, ‘It’s just a little nut. You won’t miss it too much.’
I was so shocked by her blinding incomprehension that I fell silent and stared at her until Kelly made an important announcement.
‘I choose… this one,’ she said, dropping my smaller right nut to hold my left aloft as high as my stretched scrotum would allow.
‘Good choice,’ purred Melissa, scrutinizing the unfortunate orb. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and make sure the other one doesn’t get in the way? We wouldn’t want any harm coming to it, now would we?’ She gave Kelly a devilish wink.
Seeing this caused Kelly’s eyes to sparkle with delight and when she snatched up my right nut, pressed it into my crotch and drew back her fist, I understood why: despite the fact my bollock was three times its usual size, she was about to try and knock it inside me as she had during that morning’s examination.
I shook my head frantically and screamed incomprehensibly into my gag, but her fist smashed my plum flat across my pelvis mercilessly. With every punch her knuckles sunk deeper into my nut-meat and several strikes in I found myself squealing higher than I had before my balls dropped or since.
Cradling the open book in her arms, Melissa leaned in to coo in my ear, ‘Oo-oo! I can’t imagine how that must feel.’
I wanted so badly to enlighten her.
After countless punches, the overwhelming pain sent my brain into standby mode, yet Kelly’s mocking laughter still permeated my dim consciousness.
Noticing my crossed eyes, Leanne cried, ‘He’s blacking out.’
‘Stop,’ Melissa ordered.
‘But it won’t go in,’ complained Kelly.
‘Well, we tried,’ said Melissa with a shrug.
Kelly huffed, levelling a frustrated slap at my nuts. The change in pain from deep and solid to sharp and stinging brought me back round just in time to hear Melissa say, ‘Looks like we’ll just have to pop both.’
‘Both?’ gasped Leanne. ‘We agreed one.’
‘Come on, Leanne,’ pleaded Kelly. ‘It means one more to fix – Doctor Cantrell will give us double credits for sure.’
Leanne looked uncertainly between Kelly, Melissa and me. ‘And you’re sure we can fix them?’ Melissa nodded solemnly. ‘It just wouldn’t feel right if we left him nutless.’
‘Oh, he won’t be left nutless…’ promised Melissa, ‘…they might be mostly ornamental, but he’ll still have something to get grabbed by at clubs.’
This seemed to alleviate Leanne’s fears. She nodded her timid approval.
‘Yippee!’ cheered Kelly, clapping excitedly.
‘So does that book tell you… how to do it?’ asked Leanne, not relishing the notion.
‘Nope,’ said Melissa. ‘This book is how we are going to do it.’ She slammed it shut to illustrate. The heavy thud echoed around the room. She opened it once more to the middle and sent it down on the bed between my legs. With cold, clinical technique, she ran her index finger under my lengthy scrotum and slid it down towards my balls, lifting them over the open book before withdrawing her finger to let them drop onto the awaiting pages.
‘Any last requests?’ she asked, then pretending not to notice the tape over my mouth said: ‘Nothing? Oh, well.’
‘I know what he’d like,’ said Leanne, and, cheerlessly, she gripped the plunging neck of her top and began to pull it out and down over her seemingly never-ending swells of smooth, pale tit-flesh. It felt like an eternity before the two large, pink circles I’d been waiting for were revealed, but when they were, the remaining underboob simply spilled out after it. She hooked the fabric under the improbably magnitude of her fantastic jugs and let it go, and astoundingly, the elastic managed to heave those mighty norks up high and hold them aloft, squashed together with big nipples pointing straight ahead.
It would have taken something pretty exceptional to wrestle my eyes off those soft, tasty teats: Melissa and Kelly taking up positions around my doomed danglers was enough to grab my attention; each took hold of a hardback cover, between which were nestled my jewels, and both steadied themselves and looked to one another with beaming grins.
But just as I was awing at the eagerness on their faces, I was awed in the positive sense when Leanne climbed on top and engulfed my entire head with her rack. And yet, even buried under a few pounds of doughy tit-flesh, I could still hear Melissa and Kelly giggling as they performed a test run, closing the book around my bloated nuts until it pinched them viciously and caused me to issue a muffled yelp.
And then I heard the countdown and knew the next time the book would close it would be for real.
‘Three,’ came the sing-song voices of the two girls holding the fate of my testicles in their hands.
Leanne’s cleavage parted and she peered in to assure me: ‘I promise we’ll fix them.’
I was in no way comforted.
There came a crunch so crisp that, for a blissful moment afterward, I was convinced it had all been a prank and that at the last minute they had slipped my bollocks out of the book and replaced them with walnuts for comic effect. But Leanne was still peering in at me and when I noticed her brow, furrowed with incomprehension at my lack of reaction, I slowly accepted the sickening truth: that it wasn’t a joke at all.
Little by little the pain seeped from between the pages of the book and slow but surely I assumed the obligatory position; Leanne watched with fascination as my lips pursed, my face scrunched and my eyes crossed. And at that moment I heard something unexpected escape her lips: a giggle.
I’d like to say it hurt more than the nut-crushing, but it didn’t come close, as a black hole of agony had opened up in the spot where my testicles had once been and my world had begun to collapse in around it. The only thing to escape its powerful draw was the pain: a lightning bolt of which coursed though my body and forced a violent convulsion that, in a fantastic piece of poetic justice, saw me rear up deliver a solid head-butt to Leanne’s pendulous pillows. The fleshy slap sent her reeling backwards, impacted melons flapping after her, to topple the other girls like bowling pins.
The bed creaked and groaned as it struggled to hold my straining limbs, and the three girls could only watch with a mixture of horror and awe, as it looked likely that I might actually break free of my bonds, despite crushed nuts.
It was the first time either Melissa or Kelly had ever really focused on my face, and it felt good to se a little fear in their eyes for once, but their attention was soon drawn groinward once more, when the pages of the book between my legs began to peel slowly apart.
My own attention was also captured by the separating pages, though not out of the same morbid curiosity as the girls: with every millimetre the book parted, it became more dreadfully apparent that the structural integrity of my nuts had been severely compromised.
And, though the girls’ eyes were locked on the unfolding spectacle with rabid anticipation, I couldn’t bring myself to witness the aftermath of my castration. Instead, I collapsed back onto my pillow, feeling the excruciating pinpoint of agony melt into a debilitating swell of self-pity and nausea, and simply lay there; waiting for the inevitable: for the book to fall completely open and my ruined manhood to be laid bare. Only when it came, the reaction wasn’t quite what I expected.
‘What the fuck?’ cried Melissa, in a sudden burst of confounded rage.
My heart skipped a beat.
It took a long moment, but just as I felt I would explode with suspense, a quite bewildered Leanne announced, ‘They look… fine.’
If my legs weren’t bound and crippled by pain, I could have done a jig.
‘But the crunch,’ said Kelly in a despairing whisper.
My own gasped breaths aside, there was hushed silence for a time, and then I felt the familiar sensation of Leanne’s long fake fingernail sinking into my nut, only this time, it offered no rubbery resistance and her nail sunk in deep to stab the very core of my nerve cluster. She recoiled with a nervous yelp and shielded her smarting melons as I bucked and strained once more.
When I fell back, exhausted, she timidly reported, ‘They felt a bit squishier.’ She looked hopefully to Melissa. ‘That’s good enough, right?’
‘Nowhere near,’ growled Melissa, her eyes smouldering as she started down at the pair of mockingly spherical organs.
She leaned forward to slap my resilient rocks into the centre of a page then slammed the book shut with a squick!
I roared into my gag, but she was nowhere near finished. Standing quickly, she planted her boot on top of the book and growled down at me, ‘Let’s see Cantrell’s precious Donna put these back together.’
‘Melissa!’ gasped Leanne, as the raven-haired bitch bore down on my plums. Catching hold of Melissa’s ankle, Leanne struggled in vain to prise it off the book.
‘Get off her, Leanne!’ snapped Kelly, suddenly irate. She reached around the bouncy blonde and grabbed her by the nipples before cruelly yanking them around and back beneath either armpit.
Over Leanne’s screams the redhead cried, ‘Pop ‘em, Melissa. Crush his fucking gooseberries!’
But Melissa was unable to comply, as she had found herself on the receiving end of Leanne’s deadly fingernails.
Having thrust out her free hand for purchase, Leanne’s fingers had wrapped around Melissa’s right buttock and her nails were now sinking deep into the dark meat between the girl’s ass cheeks.
But all of our screams were silenced when there came a sudden, powerful wrap at the door and a commanding woman’s voice barked, ‘Police!’
Kelly was the first to react; she relinquished Leanne’s throbbing teats and made a dash for the wardrobe beside the door. Melissa was quick to follow; using the book as a springboard she leapt off the bed leaving me bucking with agony and Leanne hugging her stinging nips.
The movement of the door handle snapped her into action. She lunged over me, slapping me solidly in the face with her heavy right melon, and tugged the pillow from under me to then stuff it hastily between my legs in a desperate attempt to conceal the evidence of their visit.
She had just made it past the door when it burst open and caught her solidly in the rear, sending her running tit-first into the back of the wardrobe. As the fleshy splat rang out, Melissa and Kelly pulled the doors silently shut behind her.
The policewoman marched into the room oblivious, and turned to face me. Unable to focus, I gazed cross-eyed at the beautiful vision that had saved my balls from complete destruction, and soaked her up, from police hat to killer stiletto heels.
Stilettos? I thought with sudden dismay. I redoubled my effort to focus and scanned her again.
Police hat: the genuine article, no doubt about it.
White shirt: police issue, but not usually worn unbuttoned to the sternum…
Black microskirt: showed off a little more buttock than seemed professional, but what little of it there was was the right colour at least…
Stockings and suspenders: risqué and a tad impractical, but… Oh, who was I kidding? I was fucked.
The policewoman let out a delighted gasp, and it came as no surprise to me that I recognised it instantly.
‘I did not know you were into bondage,’ said Donna, at the sight of me lying there naked, bound to the bedposts with my dick rigid and ready, and pulsing with veins. I couldn’t have looked any more impatient to receive my repayment.
She pulled a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs from her waistband and said, ‘Guess I won’t be needing these.’ Tossing them aside, she marched towards me with a hungry grin.
My eyes urged her insistently to look toward the wardrobe from inside which my tormentors were watching through the crack between the doors. But Donna’s eyes were locked on something straining much more insistently: my dick.
She gripped its solid shaft and quipped, ‘Guess I didn’t need my truncheon either.’ She slid a huge black dildo from her waistband and, taking the bulging of my eyes as horror, she added, ‘Don’t worry: I was only going to use it if you put up a fight… and even then it was only going to be on myself.’
She giggled and threw the offending implement over her shoulder. It hit the floor heavily and floundered about like a dying fish. I was still transfixed on its rubbery death throes when Donna stepped up onto the bed and stood with hands on hips to proudly boast the fact that she had on no underwear.
‘Oh, and look,’ she said, noticing the pillow stuffed between my legs and pretending not to notice my crotch-high stare, ‘you even put a pillow there for me, how thoughtful. So whilst I’m swallowing down every last drop of your spunk, I’ll have something soft to rest my elbows on.’
Though cunt-struck, I couldn’t help but be perturbed by her last statement; my eyes went wide and I frenziedly shook my head. But there was no stopping her from plummeting to her knees and dropping her forearms down on the pillow.
A muffled pop escaped from beneath the pillow and suddenly my cock began to twitch violently.
‘Oh, my god,’ cried Donna, her mouth inches from my prick. ‘You’re cumming already?’ Then, without further comment, she dutifully impaled herself on my spurting rod; desperate to make good on her promise of swallowing.
As the warm, numbing darkness began to consume me, Donna lifted her head and with full, sloshing cheeks smiled at me, before swallowing the whole, nauseating mouthful.
I passed out.
I came to with a stinging cheek from where Donna had just slapped me. Behind her I spotted Melissa, Kelly and Leanne hurrying out of the wardrobe and, for once, Donna noticed my stare and followed it.
‘Oh, hi, Donna,’ said Melissa, holding the door open as if she had just entered the room. ‘We just came over to apologise for… Is he all right?’
Donna let out a relived sob and rushed to Melissa, hugging her tightly in a flat-chested embrace.
‘Thank god you’re here!’ she cried. ‘I think I just burst his balls and I think… I think I just swallowed the chunks!’ She burst into tears while Melissa and Kelly struggled not to burst into laughter.
‘Don’t worry, Donna,’ said Leanne, genuinely. ‘We can help.’ She squeezed Donna’s shoulder.
‘We should take him to Doctor Cantrell,’ said Kelly, her hand over her mouth to hide her grin. ‘She’ll help us fix his nuts.’ She turned away, unable to keep a straight face any longer.
‘Really?’ asked Donna, hopefully.
‘Yeah,’ said Melissa, covering for her friend. ‘Help us lift him.’
The next thing I knew I was being untied and hauled off the bed. They each took a limb and carried me out of my room.
It wasn’t until we burst through the main doors of my halls of residence and into the chilly evening air that I realised they had neglected to cover or clothe me in any way. Such was Donna’s distress, Melissa and Kelly’s deviousness and Leanne’s subdued compliance that I was not surprised. Nor was I surprised when, rather than transporting me by some lesser-trodden path to the medical centre, they elected instead to cart me through the main thoroughfare, passing the library, where bespectacled babes dropped their books out of embarrassment, the gym, where Lycra-clad camel-toes pouted with disbelief and finally the student bar where things took a turn for the worse.
‘Get out the way,’ I heard Donna cry, as a crowd came rushing out of the bar to gawp at my limp, naked form as it was paraded across the courtyard. And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any more humiliated she added: ‘I’m not joking. This is an emergency – he’s burst his balls!’
At this, the crowd’s reaction was alarming: the men reeled back and a collective groan went up, but the girls: as concerned as they tried to appear, the girls couldn’t hide the telltale smirk that curled their open mouths. Without wanting to appear eager, they pushed their way around to get a better view; their twinkling eyes widening and their faked distress going into over time when they got a good look at my crushed, flapping sac.
‘You heard her,’ cried Melissa. The bitch had suddenly realised she could add to my already immense misery. With as much volume as she could muster she bellowed, ‘Eunuch coming through!’
That word rang in my ears and even Kelly joining in my torment couldn’t make me fell any worse. ‘Can’t you see?’ she shouted, stepping out to the side so that my legs were pulled as wide as they would go. ‘He has no bollocks!’
I closed my eyes and when I opened them next I found Doctor Cantrell starting down at me.
‘Don’t you worry about your poor little ballsies,’ she said. ‘I promise I’ll make sure the girls take good care of them and even if they don’t…’ she dangled two of the saline-filled fake testicles above me and grinned. ‘…Well, there’s always these.’
‘Oh,’ she enthused orgasmically, ‘I do love balls!’