Friday, August 10, 2007

Guess Who Is Coming To Dinner

by nutcracker sweet


"What the...” your prurient reverie is interrupted by the front door bell.


"Dammit! I'm coming...almost", you scramble to tuck yourself back into your sweat pants, stuffing your dribbling erection up under the waist band and covering the bulge with your "State U" tee shirt, clicking the computer from the porn site that you were drooling over to a more innocuous site.


You pull open the door to find a thirty-ish woman on your doorstep. Even though she is wearing dusty boots, faded jeans, and a "Rebel Pride" tee-shirt with a beat up rucksack over one thin shoulder, you find her stunning. But when she smiles and her blue eyes flash, you feel your painful erection stir against its elastic restraints.

"Howdy!" in a voice dripping with honey and magnolia, “You must be the on-line pervert from the Velvet Kick website..." she drawls, pushing past you into the house. When she turns to face you, standing akimbo, you notice the firm set to her lifted jaw and the certain hardness around her eyes.

"Who are you?" you stammer, excited and intrigued. "And what the hell are you doing in my house?"

"Oh, you know who I am," she laughs. "And you know why I'm here." There is a cruel edge to her laughter.

"Look lady, I don't know what's going on, but you have to go!" You point to the door. "My wife is the insanely jealous sort and she'll kill us both if she comes home to find us alone in the house..."

"Not to worry, Needledick," she interrupts you and steps up to grab your balls through the cotton-fleece of your sweats and none too gently either as she drops her ruck to the floor. "Your wife and kids are spending a long weekend down in Mudville County, Florida. Your wife wants to know how to make home-made whiskey..."

At the blank look on your face she squeezes your nuts, lets go, steps back and cocks one eye. "Oh, of course you wouldn't know what your ol' lady's interested in because you don't communicate with her! Well, my uncle is teaching your wife how to run off corn-liquor and don't worry about your kids. My sister Moira is watching after them. She just loves kids!"

Before you can even react I kick you in the nuts. On your way down I knee you in the face and on your way back up I kick you in the balls again! Only harder!

"Come on! Get up! Can't you take a girl?" As you stagger to your feet, I tackle you, jam my hand down your pants, find your rapidly swelling ball-sac, and squeeze for all I'm worth. Squeezing, crushing, and rolling your nuts together, while I hold your head down by the throat!

"How do you like me now?"

Eventually, you pass out from the pain. As I stand up I give your limp body another kick to your balls, just to make sure that you aren't playing 'possum. You awake to find your self shackled spread-eagle to your bed. The pain in your nuts is excruciating. You feel nauseous. As your head clears you see me sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, coolly smokin' a joint and nursing a tumbler of Kentucky sippin' whiskey. I stub out the smoke, put down the glass, and stand up.

Your eyes about pop out of your head: I'm wearing black-leather, crotchless, panties, thigh-high black-leather boots with cockroach killin' toes and four-inch spike heels with silver spurs. Your eyes move up, they widen, and even with aching and swollen testicles your dick twitches. I notice it. I know I'm exciting you with my unruly black mane hanging loose and free over my bare shoulders. My firm breasts adorned only with small silver hoops through their erect nipples. From these hoops a finely braided silver chain runs down my milky white body to attach to another silver hoop in my belly button. I stand akimbo, black velvet gloved hands, on my thin hips. My azure eyes gazing open contempt at you through my Zorro mask. I step to the foot of the bed, and lean between your spread legs. Your lips quiver, your dick dribbles. I slap your nuts with my open hand! It is then that you realize that I've bound your nuts in a four-inch ball stretcher of soft leather. I slap your nuts again! Your body jerks, tears start out of the corner of your eyes; you start to gurgle something...

"Silence!” I sneer, "Always going on about how you want Moira to abuse your precious jewels! Daring her to kick your balls!! You find it amusing to brag that a woman can't hurt your nuts! Well this is your lucky day! Now I'm going to show you what I find amusing!" I yank your nuts and slap 'em again!

"You could beg for mercy and I might leave here letting you keep both of your nuts..."

"Please..." you start, but I cut you off with another slap to your nuts.

"My god!" I laugh, "Are they ever swollen huge! And purple! Like plums, and I'm ready to make some plum pudding!"

Your tears come in earnest now.

Later gators!


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