Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Return to Mudville

By nutcracker sweet


When I got Sniffer's e-mail I called him at his hotel room, and we chatted for awhile. I found him to be charming, witty, and, yes ladies, sensual, so I agreed to meet with him.

After we hung up, I put on a denim skirt and a short black-leather vest under a denim blouse. Believe me; I don't have to worry about pendulous breasts spilling out. I pulled on a pair of my favorite boots. Raked my fingers through my long, black hair, thought about brushing my unruly mane, and decided "fuck it” I don't even bother primping for church.

I then loaded a few precautionary essentials into my purse: 4" ball-stretcher, handcuffs, ball-gag, can of mace, .45-caliber derringer, and a jar of honey. I headed for the door, but turned back to my dressing table, pulled aside the crotch of my black, lacy panties, and slipped my ben-wa balls into place; figuring I'd make the ride much more interesting by driving down railroad tracks.

Off I went to Mudville County.

Upon my arrival at the Dew Drop Inn, I went up to knock on the door to room #666, which should have been my first cue that something was askew. A gruff and garbled voice bade me to enter. I slowly opened the door into a dimly-lit, smoke-filled room, and as I tentatively walked in I was almost overcome by a strong, musky, rancid stench; as if goats had been fucking in the room.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom I saw a beefy, bearded man slouched in an armchair, feet up on a huge ice chest, his big hairy balls hanging out the front of his Spiderman pajamas, a bottle of Zima in one hand, and the other hand holding a paper sack to his snout. On the table in front of him was an overflowing ashtray and a can of ether.

"Sniffer, I presume?"

The beast turned his blood-shot, glazed and crazed eyes to me and grunted an affirmative.

"Well, I must say, you certainly come across a lot classier over the phone and in your posts on the message boards..."

"Don't gimme your shit, you redneck simpleton," he gestured with the rag filled sack, "just get your skinny ass in here! We gotta confab!"

Now I'm getting pissed! "What the fuck is 'confab'?” I snarl, looking over this dungeon, my sense of unease growing stronger as I take in the clothes, other Zima and wine cooler bottles, and Virginia Slim packages that are littering the room.

"Urp! It's a military term for conversation," he belches. Aha! Now I'm on familiar ground, my family is riff with deranged veterans. It's a rite of passage for the guys in our clan.

"You talk tough, you ballbustin' bitch, but now it is time to test your meddle!" I swear his eyes rolled around in his head as he belched again, broke wind, and upended the Zima bottle.

"I'm a bit shocked at your behavior, Sniffer” as I imperceptively remove the ben-wa balls and slip them into my purse, "what about all your lip-service about respecting women and the sanctity of womanhood?"

"BWAHAHAHA!” he guffawed, spewing malt liquor out his nose, "That bullshit? It's just that...Bullshit! Girl, you really are a backwoods moron, don't you know that communicating on the Web is like being a politician? Just tell 'em what they wanna hear!"

I'm considering pulling my piece and blowing off one of his meaty testicles when I'm distracted by muffled noises coming from behind the bathroom door. Sniffer grabs my purse, and bellows, "Get 'er, boys!" The bathroom door is yanked open and ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen muscled high school wrestlers charge out and surround me! Uh Oh!

I know, ladies, sounds like a fantasy come true to be in the midst of all that young, sweaty, man-flesh clad only in Speedos. But not under these circumstances. These guys were sporting the Mudville High Trojans embossed on their crotches, and Mudville High is the county's home for wayward shepherd-boys! So whatever Sniffer was up to had to be a twisted, diabolical plot!

Like a trapped animal, I attacked! Oh boy, did I fight! My ancestral Highland warriors would have been proud of me! But, alas, to no avail. I was overpowered by sheer numbers, and pinned against the wall.

Sniffer lurched out of the chair, staggered over to me saying, "This is how it is going to play out, missy” his fetid breath reminded me of my uncle's auto body shop, "first, the bare-assed spankings..."

It was time for me to concede that I might be in some real trouble here. I doubt that I could survive being beaten by fifteen strapping lads. Well, fourteen strapping lads, and one burnt-out, middle-aged degenerate.

"THEN THE ORAL SEX!!” he hollers to the heavens.

This is where I draw the line, "Ye might as well kill me now, fiend, for I'll not be sucking any of y'all's..."

"After you've given us the privilege of being spanked by your exquisite li'l hand, and the even greater honor of paying oral homage to your regal womanhood, we will line up to receive your dainty foot kicked into our cum-laden balls!"

Wow! Talk about the tables turning!

"But, Sniffer, all that spankin' and ballkickin' is an awful lot of work for little ol' me” I snip, shaking off the boys and pushing passed Sniffer to the phone, "I'm callin' for help!"

"NO! I'll not have a bunch of your drunken friends from the Grange in here!"

"Not a bunch, just three” I retort, my eyes hungrily devouring the teenage bulges before me, "the Three Psychos of Eastwick."

"AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" At the mere mention of the name of my emasculating sister and her two criminally deranged ex-cellmates, Sniffer grabbed his precious jewels in one hand, his can of ether in the other, and ran shrieking from the room!

I bolted to the door. "Come back here!” I shout at his rapidly retreating back, "Geez, wait until Lisa finds out what a chicken-shit she's married to..." Oh well, I turn back to find the Mudville Trojans shuffling around and picking up their clothes.

"Not so fast, boys, how many of you are eighteen, or older?"

Half of them raise their hands.

"Good. Drop your clothes and have a seat on the bed,” I leer at them, "the rest of you get the hell out of here!"

I toss 'em a twenty. "Go on down to Carvel and get yourselves a lollapalooza on Miss Sweet."

I turn back to the seven expectant hard-ons seated on the bed, "Now, I do recall y'all mentioned two of my favorite things: cunnilingus and ballkicking!"

Now, if y'all think that I spent the rest of the afternoon engaged in tawdry sex and testicle torture with seven nubile young men, you're wrong! Because I went ahead and rented the room for two more days and we played out our version of "Snow White" throughout the weekend!

They walked into that room as confused boys, but they walked out, bowlegged, as even more confused men. But I reckon that there will be at least seven very happy, very satiated young ladies come prom night!

Enjoy! More to come.

Nutcracker sweet

PS: Sniffer, I still have your cooler if you want to come and get it.

PPS: Zima sucks!


It was a most intriguing telephone conversation.

Having made arrangements to meet up again, I was looking forward to seeing Sniffer. He talks a good game, so I was curious to see just how much he could handle of having his bells rung.

It was the day before our rendezvous and I wanted to make things a little special. I loaded a few choice items into the "tool kit” tossed it into the back of my vehicle, and headed over to Mudville where I was able to secure room #666 at the Dew Drop Inn.

I spent the better part of the afternoon, tidying up and prepping the room for our upcoming debacle then I headed back to my hometown tavern to meet up with my cohorts to discuss the morrow's festivities over some billiards and beer. Of course we all ended up stinkin' drunk, which was fine by me because I wanted to be at my most orneriest in the morning.

Ooops! I reckon that I neglected to tell Sniffer that I wasn't going to be the only one to meet with him. I'm bringing along my sister, Fionna, and her two insane friends, Laraye and Becky; as well as our cousin, Simone, and... well, a couple of surprises too! But what the hell? I'm sure Sniffer will be delighted to be the guest of honor at a ballbusting party for a bunch of horny women. Come morning we loaded my "li'l piggy” hog-tied for ease of transportation, into the back of Fionna's truck, and then we all piled in for the drive over to Mudville where they dropped me off at the Inn, and went on to pick up the last of our party.

When in doubt I stick with what I know: leather crotchless panties, leather boots with silver spurs (big Mexican rowels), leather vest, velvet gloves, and a satin mask; all in black. I finished it off with garish red lipstick and fingernail polish. Guys seem to find this look a turn-on. We'll see just how sexy Sniffer finds it when I dig my bright red nails into his balls and yank 'em around!

I lit some candles, cracked open a beer, and was just starting to warm myself up in anticipation, when I was interrupted from my prurient revelry by a knocking, as if of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. I snapped my panties back into place and rose to answer the door.

Because I was expecting the unwashed, unkempt, unshaven, drug-addled troglodyte of our last meeting I was taken aback upon opening the door to an immaculately groomed, coiffed, and cologned dandy. I only realized it was Sniffer when I saw that not only did this guy have his manly cluster hanging out the zipper of his neatly pressed chinos, but that his "little soldier" was standing at attention.

"Howdy, Nutcracker!” he beamed, extending his hand in greeting.

Hm, might as well get right to it, I thought as I reached passed his hand to grab his exposed testicles, "Get in here, you lovable pervert!" We engaged in small talk, laughed over our first encounter, and I pointed out his cooler that I brought back; loaded with ice, beer, bourbon, but no Zima! It was more than a wee bit surreal standing dressed as Zorro's demented sister while exchanging pleasantries with a yuppie who had his wedding tackle hanging out of his trousers.

But bless Sniffer's heart, he brought about an abrupt end to the awkwardness by hopping onto the bed, bouncing up and down while peeling off his clothes and shouting, "If you like Jell-O, then eat me!"

He stopped bouncing on the mattress, and waggled his hairy nuts at me, "These are for you, Nutcracker! Show 'em what you got!" So I did! I drove my gloved fist into his balls as hard as I could in a nutbusting upper-cut that knocked Sniffer tumbling backwards off the bed!

Oh shit! Now he went and broke his damn fool neck! But he was right back on his feet, staggered a little coming around the bed, shook it off and then stood in front of me, hands on hips, legs spread, his burgundy bulb oozing pre-cum, grinning at me.

I must have really been gawping at him in disbelief because he threw his head back to laugh as I asked, "Do you have titanium nuts, Sniff-man, or aren't those jewels hooked up?"

"Oh, they work just fine, Nutcracker, it's just that you hit like a little girl!"

Well, at 5'4" that's about what I am, but he still has to be one tough mother to laugh off a direct punch to his balls.

"Try again, missy, before I have to go get you some help," he hefted his meaty balls, "I know of a local wrestling team that would just love to get a hold of these, my dearie!"

"Why you sexist son of a bitch!” I snarled as I stepped forward and kneed him square in his balls! He doubled up, fell forward, and his face smacked right into my oh-so-sensitive-breasts.

"Quit droolin' on my tits!" I shoved him back and slapped his face. When his hands reflexively came up to his face, I unloaded a full-frontal kick to his big balls that dropped him to his knees, groaning and clutching himself.

"Bingo! Right where I want you!" I quickly retrieved the handcuffs that I had previously stashed under the mattress. With curses, threats, and force I was able to pry his hands from out of his crotch and cuff his wrists behind his knees.

With Sniffer rocking back and forth on his knees I kicked his bare ass as I passed him on my way to the bureau. I opened the drawer into which I had dumped the "tool kit" the day before and removed a 3" ball-stretcher of stiff leather.

"Aha! Here it is, and don't you fret none, Sniffy, one size fits all!

He rolled his eyes and gurgled, but when I reached between his legs to pull his balls out into the open he started nattering on about mercy.

"Mercy, my ass! You're the one who asked for this, remember? Besides we've barely begun!" I bound his gorgeous testicles (he really does have an exquisite pair, ladies, just asking to be slapped around) in the leather and then I returned to the drawer to take out a length of nylon rope which had a metal snap-clip affixed to one end. I clipped this to the d-ring attached to the ball-stretcher. Then I slid over a chair so that I could thread the free end through the pulley that was hanging from the eye-bolt, which I'd screwed into the ceiling joist yesterday. (whew!) I pulled on the free end until I had taken up the slack, asked Sniffer if he was ready (like I cared), and then to a litany of his squeaky protestations and my breathless profanities I hauled him to his feet by his balls. Then I pulled just a wee bit more, and tied the rope off to the bed frame.

"Comfy, Sniffer?" But I couldn't help to laugh at him when I turned to see him on his tippy toes, ass in the air with his nuts stretched towards the ceiling, hands behind his knees, and head down.

"Geez, what a pathetic sight, Sniffer.” Noticing his withered dick I reached under and tweaked the head of it. "Not so proud of your package now, are you?" I gave him a little peck on the cheek.

When he started in to jabbering on about his balls being pulled off, the softie in me was moved by the tears of genuine pain streaming down his cheeks so I let out just enough rope so that he could stand flat-footed (so I'm not such a heartless bitch, but don't tell everyone). Again to the drawer of toys, and I pulled out my grandda's old shillelagh.

"How about this for starters, Sniff-boy?" I asked while slapping the knobby briar rod into my gloved palm. He started blubbering and begging again, and I had to concur with him. If I laid that walking stick across his bound balls that would be then end of him...and what fun would that be?

"But, man, I can't stand listening to your incessant jabbering." So I turned back to the drawer and rummaged around until I came up with a fat, rubber dildo and a bungi-cord.

"Ta da!" I pressed the dildo sideways into his mouth, much like the bit in a horse's mouth, and to hold it in place I stretched the bungi-cord around the back of his head and hooked both ends of the dildo.

"There. If that doesn't shut you up at least it will muffle you. Now let's see what other goodies we have in the magic drawer...Oh, looky!" I whipped out a strap-on dildo.

"Hey, Sniffer, ever been buggered before?” I asked while sorting out the straps to the damned thing, "Well, today is your lucky day! And you need to practice giving blow-jobs too. I reckon you're going to need to know how before this day is through."

I was just wiggling the strap-on into place when we heard a key in the lock. Sniffer's eyes widened inquisitively.

"Don't worry, it's not the maid... it's our guests!" Sniffer shook his head vigorously and made funny little sounds from behind his latex mouth-organ.

"Oh yeah, Sniffy, and just wait until you see who all is here!" Sniffer blanched, and I laughed, when the door opened.


I'm sure we made quite a scene to behold with me dressed as I was and Sniffer trussed up like Bambi on a bad day during deer season. But the cavalcade of the bizarre that came streaming through the door would have fit right in at Mardi Gras in Nawlins, or down in the Keys during Fantasy Fest.

They were led by Fionna, clomping in scuffed boots, wearing faded jeans and braless under her "Ballbreakers of America" tee-shirt. She was sporting black eyeliner, lipstick and fingernail polish.

She squatted down to be eye-to-eye with Sniffer, cast me a side-long glance, and ruffled his hair as she told him, "Damn, Nutcracker looks so good like that I might let her bang me first!" Then she stood, slapped his ass, and went to lean on the wall, picking her teeth with the tungsten tip of stiletto.

When her two sidekicks, Laraye and Becky, came tripping in, giggling in their Xena get-ups of leather and chain-mail, I was pretty sure that this crew had been eating hash for breakfast (cousin Simone always manages to get it in when she comes visiting from Europe...but I'd lay odds that she wouldn't pass a cavity search).

The warrior-princesses were followed by Simone herself floating in, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and looking like a young "Sheena of the Jungle" in a leopard-skin loincloth, moccasins, and simple macramé belt cinched around her lithe waist. I couldn't help to laugh, and even Sniffer cracked a wan smile behind his anatomically correct (sort of) gag.

"Geez, Simone, where did you get that outfit? Ted Nugent have a yard sale?"

Sniffer's wide-eyed grunts brought my attention back to the door where are next guest was propelled into the room by a boot in the ass.

"Sniffer, meet Sonny-boy."

Of course, all that Sniffer could see of my "li'l piggy" were eyes and his testicles as the rest of my ol' man was sheathed in a black, latex, rooster-suit with a zipper across the mouth. His hands were secured behind him. Laraye stepped over to unzip the face and make the introduction, "Say 'Hello' to Sniffer, Sonny-boy, y'all are going to get to do some real male bonding today."

She turned back to Sniffer, "First impressions are lasting, don't you think?" Then she dropped Sonny to his knees with a nutcrushing punch to his exposed balls!

"And I want you to share his pain, Sniffy,” she nodded to Simone, who slapped Sniffer's tender testes causing him to thrash around on his tether. Simone stood there chewing her bottom lip, rolling his balls around on his ass with one hand while she finger-flicked the head of his dick with the other hand.

I could smell the fear before I saw the look of panic on Sniffer's face when he heard a familiar voice bawling, "What the hell's goin' on here!" As our final guest strolled into the room, slapping a large wooden spoon into the palm of her hand, she stepped over Sonny's prostrate form to glare at Sniffer.

"This is what you mean when you tell me that you're going fishing on the Withalacoochee with old army buddies?"

Yep. It was Sniffer's dearly beloved Lisa, his wife. Boy, was she pissed off!

"Dammit, Sniffer, I love you because of your degeneracy, but I will not abide you lying to me!" She said this while tapping Sniffer's forehead with the spoon by way of accenting each word. She turned back to Sonny and motioned with the spoon.

"Get him on his feet!"

The warrior-princesses grabbed Sonny under each arm and hauled him upright.

"For lying to me, I'm going to give you one of these!"

BOOM! Her knee slammed into Sonny's precious jewels, but before he could even react, she called over her shoulder, "And for not inviting me to this party, this!"

BOOM! Again her knee driven into my man's balls, so viciously that I noticed even Fionna flinched (and that's saying something).

Lisa stepped over to Sniffer, grabbed his chin to hold his gaze as she glared into his eyes, "But not yet. I want you boys to be able to get it up for the Gladiator Combat!"

We all started cheering as Lisa slowly, provocatively peeled off the duster she was wearing to bare her shapely body clad only in bra, panties, and garter belts with stockings (black fishnet with the seam up the back, guys). When she leaned over to rub her exquisite apple-ass in her husband's face I think Fionna fell in love!

With the guys groaning and the women hootin' and hollerin' the din in that room was deafening. But above the noise rose Simone's laughter as she flopped backwards onto the bed, hiked the leopardskin up around her thighs, kicked her moccassined heels in the air, and howled, "Blimey, I want one a dem Yanks tae crawl over 'ere, and gimme some 'ead!"

"Dammit, Simone!” Becky chided her, "Don't say that! You'll have the thought-police down on us!"

"Wot ye talkin' 'bout, luv, you south'n girls always say that?"

"Not anymore, Cuz” I started to explain to her, "it's been mandated by the effete foreigners and carpet-baggers that we G.R.I.T.S. can't use that expression anymore."

With that I tossed my head, and when I did Becky pointed at me and said, "What's that?"

Uh oh. I played dumb, "What's what?"

By now silence had ensued and all eyes were on me when Laraye pipes in, "Yeah, it looks like a zipper on the back of your neck."

Oh shit! The jig's up! I vault up onto the bureau and brandish a large bourbon bottle at 'em, “Back, I say. Back!" I unzip my elaborate disguise to reveal, not the diminutive sexual deviate they know me as but my real identity, a seven-foot tall, 440-pound, smelly, hirsute man with a cock like "Mr. Ed" and balls to match! A veritable fornicating god!!

I could hear their jaws drop as they all stand stupefied.

"BWAHAhahahah!" I laughed evilly, "It was the perfect charade! I even had me own sister, cousin, and boyfriend fooled! I would have gotten away with it too..."

(I turn to point an accusing finger at you. Yes, you. The readers and posters of this message board)

"...if it hadn't been for y'all! You meddlesome kids!"

I then pull a Ruger Blackhawk out of the crack of my ass, shoot out the lights, leap to the bed to scoop up Simone (I always did fancy this Cockney trollop) who is staring wide-eyed in fear and confusion, give her a reassuring pat on her delicious rump, hit the floor running, and bolt for the door!! I hip-check Sniffer off his feet which sets him off howling in new agony as he scrambles to get his legs back under him. I stiff-arm Lisa out of our way and we're through the door, clear! Thundering down the hallway with Simone shouting back to Fionna, "Call me ma, and tell her I mightn't be 'ome for Guy Fawkes Day!"

Taking the steps four at a time we burst out into the sunlit dirt lot. I slap Simone down onto the back of my '50 Shovelhead, straddle it myself to fire the hawg up! I turn to Simone who is pushing her chestnut-brown hair out of her eyes, "You had better grab onto me joy-stick, dearie, we've got a long way to go and a short time to get there!"

With Simone wrapping her dainty fingers around me man-root in a firm grip, we peel out of there kicking up a rooster-tail of gravel as we slide sideways out onto the two-lane tarmac! We're really moving because I want to put some distance between us and the rabid mob!

We must holler to be heard over the rumble of Milwaukee steel, and the wind. "Where are we goin', Nutcracker?"

"I'm not 'Nutcracker Sweet', cuz; call me by my real name, Big Mike Mackee! And we're heading to the woods of Carolina to visit with an old friend of mine. So hang on tight, because I slow down for nothing, not even dead raccoons and joggers!"

"Ooo, this is an adventure, Guv'nor! 'ow long a ride is it?"

It's normally a two day cruise, but it'll take us a little longer because we have to detour through the city to pick up a birthday present for my buddy, Billybob!"

"Shoppin' in the big city? Terrific! Would ye buy me somethin' nice tae wear and somethin' sweet tae eat?"

Don't worry; I've got something for you to eat. Besides, it's not that kind of a present. See, Billybob's sexual predilection swings both ways, like a bar door, so what better gift for him than that hermaphrodite, 'Anonymous'? That's where you come in, Simone; I need your expertise to snatch him up!"

"A bloody shanghai, eh? I 'aven't done one a dese in a while. But leave it to me; I know just what to do!"

"I was counting on that. Your people ruled the seven seas with a Navy built on shanghai!"

"Right-o! Impressment's in me blood!"

We lapsed into silence for a few miles until Simone asked, "Wot 'appens when we get tae Carolina?"

"We set up housekeeping: you and me. Billybob and 'Anonymous'. You can teach him that thing you do with your tongue, and he can teach you to cook. If you're going to live in Dixie you need to know how to whip up biscuits 'n' gravy, and a decent cuppa coffee!"

"YeeeeHaw!” Simone lets out a Rebel yell that'd curl any Yankee's hair.

"One more thing, Simone, can I call you 'Eliza'?"

"Sure thing, Professor!" She squeezes my turgid member.

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