Busted for the First Time (real story)

By nuwanda

This is a real story, it happened to me yesterday (actually today, since it was at 6am or something like that).

I am 20 years old, and I had never been busted before. Many girls tried to hit me there, but they missed, so it practically didn't hurt at all. At first I didn't know if that was what was happening, or if girls hitting me there when I was aware of it didn't hurt me (especially after reading that this was what happened to Knackers).

Anyway, after coming home at 1am from going to an amazing rock concert with a friend, I went to a chat room (actually a lot) and started talking to people. I found this girl who is 23 (who trained karate for 5 years and had quit like 3 years ago), and after my usual fighting talk, I kept saying that she wouldn't be capable of actually hitting someone in the nuts on purpose and she kept saying she would. To make a long story short, I was seeing her in person a little while later (at like 3am).

She's an amazing person, and so is her girl roommate. She's a little shorter than me (I'm 1.77 m high) and quite pretty. But when I was alone with her at the entrance of her building, I told her to hit me there. She actually couldn't believe that I was actually willing to let her hit me but after a lot of, "I can't believe this, I'm really going to hit you", she finally did it. This was when I first saw her before going up to her apartment and meeting her roommate. I told her to knee me softly so she'd see it wouldn't hurt me and then start kneeing harder. And so she did. She kneed me a couple times, and except for the last knee, it nearly didn't hurt at all, just like before. Her last knee hurt me enough to make me a little "uncomfortable" a little after she kneed me but I didn't have any problems standing up and I could have hurt her if I wanted to.

After staying with both of them talking for quite a while, I said I was leaving and she came back with me to open the door. That's when I asked her to try and kick me. At first the kicks were awkward, kind of like raising and then like pushing forward with her foot. I think she got my dick once but none on my balls so it didn't hurt much. I then told her to try to kick me in a way I've seen on a femaledom video I got somewhere (the filename is "femaledom4.mpg"), sort of like a mae geri raising the knee a lot, like she was kicking to the face but being closer so the kick would hit my balls. And I'm happy this kick actually worked :) It did kick my balls and it did hurt. I didn't fall down, double over or anything, but it actually hurt. She was barefoot and she wasn't kicking nearly as hard as she could but I had been kneed before so I was a little more vulnerable. She didn't look like she wanted to go on with it, so I told her that if she kicked me full force once, it would be enough. She wasn't angry at me or anything so she couldn't really kick me as hard as she could but she kicked me many times more (she even missed on some of the kicks). During her last kicks, I couldn't help but moving a little so they didn't hit as they should have. I told her to really kick me hard the next time and I closed my eyes so I wouldn't try to dodge the kick. And it was her hardest kick that day and the one it hurt me most. I felt like I really needed to lay on the floor but I only ducked for a few seconds (the more I showed her it didn't hurt, the harder she'd kick next time). I still would have been able to fight her and beat her if I wanted to. I left her home at 7am.

The bottom line is I enjoyed like hell being busted for the first time. But I found out what I wanted to know, which is if a girl could really beat me up if she hit me there. And my answer is NO, if I think she might kick me there. But I know kicks work better (at least for me), since her knee couldn't really get in between my legs even when I was spreading them apart a little (not a lot when thinking of being kneed but much more than how I normally stand still). Her little girly foot went straight to my balls with no obstacles. But still, after being kicked once and again by a girl who used to train karate (even if she lost her training) didn't disable me at all. It did make me lose my appetite though :) I still have to try what would happen if she'd squeeze my balls (though I think this girl won't do it) and what would happen if she kicked me when I'm not expecting it.

Anyway, that's the story.

A Girl Worth Hanging Out With

By nuwanda

This is my first story. If you could send honest feedback, I'd appreciate it. Thanks.

A few weeks ago I had lent a mixed CD to the sister of a friend of mine. My family knows her family, that's how I know her. To my surprise, I ran into her when I went dancing with a friend a couple days ago. She's not what most people would call beautiful, but I think her body's fine. She's very sweet, her eyes are pretty, and her smile alone tells you she's worth hanging out with.

Anyway, I spent half the night talking to her, about music, about people. At some point she told me that the security guy cornered her against a wall, and she didn't know what to do. Nothing bad actually happened, but I always find a way to bring "fighting" up in conversations with girls, to let me ask them, "What would you do if you had to defend yourself" and let them answer me what I

want them to. So I said, "If that happens again, let me know, so I'll tackle him. Maybe it'll take him a couple minutes to kill me, and you'll have some time to run." We laughed, and she then said that she can hit very hard for a girl (music to my ears), and I said "show me" and extended my arm. She punched my there a few times, and I've got to say she was right.

No girl had hit me in a way that it actually hurt, even the slightest bit. A few have tried to hit me in the balls, but for some reason it never hurt a lot with just one hit, and I couldn't help telling them to stop just before it started to really hurt. Survival instinct, I guess. Probably most of the hits didn't actually hit my balls.

Anyway, I took the punches well, but I said something like "hey, stop!" It was more interesting that way. It brought this mood where when I made some smart-ass remarks and she'd threaten to punch me again. I wasn't even thinking about ballbusting yet, it's just the way I tend to act with some girls. But near the end of the night, after I put out her last cigarette before she finished it (I don't like it when people smoke), she looked at me in an 'I'm going to kill you' sort of way. Both of us smiling, I grabbed her wrists, saying something like "take it easy" and then she raised her knee, not trying to hit me, but kind of "showing me how she felt". Nothing more of that sort happened that night, but we had arranged to meet at my house a few days later, to return my CD and exchange some more music. And my parents wouldn't be home that day, since it's a national holiday. You wouldn't know the ideas that came to my head…

.....................................................................

So she came to my place that day, and we talked, and we share some music. I managed to bring back "fighting" to the conversation. I told her, "You know that punching doesn't really hurt much, do you?"

She said, "Sure, but there's not really much that I could do that would

really hurt you."

So I answered, "That thing you threatened to do the other night, maybe that could hurt me, right?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. It hurts like hell to be hit there, right?"

I said, "I wouldn't know, no girl could hurt me by hitting me there."

She said, "That's because you've never been hit by me." By this time we were both smiling and laughing all the time.

I said, "You wouldn't."

"Oh yeah?"

I stood up, my legs a little spread. I was challenging her. But she kept on smiling and looked away. She wasn't really a violent person. She wasn't going to hit me. So I said, "Come on, just for fun. You can knee me very lightly at first, and increase the force, and in the end we'll know if you can actually hurt me that way."

She agreed. She was convinced that she wouldn't need to knee me full force, I'd give up much before. So she stood up, and put her hands on my shoulders. This was amazing, even though I didn't think she would really knee me as hard as she could, I enjoyed myself very much. She then lifted her knee. I didn't say "she kneed me" because she barely touched my balls with her knee. She was actually afraid of hurting me.

I looked her like I was doing before the knee, and said, "So, when are you going to knee me?"

She said, "Oh yeah?" and WHAM, she kneed me much harder, but still not a powerful knee. This time I actually felt it, but pretended it didn't.

"So?"

WHAM, even harder.

"Come on, you can do better."

WHAM.

I was starting to hurt now, and it was clear that she wasn't even near using all her strength. She was hitting me like a friend, and even though I was really enjoying what was happening, I wanted her to really hit me. So I said, "Do I have to grab your ass in order to make you knee me for real?"

She stared at me, and after I laughed, she said, "Nah, just like I can't knee you for real. You can't grab my ass. We're friends." That's exactly what I was waiting for.

Her hands were still gently resting on my shoulders as I reached down and grabbed her from behind, and I felt her hands slowly started to get a grip on my t-shirt, and before I could do anything, she kneed me in the balls with such a force that I wouldn't have thought possible, even for her. She didn't just move her knee, she increased her momentum by turning her hips with the knee, just the way they teach me to kick in karate training. And man, did that hurt. I've heard that it doesn't hurt immediately, that it slowly builds up into being unbearable. Well, fuck that, it was unbearable from the start. I actually couldn't believe I could feel such pain, even after hearing everything people say. And it got worse every second. The pain slowly rose from my balls to my stomach, and I felt like I wanted to puke. I wasn't going to, but the feeling was there.

I couldn't keep standing anymore; I dropped to my knees, still holding my balls. My friend didn't think it could hurt that much either, in the movie the guy gets back up in a second. But I couldn't move; I was using all my energy left not to fall completely into fetal position. But surprised as she was, she didn't apologize or anything like that. Instead, she said, "You deserved that."

After a few moments, she started smiling again. The first shock has passed, and

she realized that I was just playing, so she added, "So, is that hard enough for you, or should I hit you even harder?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Even harder?? Could she actually DO that???

I said, "You wouldn't… you did before because I grabbed your ass, but you wouldn't do it just for the sake of it."

But apparently one knee alone wasn't payback enough for what I did, and my eyes were wide open in amazement when she slowly reached between my legs and pulled my hand apart from my aching nuts. My heart started beating wildly, I was still kneeling down, my legs spread, my hands on the air, and I wasn't ready for another hit. No way could I take it.

But her pretty eyes that never lie assured me that it was just what was coming and her smile assured me that it was going to hurt… a lot. I started to say, "No! Pl…" when her foot swung through the air and collided merciless against my unprotected balls. This time all the karate and mental training weren't enough to prevent me from falling to the floor, holding my balls, unable to move, unable to speak, as she released her hold over my wrists. As much as I've heard from other people, I couldn't believe that a weak little girl, one that had no martial arts training whatsoever, one that I could beat without any problem in a fair fight, was the reason why I just wanted the world to just stop right there, to end my misery.

She kissed me in the cheek, and said, "NOW we're even."

Y'all Cum Back Now, Y'Hear!

By nutcracker sweet

Howdy! Here's a little tale for y'all. Hope it's not too long. Sorry guys, I didn't write this whole thing, I had a little help from a friend!

"Horseshoes? Hah! The day that I can't beat a couple of backwoods midgets at horseshoes is the day that I'd let 'em feed me my own cum!” Noodles Macdoneitagain bellowed, scratching his nuts and leering at the two women before him, as he upended the bottle of Dixie beer and finished it off in one long draught.

"Big talk for a little man," Fionna Macrivalclan sneered, "but..."

"Little man?” interrupted Fionna's younger sister Moira, looking up at the half-drunk pompous ass that was towering above them.

Fionna leaned into her sister and nudged her with an elbow. "I've seen all of him, and believe me when I say 'little man'!"

With a roar of laughter, Noodles Macdoneitagain slapped Fionna on the ass and then quickly scampered away with his hands protectively covering his groin, as Fionna took a half-hearted kick at his crotch.

"I'll tell ye what, ladies, if I win then I have my own sex slaves for the weekend with the Macrivalclan sisters! But if y'all win then you can do to me what ye will, and I know what you want, Fionna." At this he grabbed the bulge in the crotch of his jeans, "A shot at these, right?"

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna make you squeal like the pig you are!"

Moira stood wide-eyed, absently rubbing her own groin through the denim of her jeans, looking from her sex-crazed sister to the sex-crazed behemoth...

-Moira-

Good God, I thought he'd never shut up! He was so witty and fun by email, but in person he was downright annoying. Maybe I was just in a bad mood from having to drink all that Zima. Or maybe I was pissed off because he actually DID play horseshoes so well! Maybe it was the way he kept staring at my ass. OK, half of it was hanging out of my "Daisy Dukes” but that didn't give him the right to just stare like that, so blatantly! The bottom line is he just got all over my nerves. And what was up with Fionna?!!? She was soaking it up, all his flirting with her! She usually sees through that bullshit, but he seemed to just have her licking out of his hand. So finally I couldn't take it any more. Looking back, maybe I was a little rash. Nah... when I remember the look on his face, it was worth it!

He was getting so sure of himself, so comfortable with us. Thinking he was on our level! So I tapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his fawning over Fionna and as he turned around... Oh! It was beautiful! The look of surprise...I mean, he simply didn't comprehend for a couple seconds, even when he saw my little pointy-toed Justin heading for his crotch, felt it crush his balls. Or maybe he didn't feel it right away? Anyway, the look of incomprehension, turning to a very real comprehension; the look of disappointment and betrayal, the look of sudden fear... Oh! It was just priceless!

Thank goodness that seemed to break Fionna out of her spell. As he sank to his knees, slowly, like was on a sports replay on TV, she moved in behind him and dug around in his jeans, finally finding the waistband of his boxers, and gave him the wedgie from hell! I was so relieved that she hadn't turned soft! And damn, she lifted him practically off the ground! I think his whimpering spurred her on! And then it was like old times... she held him from behind, half struggling, while I landed a few more good kicks to his soft spots. He was pretty much out of it when he sank to the ground. Briefly I felt sorry for him. But he asked for it, right? Teasing us like that?

-Noodles-

I admit it caught me off guard when Moira actually kicked me. Was I making her jealous, spending so much time talking to Fionna? At first I didn't get it. It took a while for the pain to sink in. I had been thinking that they were all talk... and suddenly everything changed. They became vicious, wild, horrifying! And I couldn't fight back. the first kick paralyzed me and then to have Fionna turn on me, too, ripping my underwear off me like that, and pulling half my crotch with it. It was so humiliating to be defenseless when these two women--two girls, really, so small and cute, despite their tough, outlaw garb--pulled down my jeans, held me down, abused me.

Really, with Moira, barely over 100 pounds sitting on my chest, her milky white legs squeezing my sides like she was riding a horse, and Fionna kneeling above my head, holding both my wrists and stretching my arms out. I was helpless… and it was so embarrassing. Looking up at Fionna's face, from underneath, and seeing her chin and cheekbones, seeing the sinewy bare arms, knowing that this was the woman who had a vise-like grip on my own wrists and arms, who was keeping me captive... seeing Moira's gleeful laugh, her lipstick shining in the sun as she bounced on me, reaching back to grasp my now exposed scrotum...to be completely in the control of these two women...it was outrageous! I knew I should be able to simply buck Moira off, to merely overpower Fionna and yet I stayed their captive, overcome not by handcuffs or trickery but by their sheer physical dominance.

And then to be forced to say those things! But I tell myself I didn't have a choice. When someone is squeezing your nuts, you'll do anything, say anything. I just wish I hadn't been erect, though. They were so amused by my inability to control myself. I thought it couldn't get any worse.

-Fionna-

I fuckin' wish Moira had held off a little bit. I mean, I was ready to bust him as much as she was, though he was kinda cute and all but first I wanted to get him at horseshoes. Dropping him when she did was practically admitting that he had won!

Of course, once she kicked him that first time, instinct kind of set in. And damn, it was fun tag-teaming him. Poor city-slicker... he talked about how he'd been in fights before, but he wouldn't even have lasted five minutes with my momma. Sometimes that's the best, so you can toy with them for a while. I let Moira do most of the dirty work. It was a little sad for a minute, well, not sad but sweet, the way when she was grinding his nuts he was looking up at me with those puppy eyes and all...like he wanted to ask me out to the soda shop or something! Damn, dude, we're kicking your ass!

I figured I better make it clear to him what was going on. So I left him to Moira's sadistic little hands for a minute and fetched my Blackhawk from the truck. His eyes got bigger than Bambi's during hunting season when I ran the muzzle around his neck and cheek. Moira even got a little nervous when I told him to open up. I had to tell him to stop thrashing or he'd break a tooth or something on the barrel. "Suck it!" I yelled. And he did! God, I don't think I would have done that! He was pretty scared, though.

Moira balked when I told her to roll him over. "You're not stickin' that up his ass!" she complained. "The front site will rip something up and we'll have to take him to the hospital! And they're tired of seeing us!" She had a point, but I made her roll him over anyway. Once we got him settled down and docile again--it's funny how a good double hammerlock kind of takes the fight out of a guy--I showed her what I was up to. A .357 Magnum cartridge is kind of skinny but it makes a half-decent butt plug for a virgin. Two work even better. So I held him still while Moira pulled his pants up over his loaded rear end--she was laughing again now--and then I told him we were ready to continue with the horseshoes. And that I hoped he had a better attitude toward the whole thing. Damned if he still didn't beat us, but watching the kink those rounds put in his throwing style was worth it! I'm sure we woulda beaten him if we hadn't been laughing too hard to throw straight!

-Noodles-

I limped to the bathroom, moving about as quickly as a one-legged asthmatic sloth with heavy shopping. The Macmerciless sisters laughed and practiced their horse-shoe throwing. Frankly, they could use the practice. If only they were as inaccurate with their feet, I might not have crumbled so quickly when they attacked. But they’d caught me off-guard. I’d been expecting the first strike to come from Fionna. It had been she who had made all the threats, and had even given me a warning shot before the game began.

I should have realized what I had gotten myself into sooner, I suppose. Then again, nothing could have prepared me for the severity of those Macsnapkicks, even though it was witnessing Fionna delivering one that piqued my interest in the first place. Well, not the very first place – that would have been the sight of her jiggling… wait… let’s start at the beginning.

I don’t know what town I was in, if it can even be called a town – more like a pub with a few trailers and shacks around it. Hell, I don’t even know what state I was in – I’d forgotten to turn left at Rocky Top and wound up driving all day in the wrong direction till there weren’t even proper roads. I expected at any moment to just drive into a swamp and get eaten by alligators. So I stopped at the first sign of attempted civilization and tried to drink myself into enough of a stupor so that I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the car overnight.

The population of the town couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, yet the population of the pub was at least fifty – mainly yee-haws who were 98% on the way to oblivion. And no wonder – the only drink they served was some kind of moonshine that tasted like it had been distilled from Brussels sprouts and hair oil. There were a handful of almost toothless crones who seemed determined to try to knock out the rest of their teeth on the cocks of whoever would have them, and I’d politely but firmly rejected four invitations in the space of three drinks.

So when Fionna swaggered in with her perky chest-puppies wagging their tails and her smooth round butt-cheeks moving like they were chewing a caramel, my cock shot up so quickly I thought it was saluting her. She moved with determination to the bar, with her face slightly red and coated with sparkling sweat that I’d have been happy to lick off right away.

"Line em, up, Billy-Jo-Jim-Bob, two pint’s ‘o ya finest polish remover. Just raced me fat-arsed sister from the county line, and boy we got a thirst goin’."

"Ah ain’t Billy-Jo-Jim-Bob," said the barman. "Ahs his cousin, Bobby-Jo-Jimmy-Bill."

"Well if that don’t beat a rat’s ass with a dildo," said Fionna, winking at me.

"You believe these friggin’ hicks?" She picked up her pint glass and downed half of it in one gulp. "Jee-zuz! That’ll put hairs on me nipples!"

At that point a man emerged from the men’s room and stared straight at Fionna as if in shock. "Whooo-Hooo! Spank my monkey and call me an octopus! Ain’t seen nuttin’ that sweet since Mary-Sue-Sally-Anne got all her pink bits bit off by that gator back in ’92."

He was about 6’4" and had to bend down to grab a huge handful of Fiona’s delicious ass-meat. Well, I wasn’t going to have any of that behavior, so I downed my shot-glass of nuclear horse-piss and stood to defend this fine lady’s honor, just in time to see the blur of her foot moving like a snake with whisky on its ass-hole. She’s a tiny little thing, but I swear her foot would have knocked a hole in the ceiling if that hick’s balls hadn’t got in the way. All the blood drained from his face and he let out a little squeak that somehow conveyed all his pain, shock and horror as he sank to his knees, then fell straight onto his face with his hands on his balls.

That’s when Moira arrived, panting and sweating at the door. "Aw, dang it Fi! Couldn’t ya wait till I’d had one friggin drink?"

Bobby-Jo-Billy-Jim shouted, "Well squeeze my sphincter! Youse is them Macnutty sisters what’s wanted in five counties hereabouts! And danged if ya didn’t just give the sheriff a six-pack worth o agony to the aggetts. Who’s deperty this week? Ya’ll gotta ‘rest these hooliganisms."

The dozen or so men who weren’t too shitfaced to walk stood up. One said, "In these cases, we’s ALL deperties, right, Cletis-Willie-jo-bob?"

"Huh-huh! Yersir. I reckons we’s gotta detain these felonies overnight, and meebe fer a few weeks, huh-huh."

Fionna was defiantly looking from one set of balls to another, seemingly ready to take them all on, but Moira grabbed her arm and shouted, "Don’t be a badger's asshole, Fi, ya can’t kick ‘em all." So Fionna simply kicked the set of balls closest to her, and the guy collapsed in the doorway, which gave the girls a bit of a head start as they sprinted towards the county line and safety.

After shoving aside the man groaning in the doorway, the men headed to the dirt lot and clambered aboard the flat-bed truck that was possibly the town’s only transport. It started with a rattle and slowly strained towards the road. Decrepit as it was, I knew the girls couldn’t outrun the truck, especially since they’d already been running. I ran to my car and sped after them, passing the truck quickly and seeing the girls about a hundred yards further up the road. I stopped just in front of them and shouted at them to get in. They hesitated at first, but saw the truck approaching and figured it was better to trust a stranger, no matter how perverted he might be, than to trust the lust-crazed mob hell-bent on avenging their sheriff’s battered balls.

Fionna climbed in the passenger seat, and Moira got in the back and said, "Y’all some kinda super-hero, or what?"

"Oh, I don’t know about that," I said. "I just don’t like to see a lady in trouble."

"Ain’t no ladies, round here," said Moira. "So don’t go getting’ no high-falutin’ ideas like you’re some kinda dragon slayer, alright? What in the name a blue Jesus’ cock is that accent a yours, anyways? Or ya jesta retard?"

"Um, no, not really," I said. "I’m Australian."

"Really?" said Fiona. "Like the crocodile hunter, huh? Maybe you have killed a few dragons… little ones, anyways."

"Uh… only a couple," I said. "The ones that come into the yard at home, you know. I don’t go looking for them or anything." I live in Melbourne. The nearest croc outside a zoo is about 2000 miles away, and I’d probably shit my pants if I ever saw one up close.

"Wow!" said Fionna. She slapped her hand down hard on my thigh, about a quarter of an inch from my balls, and squeezed – I could feel a lot of power in her small hands. "Hope you didn’t lose anything vital while you were fighting them?"

"Uh… I’m not sure… perhaps you should check," I said.

"Oh, Christ on a stick!" spat Moira, "I hope ya don’t mind if I throw up in your car."

"Don’t mind her," said Fionna, walking her fingers across my thigh towards my erection. "She gets a bit grumpy when she’s sober." She took as much of my cock and balls as she could in her hand and said, "Wow, you’ll have a great package when it’s finished. When are you getting the rest sent down?" She gave me a small punch to my nuts that made me jump and swerve the car slightly.

She turned to Moira and said, "Well, least we got some bait for catching breakfast."

Normally, this humiliation would have deflated my ego and my cock, but Fionna was just such a little bundle of spunk I reckon I would’ve stayed hard if she was using a cheese grater on my eyes. And that punch in the balls was so nice it caused all my pre-cum to make a large wet patch in my underpants.

I couldn’t believe my luck. After driving for days across half the country looking for some dumb bitch called Nutcracker Sweet (or ntckrswt – damn dumb-ass couldn’t spell, let alone give directions to the swamp-trailer where she lived), a girl I’d met on the Internet, I’d stumbled across a hot looking fuck-bunny who was wanted in five counties for doing to men what I enjoyed having done to me most. I was certain that if I could just get her away from her bitchy sister, she’d be likely to crush my nuts and suck them dry afterwards. For all her insults about my cock, she’d let her fingers linger on it long enough to tell me she wouldn’t mind at least giving it a test-drive.

"So, uh, Fionna… Are you really wanted for crimes against masculinity?"

She looked at me for a long time before saying, "Maybe I is and maybe I ain’t. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you" She giggled. "Or maybe I’d just have to make you wish you were dead. Anyway, it’s not as though I’m the worst offender around here… everyone does it. Nothin’ else to do since the monster-truck club closed down. Nothin’ to do but play horse-shoes and kick some balls, if you can find any. Lotta guys left town recently. Big mystery."

Oh, man… it was too perfect. They couldn’t possibly know that I was the Knoxville horse-shoes champion five years running, and they had no idea I loved to get my balls crushed. I quickly formulated a plan to get them drunk then challenge them to a game… with a small wager to make it interesting.

We couldn’t go into any bars because the girls had been banned everywhere, so I got a couple of cases of Dixie beer and we headed to their house. They’d graciously offered to let me sleep on the couch overnight, but I had better ideas.

We started drinking pretty heavily and it clear to me that these girls knew how to drink. But I’ve been know to sink a beer or two, and I was confident I could get them rat-arsed before I passed out. Especially Fiona, who’s already sunk half a pint of gutrot in the bar where I met her.

After a couple of hours, everything was going well – I was telling the girls some of my fabulous personal stories and anecdotes, and Fionna was listening in awe and laughing. I don’t know what was up Moira’s arse, but she just didn’t seem to like me at all, even when I told her that hilarious story about how I humiliated a fat chick. There was something about her, though, that sparked my interest. I’m not sure if it was the way her ass looked in those tiny shorts she changed into, or the way her nipples stood out on her small but jutting norks, or the muscles bulging on her slim, yet shapely, legs. Maybe it was because she was much more intelligent than Fionna, yet didn’t feel the need to show it off. Or maybe it was the way her laughter almost made me cum every time I heard it (which wasn’t as often as I’d hoped – she barely smiled when I told her the wryly amusing story of the time I ran over a guide dog). In any event, I realized at point during the night that I’d picked the wrong sister. As sexy as Fionna was, Moira was just as pretty, and twice as interesting. Then again, maybe I just wanted her because she didn’t like me. In any event, I gave Fionna more and more attention, hoping to make Moira jealous. Not a great plan, I know, but after half a dozen beers and a few shots of that moonshine, it seemed to make sense.

And to make the plan even more perfect, it was Moira who suggested the game of horseshoes. When I suggested we place a bet on the outcome – my balls or their servitude – they didn’t bat an eyelid. I knew I’d beat them – my plan was to make them my slaves and have my wicked way with them in every possible manner, legal or otherwise. But I would be a kind master – I would let them kick my balls a few times each, as a consolation prize. And if they didn’t do it then, I’d order them to do it, and I’d order them to do it HARD.

Of course, I didn’t know then what I know now. I don’t know how angry or jealous I made Moira, but from the first kick she gave me, you’d think she was busting Satan’s balls. I had no idea it was coming, and when it hit me, my first thought was that the sick bitch had shot me in the nuts. It was the kind of kick that stops time. The shock of it numbed everything at first, and then the pain came in waves, and I just sank to the ground, as if I was floating down like a feather. But I still landed like a brick, and before I knew it, Fionna had me pinned to the ground and Moira’s foot was slamming into my balls in a completely unnecessary series of crushing kicks that sent me so far past my pain threshold I expected to be kicked into another dimension. In a way, I think she did send me into another dimension – a dimension of pain so pure my existence will never be the same again – all I have is a memory of that pain to accompany me through life, as I vainly seek a path home again, home to that world where I thought that a kick in the balls could only make you fall down and writhe on the floor for a while. But I wasn’t in that world anymore. I was in Fionna and Moira’s world, and I hated it and loved it. When Moira took hold of my nuts and compressed them to the size of grapes in her savage grip, I felt myself shudder and tense – through all that unbearable agony came a delicious pleasure and I was about to spray Moira with more cum than she could drink in a month, when Fionna suddenly put a gun to my head and made me suck the barrel.

Things had suddenly turned very unsexy. I sucked that gun barrel like the shit-scared coward I am, and said all manner of things I’ll sure I’ll regret. But worst of all, they plugged my butt with some of the bullets. I have no idea how many – the pain in my balls was all I could feel at that point. All I know is that as soon as I beat them at horseshoes, I limped to the bathroom to have an almighty shit to purge myself of these bullets.

But once I sat down, I was too scared to shit, in case one of them hit the porcelain and detonated. But I couldn’t bear to have them in there, either, and there was no way I was going outside to take a dump on the lawn in front of the Macsexyevilbitch sisters. To make matters more confusing, I saw my balls swollen and bruised, my sack looked like a pomegranate, and that reminded me of Moira’s precise and savage kicks. The girls had some of their bras and knickers drying on a towel rack in the bathroom, and it wasn’t hard to picture them having those garments ripped off, just before I ravish them. My cock had been promising an orgasm for hours and I couldn’t hold it back any longer for fear it would backfire and make my balls explode. So I thought of Moira, and all I would do with her and her sister once I could move properly again, and I grabbed hold of my steely cock and started stroking.

It didn’t take long before I was ready to cum, and just as I got to the point of no return, Fionna thumped on the door and asked if I was okay. She thumped so hard I thought one of the bullets had fired inside me and I shat out everything I’d eaten in the past month, and possibly a few organs, to boot, and simultaneously shot a wad of cum large enough to drown a cat, right into one cup of Moira’s favorite leather bra. The relief was overpowering, and I slumped on the toilet, breathing heavily with my heart pounding wildly.

Fionna knocked again. "What are ya doing in there? You okay or what?"

I wiped the sweat from my brow and looked at the cum dripping from Moira’s bra. I knew that would not go unnoticed. Or unpunished. What’s that line from Shakespeare? Hell hath no fury like a sexy redneck ballbuster who’s just discovered that you’ve spunked in her favorite bra? Man, my balls would pay for that later. But right now, all I could feel was a heavenly relief.

"Yeh, I’m fine," I said. "For now." I knew I would suffer later beyond my wildest dreams or nightmares. But just to make sure, I wiped my spermy hands on a pair of the girl’s panties. I finished up in the bathroom, and went through the door and into the arms of the sexiest executioners I could ever hope to meet.

Trick or Treat

By nutcracker sweet

With the neighborhood kids seemingly done with their Trick-or-Treating you settle down on the couch, your balls wrapped in a silk sash and with a fistful of baby oil you start to stroke yourself, as Elvira camps it up on the television.

Hot damn, you think, that Mid-western Viking has sure got some big knockers. You giggle, thinking, I bet that sawed-off runt in Mudville County wishes she had half the tits of Cassandra Petersen...

DING! DONG!

"Oh shit!" you mutter, tucking yourself back into your Spiderman pajamas. "Must be one last Trick-or-Treater."

DING! DONG!

"Hold your horses! I'm coming!"

You open the door, but there is no one there. You tentatively poke your head out and look to the right...and then look to the left, but nada. Not a damn thing.

"Hm?" You step out on the front steps and gaze up and down the block, taking in the Halloween decorations until your eye falls on the house where Alex Macleod filmed an episode of "Trading Spaces". Your hand absently fondles your tight scrotum as you muse about blue-eyed Scottish lasses. Mmmmmmmmm, blue-eyed Celtic girls... DOH!

You hear a noise from back inside your house! But it isn't Elvira telling one of her corny jokes. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as you consider entering the house. Maybe you ought to head down to the VFW for reinforcements...

Oh, don't be a sissy, you reproach yourself, it's gotta be the TV, or the cat, or something logical...

So you turn and march back in slamming the door behind you, and locking it. The silence is deafening. You know that you left the television on. Slowly you turn, clutch your chest and stagger backwards at the apparition before you! Three cloaked figures, their features hidden within the cowls of their capes!

"Yikes!" You step back, only to have your arms seized. Bug-eyed, you look over your shoulders to see two more shadowy figures holding you tightly. You feel your bowels ready to evacuate in terror.

"Wha-bab-dab-whoo-gep-nadan-" you stutter ala Porky Pig.

The living nightmare in the middle steps forward a pace or two. "This is the Festival of Samhain," a soft lilting drawl speaks from out of the shadow of the hood, "and we need to appease the gods of the Otherworld."

You lick the sweat from your upper lip, thinking, Thank god; at least they're human...

Another one of the cloaked figures steps right up to you and a slight, silver-ringed hand shoots out of the billowy sleeve to grab your crotch... and women, you smile to yourself.

"Yugh!" you chirp, as the black-lacquered nails dig into your testicles.

"Particularly, we need to appease the goddess, Nut-crunchicle!" The hand twists and tightens on your hapless nut sac.

"You do know who Nut-crunchicle was, don't ye?"

Grimacing and red faced you weakly shake your head, "NO."

"Ah! She was an ancient Druid priestess, she died a horrible death at the hands of 'traders from the East'!", she drawls as she shakes your nuts and lets 'em drop.

The third specter pipes in, "Her soul can't rest until her treacherous death has been avenged!"

"Yeah," says the cowled one at your right shoulder as she reaches around you to punch your balls. "Repaid in full!"

"Wha- what’s this gotta do with me?" you gasp

She presses her face so close to yours that you can smell her breath, which vaguely reminds you of kerosene, "You are the last remaining male descendent of those murderous traitors from the East!"

"And we are the Daughters of Nut-crunchicle!" they all sing out in unison. "And we've come to finish the last chapter to this ancient story!" The three in front of you throw off their cloaks, to stand spread legged, hands on hips. Naked, except for thigh-high black leather boots with spurs and strap-on dildos over their glistening crotches. Thin-hipped, tight-assed, flat-bellied, small of breast, blue eyes blazing contempt at you.

Even in this situation your lustful animal instincts take over as you gawk at the three women who certainly do bear a resemblance to each other, and your cock starts to stir as your aching balls roll in their fleshy pouch.

"Howdy!" drawls the smallest of the three as she rakes her black-lacquered fingers through her unruly, raven-mane, "It's me, Moira!"

"Jaysus, Moira, what the hell is goin' on?" you desperately interrupt her.

You slump and gag when the lady in the middle steps up and kicks your balls, ordering you, "Silence!"

"OOOOPS! You just made Fionna's acquaintance!" Moira continues, turning to gesture at the third raven-haired, blue-eyed vixen who is smiling at you and idly slapping her latex cock, "and that's Alex (Macleod)!"

Fionna grabs your balls in a strangle-hold and Moira and Alex take over holding your arms to your sides, as the other two step out to cast aside their cloaks, licking their lips and stroking their own "cocks."

"Meredith (Brooks), Shannon (Doherty), meet Cyber-perv," Moira continues.

Your eyes dart to the faces of the five women that are standing naked in your living room! Your living room! Hot damn! This is a dream come true! Oh, how many times have you masturbated to visions of these five lovelies? Many! Well, at least to visions of Meredith, Alex, and Shannon while watching TV. The other two you could only make up in your own head how they might look! Now here they were! This could only be a good thing... right?

"Permission to ask a question, Fionna," you groan.

She eases her grip on your nuts, "Shoot!"

"How did my ancestors dispatch your Nut-crunchicle?"

The five women exchange glances.

Meredith backhands your cock, hard!

Fionna knees your balls!

"They fucked her to death!"

At the look of abject terror that fills your eyes all five women burst into evil laughter, "Bwahahahahahahahah!"

As the implications of Meredith's statement dawn on you, five women sporting latex cocks and bent on avenging an ancient transgression against one of their own suddenly didn't seem so sexy anymore.

She must have read the consternation in your eyes because Meredith then backhands you across the side of your head. "Tough shit, Cyber-perv! But this is the only way to bring Nut-crunchicle eternal rest!"

Stars explode before your eyes and your head reels. You are only vaguely aware of the women milling about, as hands roughly grab you and lead you to the kitchen table, pushing you face down on it. One of the women is leaning on your back; one elbow digging into your spine and one hand under your hairy ass squeezing your nuts and rolling them against each other.

The shrill of the Highland pipes splits the air as Alex, fumbling with CDs at the player turns, grinning. "Och! Music for the soul, eh, sisters?"

Shannon wipes a tear from her eye. "Ah, Truer words never spoken!"

"Aye! Warms the cockles of me heart!"

"Turn it up! That'll drown out the pig's screams!"

The hand on your nuts squeezes harder and Meredith growls in your ear, "Squeal piggy!"

You gasp out a few half-hearted "oinks" and "soowees".

She grinds her elbow into your back and twists your nuts. "Ye're fuckin' pathetic! But for sure ye'll be squealin' soon!"

Fionna smacks your ass. "Moira, go to his closet and get a few of his ties so that we can lash him down."

You grimace. "Not my Garcia ties, please", and manage to turn your head to look across the table where you come eye to "eye" with Shannon's "cock". She has two black-lacquered fingers slid behind the dildo and into her glistening womanhood. She is diddling herself.

"Mmmmm, I want him to suck my dick!" she winks one blue eye at you.

Alex is opening and shutting kitchen cabinets. She opens the fridge and pulls out a six pack of TsingTao beer, "Look at this shit! He drinks slope piss-water." She cracks open a beer and downs about half of it in one draught. "Yuck! Pretentious yuppie puke."

Alex opens more beers and hands them around as Moira comes skipping out of the back hallway with a handful of silk Gucci ties.

Moira is bubbling over with excitement, "Hey guys! Y'all should come back here and see this! I think we ought to have a little fun with him first!"

While maintaining a strangle-hold on your testicles with one hand, Meredith grabs a fistful of hair with the other, jerks you upright and starts to manhandle you down the hall, Moira leading the way with Shannon, and Alex and Fionna trailing behind, drinking beer and giggling conspiratorially.

Moira pulls up short. "Ta Da!" She gestures towards the bedroom.

The other four women and you exchange puzzled looks.

"Eh?"

"Up here, sillies!" Moira leaps to grab the chinning-bar mounted in your bedroom doorway where she swings like a chimp jacked up on crystal Meth, her "cock" waggling obscenely.

Moira jumps down, blue eyes flashing. "This is goin' to be fun!"

"Grand idea!" Meredith positions you in the doorway. "Arms up!" The women use a couple of your ties to bind your wrists to the chinning bar.

You stand trembling, your scrotum shriveling in terror as your testicles try to seek refuge within your body. Your limp dick withdraws into itself.

"Ahh, look it! 'Mr. Turtle' is hiding", Shannon coos, tweaking your dick. She grabs your hips, and squats down to let her tongue flick across your flaccid member. As your cock rises to the occasion she sucks on the head, her azure eyes smiling up at you. The women cheer and jeer.

With your cock fully erect and oozing pre-cum she runs her tongue up the underside of your cock, stands to step back, "Mmmm, isn't that better?"

"Much!" Alex says. "Now let's beat his balls!"

"Yesss!" hisses Moira, hoping up and down, hardly able to contain her excitement.

"Sure fun is fun, sisters," Fionna drawls behind you, "but let's not forget the real business for our being here."

You stiffen as you feel the tip of her latex cock tentatively pressing at your butt crack. "No... please don't..." you whimper.

"Looky!" Meredith exclaims as she returns from the kitchen, swinging a broom as her ancestors wielded a basket-hilted claymore. "A spreader-bar!" She lightly taps your nuts with the end of the broom stick causing you to lurch backwards against Fionna's "cock".

"EEEEEEK!" you squeal.

"A bit too long though, ain't it?"

"We only need about two, three feet..."

"So let's break it off over his head!"

"Nah! I want him conscious for what he is about to suffer."

As this girly banter is being exchanged, Moira slips away to the front of the house. She enters the garage where she picks up a hammer, handsaw, and a couple of large nails. She returns after first stopping to turn up the pipes music a wee bit.

"Here." She hands the saw to Shannon.

Fionna grabs the broom from Meredith. "Hm, we need a way to hold this while we saw it down to size..." She casts a sidelong look at you, and a cruel smile plays across her lips. The other women follow her glance and they all start to laugh!

Fionna works up a mouthful of saliva and spits on the end of the broom stick then, swiftly and without warning, she jams it into your ass!

You shriek! Tears filling your eyes, you thrash against your restraints until Meredith's firm hand calms you down by squeezing your balls. While Fionna holds the broom stick firmly in your ass, Shannon uses the saw to cut it off at about three feet in length.

Even with Meredith's death-grip on your testes and tears of pain running down your cheeks, you sigh in relief when Fionna pulls the spreader-bar from your rectum.

Alex and Moira squat down to tie off the ends of the bar securely to your ankles.

Shannon reaches over your shoulder with a pair of your soiled boxer shorts that she stuffs into your mouth. Fionna secures this make-shift ball-gag with another one of your ties wrapped around your head.

Your eyes bug in abject terror as Moira advances on you with the hammer and nails. Sweat, tears, and snot stream down your face.

Moira stands before you and stares searchingly into your eyes. Searching for what? She smiles, winks and drops to her knees!

OH MY GOD, you try to scream through the soiled cotton, NOT MY BALLS!

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

You look down to see Moira hammering the nails into either side of the doorframe. She then secures your ankles to the nails with two more of your ties.

"Hey! Now that's using your head, girl!

"Way to go, li'l sister!"

"Excellent!"

Moira stands and rubs the cold, steel hammerhead against your balls. "Now we gotchya right how I wantchya!"

Meredith nudges her aside. "Me first!" She squints at you, slowly drawls, "I'm gonna knee your nuts!"

Your plaintive cries for mercy are swallowed by the cotton gag.

"HeeYah!" her knee flies up towards your crotch! You buck in your bindings! But she stops just short of slamming your balls. Her eyes flash! "Maybe next time!" she giggles.

SCRUNCH!

Shannon's booted foot swings up between your legs from behind to smash your testicles between her foot and your body!

You convulse, screaming into the gag!

Meredith grasps your shoulders and pile-drives her knee into your balls!

You retch, the wind knocked out of you! Behind the excruciating pain is the fear that you are going to drown on your own vomit. You choke it back down. The pain in your groin throbbing up through your abdomen. You want nothing more than to curl up on the floor, clutching yourself. You hang in your restraints, crying and sniffling, incapacitated by the agony that radiates from your battered manhood.

"Hot damn, girls! That had to hurt, eh?" beams Alex.

"I dunno, let's ask him." Fionna pries the gag from your mouth and you suck air!

"How'd that feel?"

All that you can do is whimper, moan and weakly shake your head.

"Did it hurt your little ballies?"

"Would you like another?"

"No," you manage to croak, "please... no more..."

"Oh, but Alex, Moira and Fionna haven't had their turns yet."

"No, please..." you sob. "I'm beggin' for mercy... I'll do anything... my balls can't take anymore..."

"Sure they can," Moira says as she steps in front of you. "Testicles are tough little organs." She wraps one little hand around the neck of your nuts pulling down on your scrotum and stretching your rapidly swelling testicles away from your body. "It's you that can't handle anymore."

As Moira is holding your balls, you feel Fionna's hands on your hips and the head of her "dick" pushing between your butt cheeks to press against your anus. You start to jabber away, again begging for mercy.

Fionna rocks forward on the balls of her feet and the "cock" enters you. You scream! You arch your back as Fionna slides it in even deeper, and then pulls it back. In and out, in and out, working up a rhythm.

Your screams are drowned by the shrill of the pipes.

Fionna is pounding your entrails.

Moira yanks sharply down on your nuts. She balls up her other fist and swings a round-house upper-cut solidly into the underside of your trapped balls!

Your world explodes in pain!

You scream!

You puke!

You pass out!

Hanging limply.

You awake to feel Alex lapping at your swollen and sore man-eggs. You are afraid to open your eyes. But you hear a soothing voice, and the rough tongue feels weird on your tight nut-sac.

You halfway open one eye to see that it is your cat that is licking your balls! And it is Elvira yammering away on the TV!

"What the...!" You bolt upright, arms and legs flailing! Only to roll on to your side as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. Your ass is on fire! You reach behind you to feel a candle sticking out of your ass. You yank it free and toss the taper to the floor.

You are naked from the waist down. Your nut-sac is swollen the size of a grapefruit. Your hands, unfettered, gently touch your tender testes. Your asshole throbs with pain.

You look around. No blue eyed, raven haired Celtic women. No cloaks. No Druids. No strap-on dildos. No ties. Nothing.

"Holy shit!" You rub your hands over your face, wiping away the cold sweat. "It was just a dream..."

You shudder, "More like a nightmare."

You turn down the TV and stagger into the kitchen where you see the five empty Chinese beer bottles, "Geez! No wonder I passed out and had such a weird dream."

You shake your head thinking about how realistic that dream was. A shudder runs up your spine.

You grab the last TsingTao and waddle back to the couch, failing to notice as you pass it by, the CD of Highland pipe music left in the player.

The Hunt

By nutcracker sweet (part 1-2)

With one foot up on the log, I stoop to finish lacing up my moccasin-boot. Finely tanned doe-skin boots up to my knees. Over these, for sturdiness with stealth, a pair of low moccasins made from stout bull-hide. I stand and turn to you, standing there hunched over with your balls clamped in the Humbler, naked save the studded leather dog collar around your neck.

I chuckle. "You really want to go through with this? Sixty minutes to unload fifty rounds into your gorgeous gonads? Piece of cake!"

I adjust the crotch of my cut-off Levis. My cut-off Levis are a bucolic fashion style known in rural America as "Daisy Dukes": so short that half my ass is hanging out and the inseam rides right up into my crotch accenting my mons veneris. I am wearing the key to the lock that secures the Humbler hanging from a silver ring that is pierced through one erect nipple. Around my slim hips I buckle on a wide kilt-belt with a large silver buckle of Celtic design. From this belt I hang a simple leather sporran. I am wearing a man's white shirt, tied up under my breasts calypso-style and unbuttoned down to reveal what little cleavage I have. I roll up the sleeves. I wrap a Confederate flag bandanna around my head, and tie it off.

"Don't be so sure of yourself. You'll be able to move faster but I'm like a wild Indian in the woods!" you boast.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter noncommittally. I pick up the box of paint-ball capsules and dump them out into the sporran. I pick up the paint-ball gun and commence to load it with ammo from the sporran. I hold one of the fluorescent-orange capsules up to you, "Hunter orange for safety's sake! Don't want some poachers thinking your Bambi and blowing you away." I fire one directly at you and it explodes on your chest, "See?"

"OW! Dammit!" your attempt to wipe the paint away only succeeds in smearing it. You wipe your hands on your thighs.

"Here, put these on!" I toss you a pair of clear goggles.

"Two minutes, Moira, you gotta at least give me two minutes head start."

As you are adjusting the goggles on your head, I step behind you and squeeze the trigger twice, in rapid succession. "Clock's ticking!" Two more paint-balls explode on you. One on your taut ass, and the other one directly on your testicles, which sends you off, down the trail, whooping and cussing me.

"Forty-seven shots to go!" I holler at your retreating back. I burst into laughter at the absurd view of your paint-smeared body waddling away.

Needledick departs as fast as he can, which is not very... due to the Humbler. As apprehension and adrenaline take Needledick into the forest, the last thing on his mind is much hope of getting into her cut-off Levis’ what with his balls locked in the Humbler. So, the excitement for Needledick is if he makes his wily escape he gets a big adrenaline buzz, but if he should fall victim to the wilier Huntress then Needledick gets a huge testosterone whack and some divine surrender in his humiliation.

"Wait a minute," Needledick leers hopefully, "Mmmh, maybe by then the Huntress might be horny from the chase."

Needledick loses himself for a moment in a stream of consciousness, with the awareness of his paint-spattered nuts standing out like dogs balls. Off, quicker than either Needledick, or the Huntress, thought possible and doing huge work on those nuts as they get stretched beyond reason. Every step is like one of Moira's nut-cracking ball-squeezes.

Needledick thinks, "Even if you don't catch up with me, I’ll be sore for days." Now this is your country, and Needledick doesn't know this country. Of course, he doesn't stay on the trail.

As soon as I am out of view, you move up hill. You drop to your knees to crawl through the brush, which proves to be a bit more comfortable than running with the Humbler, despite the awareness of your very exposed testicles caused by the cool forest breeze. You go for the high ground to seek a view for the creeks or rivers and the best low ground for cover. Your course must be quickly chosen, as you sort of knew Moira would be a bit eager for the chase and that you would be lucky to a minute and a half start. You are crawling through the underbrush, the branches raking your naked body.

"Hell's bells! Guys will do anything if they think there is a chance to get into a girl's pants" I idly scratch my ass and then replace the spent rounds, "Needledick's going to be soooo sorry, I almost feel sorry for him... almost. Even if he makes it the whole hour he's going to be in no condition to get it up." I smile at the thought of your balls, swollen purple and sore, under a thick coat of orange paint.

I pull out my pocket watch and check the time, "Fuck it! Close enough!" I reach behind the log to retrieve a strap-on dildo, which I tuck into the back of my belt. I step off into the palmettos to walk a line that runs obliquely to the trail down which you ran. Just like deer hunting with daddy. One step, two steps, three steps. Stop! Freeze! Nothing moves but my eyeballs; right to left, left to right. I take three more cautious steps and freeze. Again nothing moves but my eyes, right to left, left to right. This is how I continue to make my way slowly through the pine scrubs of central Florida. The small flock of scrub-jays takes to wing just about the same time that I hear the crashing sounds through the underbrush up on the rise. HAH! Heading for the high ground (all of about 28' above sea level), as most outsiders do, not being used to the abject flatness of this state. I smile as I recall your boast that you are just like a wild Indian in the brush. Yeah, right, if that Injun happens to be a drunken, one-eyed, half-breed!

I now move with more deliberation, but just as cautiously. My eyes focused on a spot in the brush about halfway between the ground in front of my feet and the spot where I heard all your noise. Peripheral vision tends to catch movement in the woods better than straight on sight does. Steadily towards the top of the rise, I carefully place my steps in the soft sugar sand or pine mat of the forest floor. Closer, I can smell you; the funk of sweat, fear, paint, lust and manly musk. You are on the other side of that big clump of palmettos. I can hear your labored breathing and your nervous fidgeting. I drop to a squat and slowly duck-walk around the brush.

There you are, looking back whence ye came! Not more than six feet away from you I take aim; your balls make an easy target! The first two shots are direct hits! Another shot explodes on your shoulder spraying the side of your face with the bright orange paint, and the next three pellets fly harmlessly passed you as you fall to the ground thrashing in your restraints! Not one to give up easily, and even with the nauseating pain radiating from your nuts, you quickly react by hooking your legs out, knocking my own feet out from under me. I crash flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me. Stunned, I work at not panicking so that my diaphragm will resume its normal rhythm. But I hear you crashing away through the palmettos and pines, so I scramble to sit up and fire off a few more shots at you! One hits your thigh, one hits your nuts and the rest pepper the brush on either side of you as you limp away, gasping through gritted teeth.

I roll to my hands and knees gasping as my breathing returns. I climb out of the sand to my feet, a wee bit shaky. Hands on knees I take breaths, slow and deep. "Shit!" I mutter, "Gotta admire the peckerhead's tenacity!"

I look the way you went. "But you're gonna pay for that!" I holler after you. "You hear me, Needledick?" roars the crazy woman in the woods "Your balls are mine!" I rub a hand across my face, "Here I come, lover boy!" Stepping out in long strides I take off after you. Kind of like tracking a wounded deer, but instead of a blood trail I can follow the splatterings and drippings of paint. Of course, that's not necessary because the path you've left in your wake by crashing blindly through the bracken and bramble is distinct enough that even Stevie Wonder could follow you!

Throwing caution to the wind, I pick up the pace, reloading as I walk. But wait! I stop and listen to the deathly silence. This wily fucker is not to be underestimated. This trail is too obvious; maybe it’s being done by design. Or is it? I shake my head. Damn, girl, that fall rattled your brain, he's just a dumb-ass city boy running scared! Now go get him! Right! I start off in hot pursuit! Wondering aloud, "Where are you, Needledick? What are you doing? What are you thinking?"

-Needledick-

Now where is the water? First question I ask as it was not visible from the heights of 28 feet above sea level. Would you believe it? There is a large creek nearby and I can now smell it. My old Boy Scout training tells me that all I need do is follow any incline downhill, no matter how slight and I will find water.

You know this scrub better than I do and can guess where I'm heading. So in hot pursuit you catch sight of me on an embankment above a creek of about three or four feet deep and say six feet wide. I am aware of you behind me; although you are quiet I can smell you.

As you take aim, you haven't seen anything like the long arc of an effortless dive before unless it was a dolphin leaping through hoops at Sea World. Adjusting your aim you shoot. Ouch! I feel a stinging hit to my nuts, a prominent target due to that Humbler and the curve in the dive and the snap of the body to cause my body to disappear into the water through the one point of entry with scarcely a ripple. That Humbler is going causing me no little grief...

But where have I gone? You stand on the bank scanning the creek, one hand on your hip, resting the paintball gun in the other. One cheek of your ass thrust out of your Daisy Dukes, exposed from the pursuit. A look of intense concentration on your face. You do not intend to let me escape. 15-20 minutes have now passed and you have scored several direct hits. How many rounds do you have left? Plenty!

I swim underwater quickly, using dolphin kicks only, for more than a minute which takes me almost 60 yards downstream. I land on the same side of the creek as you, as I think that you won't expect that. However, you have raced downstream, assuming I headed that way. I am just standing up when you spy me. I am down a few yards from you, standing ankle deep in the water.

You sneak into position quietly, and then let fly. One shot hits my goggles. I can not see anything except orange. Now you have me! You are above me in a perfect ambush! Hit after direct hit to my balls! As I turn to try protecting them you just move to follow the line of fire. As blindly I rotate you empty the best part of 30 rounds into my gonads!

You must be getting a bit bored with these easy hits, akin to shooting fish in a barrel.

I am feeling like a man suspended by his nuts, rotating slowly in the breeze as you have your target practice. Are you growing bored? Is this too easy? What do you do next?

-Moira-

I continue to squeeze off rounds as I crash through the brush, down the embankment, and break into the open along the "crick" bed. I stride up to you, jaw set, nostrils flaring, turn the gun end over end and slam the butt of the gun squarely into your balls!

"There, you sonofabitch! That's for knocking me on my ass!" I growl through clenched teeth, as you slump over, the color blanching from your usual ruddy, though now paint-splattered, face. You sink to your knees, sputtering and groaning.

"So you like to play rough, do ye?" You roll on to your side when I kick your ribs a couple of times. "Alright, you macho asshole, let's play rough!"

Cussing you out as I jam the last of the paint ball pellets into the gun. "I am sooo pissed at you, Needledick! I wanted to behave like the genteel Southern belle that I'm supposed to be, and now you've got me acting like a savage!" I kick your balls! You curl up like an armadillo, rocking and groaning.

I step back and begin to unload the gun at point blank range. Paint pellets stinging you as they explode across your head, shoulders back, ass, and of course, your balls! O' yes, I concentrate most of my remaining firepower on to your balls!

Your body is quivering and quaking as you roll in the wet sand. I finally notice the blood streaming down your chin because you have bitten down onto your bottom lip.

"Bwahhahahaha!" I laugh evilly, "That's right! You don't scream when a woman is giving your testes a goin' over, do you? Matter of some twisted, warped sense of pride, I suppose..." My booted foot connects with your testicles again. You make gurgling sounds behind your bloody lips, but nothing audible as a scream.

I drop to my knees. With one hand I viciously squeeze your gonads, digging my nails into your ball-meat. With the other hand I grab your hair to jerk your head up so that I can glare into your eyes.

"But you'll scream today, Needledick!" I twist and grind your nuts against each other. "Before we leave these woods today, you will scream for mercy! Beg for it, you will!" My eyes stare deeply into yours, searching for the agony and terror that I know is there. Seeing the pain and fear, I let go of your hair to backhand you across your face, and I stand up.

Breathing heavy, I retreat to a cypress stump to sit down where I remove my belt setting it and the strap-on dildo aside. I undo my cut-off Levis, wriggling them down my firm legs and off over my boots.

I get up and advance on you with my belt. I secure it around your chest and arms to pinion your elbows to your sides. By a handful of your hair I pull your face tight against my bare crotch. "You coulda been frolicking in here, if you'd been nicer." I push you over backwards. "But now things are going to play out a lot different."

Next I readjust your harness so that your hands are now secured tightly at your hips. With one hand full of your balls and one of your hair. I yank you to your feet and half drag you over to the cypress stump, pushing you back down on your knees and face down across the stump. Your balls swollen purple even through the orange paint, your body trembling.

"Stay like that!" I give your nuts a half-hearted kick. "Ever seen the movie, Deliverance?" I ask, picking up the strap-on. I fumble with the straps to get the latex 'cock' into place. "Well, you're gonna get to play Ned Beatty's part!"

I kick your ankles far apart, and kneel down between them. I work up a mouthful of saliva, spit it into my hand, rub it on the head of my 'dick' and jam the tip of the dildo against your puckered asshole. You make a funny little chirping sound.

"I wanna hear you squeal like a pig, boy!" I whisper into your ear, as I push the dildo deeper into you!

"C'mon, boy! Squeal!" You grunt, like a little piggy, but no squeal. I wrap my arms around your waist so that my hands can grasp your withered cock and I pull you back as I push my hips forward, working up a rhythm, while giving your cock a two-handed massage. Soon my own 'cock' is impaling your entrails and my sweaty groin is pounding your balls as I rape your ass!

But not so much as just little grunts and groans out of you.

Harder I rape your ass! Furiously pounding away, using your cock to control the rhythm and depth of my savage thrusts! I can feel your nuts splaying flat between me and the wood of the Humbler! Man, that's gotta hurt! But still, no scream from you!

I slump across your back as I cum in an explosive orgasm. I pull my 'cock' out of you, stand up and step around in front of you. I slap your face with the shit-smeared dick.

"Suck it!" I order. I reach over your shoulder to punch your nuts, "Suck it, I said!"

Return to Mudville

By nutcracker sweet

PROLOGUE

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!

PART 1

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.

PART 2

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.