Knockout

Knockout

By Preunbb

*

“Time’s up, Dennis! We’ve got self defense scheduled now.”

Dennis turned to the shrill voice coming from the blonde minx at the door, a headache forming as he tried to ignore it and continue reffing the bout between his boys. They had the place booked until 5, and the clock on the gym wall clearly read 4:05.

Every week, Serena tried to get her class started just a little earlier than last, cutting off the last 10 minutes he used for helping his young boxers cool off. She always walked in like she owned the place, like her female self defense class was the most important cause in the whole world. Like her midriff-baring sports bra and too-short booty shorts and intimate knowledge of male anatomy allowed her to walk over him.

It was ridiculous. Hell, the whole concept was ridiculous. Female self defense? Dennis wasn’t a sexist, but these feminists just needed to get realistic. He wasn’t in peak physical condition, and even he could clock her cold in one punch. Not that he would, of course. But he knew there was a good reason they kept boys and girls separate in boxing: the boys had a huge strength advantage over the women. It wouldn’t even be fair.

“Hey, asshole, did you hear me? You’re five minutes over!”

The blonde was in front of him now, as he tried to rein his thoughts in. He looked down at her, startled by the view her plunging neckline and his extra foot of height provided. She scowled as she followed his eyeline to her cleavage, and crossed her arms angrily over her modest bosom.

“Don’t make me use what we teach the girls in our class on you!”

Her class giggled. Dennis kept cool at the thinly-veiled threat, but Serena saw the shine of uncertainty in his eye. Her scowl turned to an evil grin.

“Trust me, they’d would be very eager to finally get the practical demonstration I’ve been promising them.” She drew closer to him, standing on her tiptoes so they were almost eye to eye, and stuck her tongue out to the side, mocking deep thought. “Let’s see, if I remember my lesson plan, this week’s session is about...Knees to the groin?”

One of her posse chimed in. “Isn’t that every session, Ms. Jackson?” The blonde

paused and put on an exaggerated frown, as if she hadn’t considered that, then shrugged. “Well, we do more than knees. Squeezes, stomps, punches, heel stomps, back stomps, partial rupture, total rupture...I like to go through every topic in every session. No telling how much of that we’d be able to get through with your balls, but I’m sure the girls would love to see a real example of even just a few of our class’s techniques.”

Dennis turned pale, then red with fury, as the knockout gorgeous fighter in front of him casually went on. “Really, Dennis, don’t you want to have children someday? Don’t you want to continue your genetic line? It’s insipid to risk all that just to steal 5 minutes of class time from me. Think this over. You’re a good looking guy, but you’re being an asshole, and I’d hate to have to damage-” her emphasis eliciting another giggle from the female half of the spectators “-you just so you can understand how to read a fucking schedule.”

He couldn’t listen to a word out of the bitch’s mouth. He jabbed his finger angrily in her face.

“Listen here, we’re scheduled until-”

Urk

Her left hand moved up whip-fast and grabbed his pointer finger, bending his arm around and nearly breaking his knuckle. Pain shot up his arm as he stumbled over. It hurt, but not more than his first broken nose. He roared from the pain and swung at her with his free hand.

Huc

She was even faster with her leg.

Her knee shot up between his, and he saw the impact before he felt it. His hand continued its trajectory, but with less than his total power. Serena stumbled back at the impact, her aim misaligned so she just grazed his left testicle, smushing it into his leg and twisting it around on his cords painfully. He tries to suppress the sudden nausea as that awful nutpain shot up, growing and constricting his thoughts as his vision blurred.

The crowd gasped, and Serena drew her leg back and brought her hand up to her mouth in horror. Behind her, students started whispering frantically, on both sides of the gymnasium.

“...Holy shit she actually got him, I thought she was just bluffing…”

“I swear I heard something crunch from him down there. That can’t be good, right?”

“....You know she’s actually castrated guys before, right? Like, ACTUALLY! I swear, I heard it from my sister…”

“Coach Wise, are you ok? Do you need ice, or an ambulance, or…”

Serena stretched a hand out to help him up. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to actually hurt you, I just wanted to scare you a bit!” She bit her lip guiltily, ineffectively hiding her smirk. “I didn’t mean to actually break anything down there. Is...anything broken?”

“I’m...fine.” Dennis whimpered, his shrill tone reassuring not even himself. He waddled off to the bathroom, trying to block out the cries of concern and sympathetic cooing from the crowd outside, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his head and guts and hand and balls all screaming in pain.

In the handicap stall, he unbuckled his belt and gently pulled his boxers and jeans off. He took great care not to jostle his painful jewels as he gently stretched the elastic over them, squealing harshly when his hand slipped and the underwear waistband snapped into his sack.

He’d thought her knee barely brushed his genital, but that didn’t square with what he saw between his legs. His left ball was purple and twice the size of its brother. He probed it gently between his thumb and forefinger, being as delicate as he could. The fat lump of flesh in his hand was sore, and he could’ve swore the bottom of it had slightly more give to it than the rest, but he optimistically told himself it was just his imagination. The thought of her knee connecting with the force and angle she’d meant it to crossed his mind, and he let out an involuntary shudder. An impact like that would have completely pulverized his nuts; he was lucky to be getting away with a relative minor injury.

His phone vibrated. Dennis struggled to push the gleefully sympathetic face of the blonde out of his mind as he tapped on the message from his girlfriend. A picture from below of a red-furred vulva greeted him, its owner coyly keeping her breasts in the shot but her face out of it.

Come home from boxing early, I’ve been waiting for you all day :*

Fuck his aching ballsack, fuck the girl that caused it, and fuck this whole volunteer community class. Kayleigh had taken every opportunity today to remind him that she was home alone, extremely bored, and barely clothed. It wasn’t easy keeping his mind on work when his phone got a constant stream of new and interesting angles of her naked body.

Another photo appeared, this one with her bent over and her tight butt up in the air. Her delicious shorthaired pussy was just barely peeking out between her freckled legs. He wasn’t happy giving up the space their class reserved, but he didn’t have the energy or the balls to fight it anymore. He couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.

He staggered up, hoping that the slight reduction in pain wasn’t just his hopeful imagination. He was sure his nut worked fine.

At least, he could tell that his cock did.

When he stepped out of the locker room, the boys were gone. The clock read a smidge past 4:30; he’d been nursing his balls in the bathroom a lot longer than he thought. The women who had kicked them out were scattered around the locker room doors in a semicircle, rather than the neat lines they normally formed. In front of the group was a tall dusky Asian girl, almost the same height as Dennis. She was wearing a tight-fitting high school gym shirt that read GO HUSKIES 2009, and her ample breasts and tight body filled it out perfectly. She didn’t have his bulging biceps or six-pack, but it was obvious that she’d put work into herself, and she had the easy grace of someone who was comfortable with ending a confrontation physically.

“So, I think we can both agree earlier wasn’t really a fair fight.” Her voice was smooth and confident, a upward lilt on fair the only indication she found the incident amusing. “Serena felt awful for the knee, but we all saw that you barely got hit. Here’s our offer: Your students are gone, so your class is obviously over. But as an apology for hurting you, we’ll share the space with you. A fight between you and me fulfills both our goals: I can demonstrate some self defense moves for our class, and you can practice your boxing. You’re ready for a real fight, right?”

Dennis closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose,his other hand still thrust between his legs as if that would help the pain. “You can just have the space already, I don’t want to fight you. I’m heading out.” He stumbled forward, his knees bent inward, trying futilely to keep some scrap of dignity.

The girls let out a groan of disappointment, and their champion raised her left eyebrow and frowned pityingly. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize just how bad Serena kneed you. She must’ve gotten you in the nuts REAL bad. You’re right, you should definitely head out immediately. Get a professional to take a look at those.” She met his eyes, and despite her tone of worry, her eyes were filled with mirth. “Are both of them popped? Or do you think one of them still works?”

There was a smattering of giggles at his expense. Like neutering a guy was the most hilarious thing in the world.

Dennis’ face burned as he almost choked on his rage. Enough of this. These girls need to be taught a lesson already. They couldn’t treat him like this. He was Dennis Fucking Wise. He’d knocked Joe Altacounte out cold in ‘02, had an undefeated 10-0 record in winter of ‘06, gotten golden gloves at the age of 21. He was a fighter, and he knew what he was doing. He could take this underfed big-titted social justice warrior girl.

“Fine.” He stood up straight, the agony of his shifting ballsack driving his temper higher. “Let’s go. You, me, the ring. Whatever ruleset you want, whatever fight you want. Let’s get this over with already.”

Her grin returned. “Sounds good to me. I’ll give you a minute to head back to the bathroom and get prepared.”

She stepped closer to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth from her smooth tawny skin and smell her mild but distinctly feminine scent. “You’ll need to put your cup on, right?”

He turned in a huff and walked back gingerly to the locker room. He once again got undressed gently, and sat splay-legged on the bench as he dug through his gym bag for his rarely-used cup, his balls puddling out onto the cold lacquered wood. In boxing, all of the boys were very careful about not hitting each other in the groin so he hardly ever used the cup, but Dennis had a feeling his new opponent didn’t feel similarly.

He found the hard plastic cup at the bottom of his bag. It smelled faintly of ball sweat and old plastic. The black NuttyBuddy fit him snugly but comfortably...on a good day. But it was not a good day; As Dennis eyeballed the mismatched lumps of manflesh between his legs, he knew he’d never manage to fit all of himself into it without risking some severe crushing or pinching of his very sensitive bits. The cup looked miniscule next to his bloated, lopsided scrotum.

his phone buzzed again, and this time his girlfriend’s sweet perky nipples stared back, standing at attention, her breasts forming the background of the photo like gently rolling goosebumped hills. “Huuurrryyyyyy”, read the accompanying message. “I need someone to warm these up :(”

He shoved the cup back into his bag and pulled his pants up. This fight would be over too soon to worry about this. He wasn’t getting suckerkneed this time. Without the element of surprise, this girl didn’t stand a chance. One punch is all it would take to knock her out cold and be on his way home to his ginger nympho girlfriend.

On cue, another picture. This one needed no message. She was on the bed, using the mirror at the foot of it to get a perfect angle for the shot of her spread legs and the delicious pink pussy between. Her hand that wasn’t holding the camera was pressing into her clit, as she pleasured herself without blocking his view.

His cock stiffened in his pants. One solid hit is all he’d need. He swung the door open to the cheering crowd.

Pinned

Erica leaned back against the ropes, awaiting her opponent. She’d done her best to project her ballbusting inner goddess that Serena always taught her class about. “Look the part, be the part” was her motto: If you acted like you had no problem cracking a couple of testicles like walnuts, chances are that the boys would be so scared of you, you wouldn’t even have to use the brutal self defense techniques at all.

And it had almost worked! But her last little barb had pushed the coach over the edge, and now he was calling her bluff. She knew it was stupid; she didn’t have to rub his face in his own defeat like that. But he just looked so damn cute when he was fuming at her.

Oh well. She’d never had the chance to fight a boy before, but she sure wasn’t going to be using any of the techniques they’d learned in this class. With his cup on, ballbusting wouldn’t be particularly effective, and of course Serena’s lesson plan never once deviated from her laser-sharp focus on testicular pain and destruction. Still, it was good to know; if he got fresh with her, she could hit him hard enough for him to feel it through his cup.

Dennis climbed over the rope, and Erica noted how he carefully avoided twanging the tightly-pulled cord into his crotch. Even with protection, boys were so protective of their genitals. His paranoia would make this fight a piece of cake.

“And...GO!”

The bell rang, and they went.

Once in the ring, her opponent seemed to remember that his balls were safe. He would never have stood with his legs so spread apart, his crotch completely undefended and bulging out unnecessarily, if it wasn’t a distraction tactic. Erica knew that he must’ve thought he was invulnerable between the legs, with that stiff, unfair piece of plastic completely protecting his biggest weakness.

Except...It wasn’t completely protected. With her musculature and Serena’s training, Erica had the strength to hurt boys even through steel cups, as a number of volunteer “rapists” for their class discovered the hard way. On the one occasion a training participant had worn a plastic cup, she’d split the thing in half, causing an enormous amount of distress for the poor boy and compelling her to cover the hospital stay for his surgeries (Purely out of sympathy, of course; the legal waivers volunteers signed was quite extensive).

Of course, none of her roughhousing in gym compared to the damage she had inflicted on her former beau, who wasn’t lucky enough to have any protection...

She couldn’t think about awful night. Not right now. With a cup protecting him, she definitely wasn’t strong enough to inflict permanent damage, but she could rattle him. Maybe give him a more direct hit than the one Coach landed, and really show him what a girl’s knee to the balls can do.

He swung and she barely sidestepped the haymaker. For a big guy, he was fast. She feigned a quick knee to the groin. His confident facade cracked, and his eyes grew wide. He must have just realized the plastic cup wouldn’t do shit for protecting him.

But instead of taking the easy route, she swung behind him and booted him in the back of the knee, and one more punch in the stomach as he collapsed.She waited politely for him to stand back, and danced away when he tried to surprise her with a sudden swing. He stumbled and caught his breath, lunging towards her.

It was then that Erica noticed just where he was looking. His eyes were glued to her chest, and she grabbed the strap between her bra cups and yanked it up in a futile attempt to cover up more of her ample bosom. The one she kept at gym was a little too small, but it had never been a problem in the all-girls class before. Pretty hard to care about covering a little boob when you showered naked together.

The big black man across from her was practically salivating though, and without ball hits, she needed every advantage she could get. She brought her fists up in front of her in a mock-boxing gesture, “accidentally” squeezing her tits together with her elbows.

“Awww, not used to getting kicked, because you only know how to use your fists? Or does the below-the-belt rule in boxing go all the way to the ground-”

Whump

His left fist squashed her breasts into her ribcage, and the underqualified bra gave up. Her boobs spilled out as her top burst apart and drifted to the floor, the thin black scrap of fabric beyond repair.

Erica couldn’t focus on her sudden nudity. A tit didn’t hurt like a nut, but it did hurt, and he’d gotten her directly on. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she coughed heavily at the ache in her chest.

But through the pain, she smiled. After all, if he thought boob hits were off limits…

Well, she didn’t need to hold back any more.

She faked being winded, crumpling to the floor. When he leaned over her, she shot up, bringing her knee straight into his groin. Her bony kneecap rocketed into his bulging package. Erica felt it connect with something, but the resistance she’d expect from even a plastic cup wasn’t there.

She must have missed his balls entirely.

She shoved her victim to the ground, prying his legs apart as he gibbered helplessly. She brought her heel up high and grinned. No way could she miss a target this large in this position.

She stomped down, but he rolled away and snapped back up onto his feet at the last minute, visibly shaken but still in control of himself. His slight limp made her realize her first hit hadn’t totally missed, and she wondered why she didn’t collide with his cup. Maybe they’d been kneed up inside of him, and she had actually hit him in the stomach? She hoped not; that would have ended the fight really fast. It would be like cracking a pair of eggs still in the carton.

He barrelled at her, and she pretended to stumble and fall onto her back on the floor. He towered over her, left hook flying towards her-

But his footwork was still sloppy, and hers was perfect. His stance had each of his legs on either side of her, in the perfect position for a hard heel up into his crotch.

She brought her knee up to her chest, then straightened it out and rocketed her bony heel up in between his legs, putting every ounce of strength in her muscular legs into the blow. This time, she felt a piece of some oddly-shaped testicular protection crack. She could feel the outline of his organs through it; it must have been the cup version of those socks with toes. Her thigh extended fully, her incredibly strong leg muscles pushing her heel deep into his crotch and lifting him off his toes entirely. His own weight was now pinning his groin into her heel, and his muscular boxer build only helped increase the pain she was causing. She had sudden flashbacks to that fateful night with her ex.

That night, the argument was about...god, what was it over now? She couldn’t even remember. Not cheating. Not anything even particularly important. But she was furious. She just needed to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

Before her boyfriend could react, she had crammed her knee between his thighs.

She gasped. That had been way before she’d started her training at Serena’s class, back when the only things she knew about his anatomy were the methods used for his pleasure. They’d always been an especially erogenous zone for him: she recalled the way he’d moan when she cupped his large, hairy low hangers with her palms, her lips gently massaging them as he reciprocated with delightful moans of pleasure. It had been clear to her even then, that the male sex organs were extremely sensitive to the slightest touch. The effect of a full force knee must have been unimaginable.

His sweetly sensitive right testicle was trapped between her knee and his unforgiving pelvic bone, and with a gristly squick it had given way to mush. She’d held him as he sobbed on the floor, the blaring doppler of the approaching ambulance drowning out his gibbering.

His other nut had survived that day, but their relationship hadn’t. Even now, her thoughts often wandered to how he coped with the life-changing injury she had dealt him, if he still possessed the manliness he had when he held her in his arms, if he still possessed the masculine scent whenever he exerted himself physically, or if he could still ejaculate without any complications. Or if all of these things had been lessened by half.

She snapped back to reality. His cup was broken, but she needed one more hit. She pulled her foot back and snapped right back into his balls as he was falling, the combined force of her foot and his fall increasing the power of her heel.

Thump-splish.

No more resistance from the cup at all. Not even the jagged plastic splinters that should have been there. The ball of her foot collided with a testicle, but a watery splish was all she got from her heel on the left side. Erica started to put together the pieces with sickening horror.

The poor idiot hadn’t packed a single piece of protection. Those sounds beneath her foot hadn’t come from a fractured cup...

She stood up and let him go, pulled his pants down as he collapsed face-first to the ground.The remains of his manhood almost literally spilled out of his pants. Most of his sack was full of fluid, but his right nut floated among the mush, spongy and damaged but still intact. Her coach’s first kick must have done more damage than they had thought. And the overconfident moron...he thought he could get away without protection. He thought she wouldn’t kick there.

“We’ll get the ambulance, Dennis.” Serena was on the phone, frantically describing the scene to the operator on the other end. Erica sat in front of him and leaned over to offer him comfort, her partial nakedness forgotten.

At least, forgotten by her. As she leaned closer, Dennis’s eyes focused on the perfect rack presented to him. Between the testicular trauma and sexual overload, he lost control. He started spurting wildly, each long streak of cum he emitted bringing staggeringly painful aches in his remaining testicle. The nutcords on his injured side spasmed uselessly, his body trying to pump semen from an organ that no longer existed. He coughed and tried to cover up his soaked shorts as thick white semen gushed through the thin fabric and onto the gym mat.

Erica didn’t have to be a urologist to know that sudden ejaculation wasn’t a good sign for his testicular structural integrity. She patted him on the back and avoided his gaze, pretending like she didn’t notice the congealing, spreading pool of man-juice forming on the vinyl mat below.

“I’m sure it will be fine, Dennis. You’ll be ok with just one testicle. I’m...sure your right ball still works perfectly. You’ll still be able to have sex and have children. I know it.”

She kept cooing little white lies to get him through the pain until the ambulance arrived, trying her best to allow him to peacefully finish what would likely be his final orgasm.

Epilogue

Dennis rubbed his hand over his long, flaccid cock, concentrating with every ounce of willpower on the video on his laptop. His solo testicle joggled up and down in sync with his hand as he tried to coax an orgasm from his limp member. It had been nearly two months since that last boxing session at the gym, and a month since Kayleigh had dumped him for being unable to satisfy her needs. Without a nymphomaniac girlfriend ready to jump his bones at any minute, Dennis had started masturbating again.

He tried to focus on the task at hand, and not focus on how much better it would feel to be pumping his load into that wet red-haired pussy. The video in front of him was nearing its most-viewed part, as the tall black man thrust rhythmically into his screaming Asian partner. Before, Dennis would have focused on the woman: tits jiggling in time with her moans, eyes rolling up and a slight grin crossing her face as his tempo increased and she drew closer to her noisy climax. But Dennis could only focus on the rock-hard erection of his fantasy stand-in. He couldn’t believe he’d always just taken his boner for granted when masturbating; after all, how difficult was it to get hard with some porn, your hand and some lube?

Since his surgery, erections were another fantasy of his. The slightest thickening of his member in his grip was all he could manage. With only one testicle intact, and it in a badly injured condition, the nurse had helpfully informed him that a loss of erectile function could be a side effect of his injury.

The doctors had never managed to fully assess the fertility of his remaining testicle. While at the hospital, they had tried to extract a semen sample from him several times to examine, but his injury made the task impossible (although not for lack of effort on the part of his ‘kind’ doctor). His last nut remained incredibly sensitive, and even the slightest sexual stimulation brought tears of agony as his damaged ball failed to produce anything for her to test. She finally decided to send him home and have him test his fertility when the pain was low enough to masturbate, by himself. In god-blessed peace and solitude.

The mind wrenching agony in his nut finally reduced to a dull ache, where it remained for four weeks before Dennis decided it would likely never go away. So here he was, doing his best to produce some ball juice to prove to himself that he still could. In his former days, two months without orgasm would’ve left him spurting at the slightest touch, but his reduced libido kept his head cool. Not all side effects are necessarily bad, the nurse had said coyly to him.

But increased stamina wasn’t worth much without the hard cock to go with it.

He closed his laptop and lay back, limp cock still in hand. The image of that scene in the gym was burned into his mind. He could see Erica looking up at him, on the ground but with the inarguable upper hand already. His balls aching viciously, knowing there was absolutely no way to cause an equivalent pain to her. He’d wanted to concede, but he took too long to react — She’d had a victorious grin plastered across her face, unaware of the damage she had already done, right before rocketing her foot into what she thought was a hard, protective cup...

He felt a familiar rush surge through him, and his cock twitched. Not an erection, but...something. He gave a few experimental pumps, trying to put his half-castratrix out of his mind. He managed with the effectiveness of a drowning man trying to ignore a nearby boat. Her smooth skin, the breasts that threatened to spill out of that tiny black sports bra (and the revealed dark nipples when they did), that perfectly sculpted bubble butt…

That horrified (or horrifying?) gleam in her eyes when she pulverized his testicle.

The semen forcing itself out from deep inside his agonizing balls, fleeing like lifeboats from the Titanic.

That first sickening crunch when his organ had given way beneath a trained fighter’s knee, and the softer, wet noise of her heel slamming into his crotch when she’d finally popped it for good.

Dennis’s orgasm took him suddenly. He closed his eyes and gasped, fantasies of Erica liquefying his last remaining testicle inexplicably filling his mind. His imagination was so intense he nearly convinced himself she had popped it in reality, and he instinctively grabbed for the solitary organ with his free hand. The nausea and pain that followed contact verified that, indeed, his last testicle was still intact.

Although it remained in one piece, the nurse had cheerily informed him that its ”functionality remained questionable”. When Dennis opened his eyes, he got the stomach-churning answer to that question.

His massive load was plastered all over his sheets, his belly, and his legs. But instead of the thick, opaque cum he produced when he was still a complete man, his spurting had only covered him in a thin liquid. It looked like precum, but felt stickier. He didn’t need a fertility testing kit to know what this meant. It was as clear as water.

That orgasm on the gym mat hadn’t just been the most intense of his life.

It had been his last real load.

Bereavement Counseling

Bereavement Counseling

By Preunbb

Support the author by purchasing their books which are on Amazon, or through their donation portal.

*

Stuart laid back on the therapist’s couch, still feeling too anxious to really relax. It was his first therapy session ever, and he was dreading bringing up the thing that had driven him to book Dr. Karen. But the loss of his testicle had brought about feelings and emotions he’d never had before, and it was starting to seriously impact his life. He knew he needed help.

“So, what brings you into my office, Stuart? Stu or Stuart, which do you prefer?” The attractive older brunette was wearing a hip-hugging black skirt that nearly covered her knees and a professional white blouse. Stuart tried not to look up the crevice between her shapely thighs; he was here for therapy, after all. And that was the exact habit that had led him here in the first place…

“I have some…insecurities that have come up recently,” he said awkwardly. She raised an eyebrow.

“What kind of insecurities?”

“About my body. And my…manliness.”

Karen nodded. “I understand why you booked my office. I specialize in male dysphoria, insecurities, and bodily integrity disorder. When did you start feeling this way?”

“It started when I lost one of my testicles, in an accident,” he blurted out.

The words hung in the air like a bad smell. Karen was silent for several seconds.

“Oh. I see.” He heard her scribbling something down.

“Um. Well,” she collected herself, and perked back up professionally. “I can definitely help you out. Why don’t you walk me through what happened, and how it’s affected you?”

“Well, I feel like less of a man —”

“Of course you do, dear, but let’s take a step back. Start from the beginning — when did this happen? How did this happen?”

He took a deep breath. “It was about two months ago. I was at a bar, and there was this really hot girl. I was, you know…checking her out, and I think she caught me.”

“Ah. So, when she realized you were harassing her, she popped one of your testicles?”

“I — no, I wasn’t harassing her, I was just looking at her. She made eye contact and smiled, and I thought she was into it — I walked up to her, and when I got close, I guess her friend got behind me and grabbed my arms, and she —”

“Reached into your pants and dug her thumb into your ball until it popped like a grape?”

“No, she —”

“Kicked you as hard as she possibly could with her high heel?”

“No!”

“Was it a punch? I've seen uppercuts pin them right against the boy's pelvis, and they just —”

“NO!!”

“A knee?”

Stuart didn’t respond.

“It was a knee, then.” More scribbling.

“Yeah. She kneed me.” His voice was a squeak. “I tried to get free, but her friend was really strong, and she just — put her hands on my shoulders and kneed me, over and over and over again, until I felt it pop. I…I think I passed out after that, and when I came to, I was curled up on the floor, and my balls hurt more than I’d ever felt in my life. I went home —”

“Not the hospital?” She sounded surprised.

“I think I was trying to pretend it hadn’t happened.”

“Surely, you couldn’t pretend once you saw the state of your scrotum, right? I assume you checked your balls for damage as soon as you got home?”

“...No, I didn’t,” he said, trying to keep the shame out of his voice. “I…They hurt so much, I didn’t even want to touch them. And I was hoping the pain would just go away on its own, I guess. I’ve been kneed in the nuts before. It always fades, eventually.”

“But this time it didn’t get better, did it?” Could he hear a hint of amusement in her voice? He finally looked up from the floor to make eye contact, but she was just looking down her glasses at her notepad, scribbling away professionally.

“No. It got worse, and worse. I tried to sleep it off, but I kept tossing and turning, and I could feel…like, every time I moved, I swear I could feel it getting worse and worse. By the next morning — ”

“You waited until the next morning to seek treatment?!”

“...Yeah.” He winced at the shock in her voice. That’s how the doctor sounded when he'd told her.

“Most men don’t wait a whole night to get a ruptured testicle treated, you know. I mean, I do understand the trauma you’d undergone — I just wanted to let you know, from a medical standpoint, that was definitely not a smart decision.”

“Yeah. Well. I know that now.”

“Sorry, sorry. Just something to keep in mind for next time. Go on.”

Next time?!

“The emergency room doctors told me they could’ve saved it even two or three hours ago. She had ruptured it, but most of the…insides, were still, uh. Inside. But she’d cracked my ball badly, and they’d started to sort of…I don’t know, leak out. Unspool. Whatever. Every time I’d moved, I’d been pushing a little more of my fertility out. Apparently.” Stuart was near tears.

“So, it must’ve been a relief to finally get it, you know —” She held up two fingers like scissors, and finally made eye contact with him. “Snipped off.”

“It…no, it wasn’t a relief! I mean, from the pain, yeah. But now I’m like…half a man, or something. And I can’t stop thinking about it. How easily she killed one of my balls. Popped it like a grape. I keep thinking — does she know what she did? Was it on purpose? She just didn’t like the way I looked at her and decided I needed to lose half of my sperm count for life?

“Or does she not know? Like, was it just an accident? Obviously I know she kneed me in the crotch on purpose — but did she pop my ball by accident? Are my balls so fragile a girl can destroy one without even trying?

“I imagine you’re most worried about losing the last one, though,” Dr. Karen cut in. Stuart blinked.

“Uh, I mean. I mostly think about that night. It’s what I want to work through with you. Regain my confidence, and kind of…learn how to grieve my ball, I guess.”

“Right. But surely, having one of your testicles suddenly destroyed makes you worried the same will happen to your remaining gonad?”

Stuart hadn’t thought about that at all, actually.

“I’m sorry if you hadn’t considered this. I know taking one testicle probably seems like the worst thing a girl can do to you, but relative to a second testicular loss, it’s a very minor thing! I mean, I know you’ve probably had to adjust your gait so you don’t walk so lopsidedly, and your scrotum feels a little less full. As I’m sure your doctors have told you, your sperm count and testosterone levels have probably dropped a lot — but frankly, it’s very common for the remaining testicle to actually increase its own production of both, and nearly make up for the hormonal loss eventually. The real challenge is dealing with the fact that you no longer have a spare babymaker.”

“Oh.” He definitely considered his missing ball a real challenge already.

“Okay. Well, thank you for sharing your story, that gives me a lot to work with. So, if you haven’t been focused on your impending castration, what have you been so worked up about?”

Stuart didn’t like the implication of the word impending, as if it was an inevitability rather than a possibility.

“I guess…Just dealing with the pain. And feelings of emasculation. And like I said, I'm a lot less confident than before. I have these triggers, now. Like, if I’m alone with a woman, I feel anxious, or uneasy. I feel incredibly scared to look at them or speak to them inappropriately, at all.”

“Well, that actually sounds like a benefit then! Unless you want to speak to women inappropriately?”

“...No! No, I don't! But I mean, I can't talk to them at all anymore. I just imagine their knee crashing into my crotch, and the sound and the pain and I’ve…I’ve started to have these dreams, too.”

“Yes, that’s all fairly normal, Stuart. Post-orchiectomy anxiety disorder is what it’s called. All of those feelings will start to fade as your body continues to adjust to only having one testicle. It’s a common side effect of having one of your sexual organs violently detonated without warning, and something I can certainly help you work through.”

“From your story, though, I see two much larger issues at play: The first is, how little responsibility you seem to take in any of this.”

“Responsibility?! It’s not my fault she popped my ball!”

“You stared at her without her consent. You approached her without her consent.” She counted on her fingers as she listed his mistakes. “You went home instead of to the hospital. You didn’t inspect your own testicles for damage. You waited for hours and hours, until it was obviously too late to save your ball.”

“This poor girl may have been slightly involved in your halfstration, but this is largely your fault, Stuart. You could have avoided inciting the incident, and once she’d kneed your balls into mush, you could have taken steps to preserve the extra half of your own manhood. You did neither, and now… here you are.”

“I can help with all of this, okay, Stuart?”

He didn’t know what to say. Visions of losing his last ball flashed before his eyes. Did she really think this was all his fault? And…avoidable? Extra?!

“You can make sure I don’t lose my last one? Help me with my…mistakes?”

“Yes, dear. Will you let me?”

“Please. God, please help me, doctor.”

“Good boy. Let’s start by removing your pants and underwear.”

He swallowed loudly, but her hard stare didn’t waver.

“Go on. I promise it’s nothing I haven’t seen thousands of times. We need to be honest with just how much of a man you still are if we’re going to work through this.”

Reluctantly, Stuart slipped off his shoes, then slid his jeans and briefs down to expose what was left of his manhood to her.

His cock jutted out, all four rock-hard inches twitching eagerly. Below it, his one solitary testicle hung low in the unnatural slack of his half-filled scrotum.

“I see.” This time, he was sure he heard her giggle. “Did you have any insecurities about your manhood before your accident, Stuart?”

“...Yeah. I’m, uh…on the smaller side, I guess.”

“The much smaller side, Stuart. Have you gotten your micropenis diagnosis yet?”

“...micropenis? I just thought it was a little…”

“Very little, yes. Micro, in fact, as I said. I can see how the added insecurity of being half a man can pile on top of the anxiety from your micropenis. Now, I need you to stand up straight — and no, I’m not talking to that little guy. Come on, Stuart, off the couch for me.”

He slid off the couch and stood up, the linoleum ice cold against his bare feet.

“Stand with your legs apart for me, just a bit. Let your balls — sorry, your ball — hang down loose for me. No, don’t cover it up! Hands behind your back. Now, Stuart.”

He was trembling now, feeling more vulnerable than ever before. His solitary testicle was drawn up tight against the cold air of the room.

“What…what are we doing, Dr. Karen?”

Dr. Karen put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. She was smiling sweetly, and Stuart couldn’t help but notice how many buttons were unbuttoned from the top of her blouse now, her sweet, creamy cleavage drawing his eyes.

“We’re doing some exposure therapy, Stuart. I’m going to knee you in the ball.”

“What?! NO!”

She sighed. “Okay. I’m not going to therapize you without your consent. But I’m telling you, as a mental health wellness professional, a swift knee in the nuts — sorry, nut — is the absolute best thing for you right now. I’ll wait until you agree, and I’ll let you know when it’s coming so you can get ready to deal with the pain, but there’s really no other way to continue our session without this.”

“I…I…How? How is this necessary?! What could possibly be the point?”

“Stuart. I literally know more about your brain than you do. I have a doctorate in Masculine and Post-Masculine Psychology. If you’re not going to trust my credentials, there’s no point explaining this to you.”

He took a deep breath. Maybe she was right. That was why he’d booked here, after all; Dr. Karen had written several books and won countless awards for her research and publications on how men dealt with testicular rupture. Maybe she knew what was best for him.

“Okay. I trust you. Just tell me…tell me when it’s coming.”

“Well, you’re going to do that, actually. You’ll start from three and count me down. When you get to one, I’m going to knee you as hard as I possibly can. Can you do that for me, Stuart? It helps if you feel like you have some agency.”

“Okay.” He tasted metallic anxiety in the back of his throat.

“Count me down, Stuart.”

“Three…” His voice started quavering.

“Two…” She pulled her leg back, very far.

“One.” Her trim black skirt exposed a few inches of smooth thigh, and he was just realizing how muscular she was.

WHAM!

Dr. Karen’s knee rocketed into his crotch. His eyes went wide, and he began to hyperventilate. The pain shot from his gonads and up through his stomach and throat, choking him as his eyes bulged out. He swore he could feel his ball change shape beneath her blow, and flashbacks of that night overwhelmed him. Surely she wouldn’t —

THUMP.

She kneed him again. He hadn’t been expecting it. He tried to ask her to stop, but his lungs weren’t pumping air. He just managed a pathetic squeak before she drew her leg back again and —

CRUNCH

He made a small sound then fell to the floor, clutching his groin and rolling onto his side. Dr. Karen stood above him, and Stuart looked up at her, tears starting to leak out of the corners of his eyes.

“I…I thought you were only doing one knee. Oh god, doctor, please…”

“No, Stuart. Your condition needs more than that. Spread your legs now, please.”

He couldn’t even answer, just shook his head in terror. She gently grabbed his knees and spread them apart. Stuart could see directly up her tight black skirt, especially when she lifted her knee up high, her shiny black heel positioned right over his only testicle.

“Please…I can’t take any more.” Stuart stared at her foot in terror.

“Yes, you can. I promise you can.” Then she stomped. Stuart curled forward, hitting his head against her knee and nearly throwing up. Dr. Karen kept her foot down and leaned forward, gently but firmly increasing her weight. Stuart felt his ball flattening out beneath her leather sole.

As she put more and more of her weight onto the terrifyingly delicate organ, Stuart began to panic through the pain. He batted ineffectually at her shin, his ball squeaking and crunching as he felt her twist her foot around slowly. The pain was deafening. He’d never felt anything this bad in his life. Besides once. His mind flew back to the night he’d lost his nut; the red blur of pain that had masked his vision, the sounds of laughter fading behind him as the woman and her friends walked away, joking about his misery, not even responding to his incoherent screams for help, for mercy, for some relief from the warm, wet feeling inside his scrotum. His fingers had twitched near his zipper, but he didn’t dare slip his hands beneath his waistband. He remembered being scared of what he’d feel. He must’ve known how bad it was even then, even as he rationalized the horrible sloshing inside his broken nut as mere hypochondria.

And he snapped back to reality as Dr. Karen lifted her foot high back up and slammed it down again.

“Almost done, Stuart.”

“How…how many —” STOMP.

“How many times do you need to do it?!” He shrieked. STOMP.

“Like I said, we’re almost done. Please, lean back and spread your legs apart again.”

STOMP. STOMP.

“How are you feeling, Stuart? What are you thinking about? What’s going through your mind right now?”

STOMP-CRUNCH. SQUICK.

Stuart felt like he was at the bottom of a deep well of pure agony. He’d been hit in the balls a few times in his life, but besides the night he’d lost the left one, he’d never been hit as hard as this. He could barely think about anything. He was clutching his last ball, and his stomach dropped when his fingers touched its surface. It had noticeably more give than before, like she’d broken up some important internal structures keeping it stiff and taut and healthy.

“I…I think you broke it, doctor.”

She beamed down at him. “Well, I’m happy to see you’re actually inspecting your genital seriously this time. But no, nothing popped; I promise. You might have some slight fertility issues if you’re trying to get anyone pregnant in the very near future, but it should heal up. But, besides your physical discomfort, what’s your mental state like now? What are you thinking about?”

“I…” He tried to focus. Tried to focus on something besides the pain in his balls, and the smooth, shiny legs in front of his face, and the blandly curious expression Dr. Karen regarded him with. Tried to ignore the squishiness of the solitary orb in his hands, and what that might mean for his reproductive future. Aside from the excruciating pain of his current existence, he kept going back to that night. That pop.

“Oh god. You…you could’ve popped it.”

“That’s right, Stuart. Of course, I didn’t. I’m here to help you. But if I’d wanted to, it would have been trivial to neuter you. You’re starting to realize how vulnerable you are, right?”

He nodded miserably.

“It’s like…you’re the one woman in the world that should be trying to heal me.” He choked out. “And even you can hurt me like this.”

“That’s right!” She squatted in front of him, her skirt riding up and giving him another perfect view of her creamy inner thighs and sheer panties beneath. She was beaming now. “You’re making real progress, very fast. And how do you think this is going to affect your behavior towards women going forward?”

He tried to imagine talking to a strange woman. Not even hitting on her. He just imagined a polite, platonic conversation about...anything. But the thought of speaking a mere word to a member of the female sex made his ball throb even worse, somehow.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to talk to a woman again,” he croaked.

Dr. Karen’s smile broadened.

“I’m so happy to hear that, Stuart. That’s your mind adjusting to your new position, doing everything it can to subconsciously protect your last gonad. Remember, Stuart: Any woman you ever meet can hurt you like this. You need to avoid them, as much as you possibly can, for the sake of your own manhood. And when you do need to interact with a woman, for any reason, you have to submit to anything she wants. Don’t argue. Don’t talk back. Just do what she wants and hope to God she doesn’t decide she wants to pop your nut.”

“Okay.” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he was in too much pain to argue.

“I’m serious, Stuart. I’ve treated too many eunuchs — and pre-eunuchs like yourself — who've made mistakes like this and paid the price. Men who were a little too arrogant, a little too inappropriate, or even just had an interaction with a woman they didn’t know well enough, and well…they lost their balls, Stuart. You don’t want that to happen to you, right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Stuart. Answer me. Do you want a woman to pop your last testicle?”

“No,” he choked out.

“So you’re never going to approach a woman romantically? And you’ll submit to women whenever you need to interact with one, for whatever reason?”

He nodded slowly, thinking back to every failed attempt to get a woman romantically interested in him. They always saw through his bravado to the desperate loser he knew he was inside. It had started during puberty, when his cock and balls stayed tiny and tightly packed against him while he saw his classmates grow each day in the locker room. Every time he had to confront the casually low-hanging organs between the legs of those other more fortunate men, a little bit of his confidence had died, until he was the one-balled loser he was now.

When he was 21, he'd finally given up hope of any late onset of hormones, and accepted the stubbornly tiny cocklet he'd been born with. Now he was 28 years old and had never so much as kissed a woman. She was right. He needed to accept who he was. He needed to leave women alone. Even if it meant he stayed a virgin for life. Tears started to track down his cheeks.

“No, Dr. Karen. I’ll take your advice. I won’t hit on them, I won’t talk to them, I won’t do anything besides what they tell me. I understand. I’m…really sorry.” He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for, but she accepted it with a knowing nod.

“Good. Now, I think our session for today is over. You can talk to the front desk for booking your follow up.”

“Do we need to do this again? I thought I was cured,” he whined.

“Oh, goodness no, Stuart. You’ve made great strides, but we are going to need to do a lot more sessions until you’re fully adjusted. Let’s try to meet up weekly, for the next five weeks at least?”

“Weekly?” he said weakly.

“You know what, you’re right. We can accelerate your progress. Let’s do biweekly. Mondays and Fridays work for you, right? I can assume you won’t be going on any hot Friday dates anytime soon?”

“...Yes,” he agreed.

“Great. Now stand up, dear.”

“You’re not going to.” He was scared to finish his question, as if asking would make it a reality. “You’re not going to knee me in the balls again, are you?”

“No,” she said, stiffly. “Let’s just hug, okay? I know it’s a bit unprofessional, but…I know this has been a rough session for you, and I want you to feel better.”

A hug. Actual physical contact, from a real woman. It was enough of a motivation for him to struggle to his feet and let go of his crotch. Dr. Karen stared into his eyes and smiled sweetly at him. He walked forward into her arms, and embraced her, wrapping his arms around her slim waist, leaning forward into her warmth. Her bosom pressed against him, and Stuart realized she obviously wasn't wearing a bra. He buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply, steadying himself at the feel of her warmth. Maybe this therapy wouldn't be so bad.

And then, the sickening, stomach-twisting ache of nutpain that had been starting to fade exploded into bright new agony. She’d kneed him in the ball, again. Stuart was close enough to her he could hear her soft grunts of effort as she slammed her leg into his manhood. Again, and again. She hugged him tight, holding him too close for him to get his hands between his legs to protect himself.

“You…you promised.”

“Remember, Stuart. Any woman. Any time. Always. You need to be on your guard. You can’t trust any woman not to hurt you. Not me, not a girlfriend or a sister or a mom or a doctor or a therapist. Every woman, ever, is a possible danger to your last little babymaker. Just keep that in mind, always.”

She pulled her knee back one last time, and rammed it between his legs. Stuart’s legs gave out, and he moaned. Loudly.

His dick didn’t even have the courtesy to grow to its full length before his sudden ejaculation. Stuart looked down at the manhood he had left, confused and somehow betrayed. Another thin rope of white jumped out of him, the warm cum staining the doctor’s leg. Four spurts of cum later, his cock managed a full erection, the little curl of flesh pointing optimistically upward as it tried its best to launch his cum into her pussy. It failed; he’d never had particularly large cumshots, and this one was already fading to dribbles by the time he’d managed to get hard, his cum landing pathetically on the tile floor and her nyloned thighs. Stuart didn’t understand and couldn’t understand and just waited for his humiliation to finish, bewildered by the ruined, miserable orgasm she’d apparently forced out of him. Dr. Karen just frowned downwards, clearly disappointed.

“Doctor…I’m sorry. I don’t…I lost control. I don’t understand how, you didn’t even touch my…”

“Your little dick. I know, Stuart. It’s okay. This can happen for guys like you. It’s your body telling you it recognizes you might be losing the opportunity to reproduce soon. Your ball is just randomly spraying out sperm in a mindless, desperate attempt to impregnate anything before it’s ruptured. Just let your body finish what it’s doing, Stuart. I know it’s embarrassing, but this is the exact reason we need to continue therapy. Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you will be psychologically incapable of even having an erection in the presence of a woman, much less an orgasm. But for now, you’re still dealing with the trauma of your mistakes. So just let your little dick finish spurting and our session will be finished.”

She laced her fingers between his and spread his hands apart, keeping him from touching himself while his throbbing member released his pathetic load. It was the first time he’d ever cum in front of a woman, and it felt like…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Without any stimulation, what should’ve been a beautiful relief was just an uncomfortable ruined dribbling. But somehow, he knew it was all he deserved. He looked into her eyes, her gaze aloof and professional against his own teary eyes.

The two stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, his pathetic moans and the small wet sounds of his cum dribbling onto the floor the only sound in the office. Finally, he finished. His dick hung down between his legs, so small it couldn’t manage to dangle past his spent, droopy testicle. The last few remnants of his watery cum leaked down onto his half-filled ballsack as his orgasm finally finished.

“There you go, Stuart. Now get dressed and go settle your bill at the front desk. Michelle will get you all set up for next week.”

Michelle was reading behind the front desk when Dr. Karen’s latest client stumbled out, still clutching his groin. She wondered what the doctor had diagnosed him with, and what his treatment would be. She’d gotten used to the screams and wet squelches she heard coming from behind the doctor’s office door while she checked patients in and handled billing issues. She didn’t quite understand why so many of the therapist’s clients needed such intense physical therapy, but she was just a receptionist, not a doctor.

The man slowly approached her, clutching the front desk for support when he reached it. Shaking, he handed her his credit card, and she opened up his file.

“Looks like the doctor recommended biweekly appointments. For…” She read his file, and suppressed a giggle.

“Ah. I see. Micropenis counseling? And…something called ‘unitesticular reinforcement’?” Her eyes widened when she finished reading his file, and realized the cause of his lopsided stance.

“Oh. You’re a one-nut!” She said excitedly, forgetting to control her volume. Around the waiting room, several women and their partners looked up, suppressing their own giggles. The half-man looked even more miserable. Dr. Karen had left some extra notes for her; special instructions she needed Michelle to help with, apparently.

“Yes. Can you please keep your voice down?”

Normally she was much nicer to the poor men who had the misfortune of requiring Dr. Karen’s treatment. She knew losing one or both balls was devastating for them, and she’d never really enjoyed ‘ballbusting’ as much as some girls she knew did. But Dr. Karen’s instructions were quite clear; his humiliation was all part of his treatment.

“Of course! Sorry, one-nut. Just sign here and we’ll have you set up. Oh, and feel free to tip at the bottom there.” She passed the bill back to him, biting her lip to hold back from laughter. She'd never heard of tipping a receptionist on a therapy bill either. If he had the slightest backbone, he’d leave it blank.

“...Tip?”

“Yeah. For my service. It’s hard work back here, you know, dealing with all the billing and scheduling surgeries and painkillers and hormones for you guys. I mean, not prescribing, but like. Paperwork and stuff. So if you want to tip me for my service, you can!”

He stared stupidly at the blank line and the suggested tips of 25%, 50%, and 100% of the hefty therapy bill. Finally, he picked up the pen shakily and circled the far right option. Michelle couldn’t believe her luck; she’d just made $400 for about thirty seconds of work. And apparently, this was helping the mental anguish the poor half-man was going through. Somehow.

“Thank you so much! Good luck out there, Stuart.”

As he walked away slowly, his gait hitching every other step, he paused and turned back to her.

“Michelle.” She could hear that his voice was sort of high-pitched now. Dr. Karen must have really gone hard on him.

“Yeah, Stuart?”

“What would you have done if I hadn’t tipped?” He couldn’t make eye contact with her, for some reason. She looked discreetly at her monitor and read back the script the doctor had left for her.

How Karen had known he’d ask this exact question, she had no idea. The woman had an almost preternatural gift for knowing the inner workings of the minds of nutless and nearly nutless guys. Michelle didn’t particularly enjoy being so cruel, but she didn’t hate it, either. She was just doing her job. She read off the lines Karen had left her, doing her best to sell them as real.

“Well. Truth be told, I would’ve been really offended. And knowing what you’ve got left in your sack…I probably would’ve popped your last ball.” He nodded his head, as if he’d already known the answer.

“But you didn’t! You were so nice. So, no need for me to be mean, ya know? I’m not going to neuter a guy who leaves a 100% tip.”

“Yeah. Thanks. For not popping it, I guess. I’ll see you next week.”

“Don’t mean later this week? The doctor has you set up for Friday, it looks like.”

He shuddered. “Of course. I’ll see you Friday.” Stuart hobbled off, clearly dreading his next appointment.

A Night of Magic (AKA: Living with Ballbusting Witches)

Living with Ballbusting Witches

By Preunbb

*

Chapter 1: An Unusual Family Genovia had a problem.

Her powers were usually all upside. Getting magical insight into the fantasies of any guy nearby was always a lot of fun. Ever since she started to learn of them in her teens, Genovia had used her sexual psionics to probe the minds of every boy and man in her classes, office, gym, beach, and neighborhood. When they’d first started to kick in, she mostly used them voyeuristically; but as she experimented and grew more experienced, she learned about how to use her magic to control libidos as well as view them.

She’d never met anyone else with her powers. She’d made sure to keep them a secret, at least from the girls. The boys in her school were acutely aware someone around had crazy magical powers, but nobody knew where it was coming from. Literal witchhunt assemblies were called to address the issue, as if a vice principal could compel a witch to confess. All of them ended with the male faculty bent over in front of the whole school gasping, their cocks quivering as she drew out load after load of cum from their balls.

Those assemblies were far from her only public male humiliations. Her favorite memory drifted back, Prom of 1988. She had made every boy in the gymnasium unbearably hard, and that pained expression as each excused themselves to the men’s room to try to “blow off steam” still drove her imagination wild. Even better was that red-faced frustration after, when the most desperate pumping couldn’t coax out a single drop of cum. Leaving almost all 250 boys blueballed beyond belief was incredibly empowering and arousing.

She wasn’t a total bitch; she had mercifully allowed her own date to bust his load before the night was over. Of course, he might have enjoyed it more if she had waited until the two of them were off stage instead of in front of the entire graduating class, getting crowned as Prom King and Prom Queen.

He made a delicious keening noise as, after hours of frustration and many unsuccessful trips to the men’s room for relief, he suddenly found himself desperately trying to hold his cum in. His balls were churning with overload, dark blue and stretched full from hours of her torture. He’d dreamt up each fantasy, but Genovia had magically improved them, drawing them out, adding impossibly realistic elements. She recreated her actual smell and feel and taste in his memories, bringing as close to feeling what sex was like without even letting him touch her. When she removed her orgasm block, he had no chance at keeping his load in. Each jet of seed released a soft squelching from his crotch, black wetness spreading over the dark grey of his rented tuxedo pants, the spotlight of their gym illuminating him perfectly as his bulge twitched and spat white globules through his zipper…The memory still made her wet.

She was past that time now. She didn’t use her sex magic indiscriminately like that, only on guys who knew what they were getting into. Not that she had any difficulty obtaining consent. Even if he didn’t believe in the supernatural, almost any man would say “yes” to a tall, curvy brunette asking him to let her magically control his orgasms and erections.

She’d never been in a position where she was the one who didn’t want access to a boy’s fantasies. Sean was a seriously unwelcome phenomenon.

Even now, her step-son was sitting at the table, his prick thickening as he started thinking about her. She tried to block out the wave of pornographic thoughts he broadcast, but he was too horny for her barriers. He’d found a porn star last night who looked just like her, and he’d only masturbated once to her so far. Lovely. Looked like he had the rest of the day all planned now: he’d bookmarked a few of her more intriguing videos after he’d cum last night.

“Hi, honey. How was class today?” He gulped down a spoonful of cereal and stared at her…

At her breasts. Great. Couldn’t even get him to meet her eyes today. And...There it is. A new fantasy sprung up. A titjob scene overrode the buttfucking fantasy he’d just been engrossed in. Genovia desperately wished she had worn a bra today.

“G...Good, Genovia. Gotta lot of homework, so I’m gonna, uh...head up to my room.”

The horny kid managed to close his jaw and stood up, smoothly tucking his boner into the waistband of his shorts. He was practiced enough at this that she could barely see it, but her sex magic told her every tiny movement his sensitive cockhead made as he brushed it against his shirt and belly. The dark pool of precum on his white T-shirt would have made his arousal obvious even to non-witches.

This was too much. Genovia couldn’t live like this in her own home. Something had to change. She’d swore she’d stop using her magic for good after that incident in college, but she’d never lived with a stupidly horny 20 year old virgin before. He was desperate, for women, for his hand, for anything to empty those big fat nuts of his into. He didn’t care about her dignity, or propriety. He just cared about getting off. She should have curbed this behavior years ago.

Genovia muttered something under her breath, and the air around her stepson’s balls shimmered, just a bit. She swore she saw him shiver.

There. No more cumming, at least until he gets those testicles under control.

She knew he’d get blueballed at first, but she found long term sexual denial eventually drove boys to put sex out of their mind entirely in an attempt to retain their sanity. If Sean learned to control his urges, she’d release the block.

And if he didn’t…

Well, almost every boy did. Her son had a high libido, but even he would calm down after being cut off from orgasm long enough. There was no reason to think about what would happen if he couldn’t get himself under control. She’d only seen it happen once, and it had made her vow not to use her powers permanently (a vow she quickly broke, of course; it was just way too tempting). There was no reason to think about that incident.

Her stepson would be fine. He might suffer some slight testicular damage over the course of the spell, but he should be sexually functional after she lifts the hex.

Not like Anthony.

* * *

Sylvana had a problem.

Admittedly, these magical powers she’d obtained upon hitting puberty were fucking awesome. Bringing boys up to and beyond the edge of orgasm mid-conversation never got old. Whether it was a mediocre first date suddenly turned deliciously interesting, a boy presenting to their entire class, or just some random dude standing behind her at the store, Syl was shameless about flaunting her abilities. And none of the poor guys had any idea where the spontaneous mess in their pants had come from!

She didn’t know how many others in the world were like her; she suspected some of her ancestors had it, but the magic didn’t seem to come every generation. She’d never met anyone in person who had powers like hers, but she was pretty sure she wasn’t the first in her family to have these powers. Some of her ancestor’s biographies had some hints that they manifested occasionally in the female members of her family, but as far as she could tell, nobody had gotten them for generations. She had gotten very lucky.

More than anything, her favorite part was being able to see just how much the boys around her thought about her, even without magically enhanced libidos. She’d even psychically assisted some of them during the acts. She loved that little gasp of surprise when their fist magically felt like the inside of her pussy, ending their long, leisurely stroke session with an abruptly messy orgasm.

When Sean had moved in, she’d been excited to have a boy around to toy with on a 24/7 basis. The first time he had masturbated in the house (a whole twenty minutes after moving in), she was delighted to see that she dominated his fantasies. His wank was long and leisurely; her new step brother seemed to really enjoy edging himself over and over, bringing himself to the brink of cumming before switching to a new fantasy of her: cumming on her tits, or fucking her over the dining room table,

After a half hour of this, she decided he’d had enough, and he deserved a little reward for how much fun he’d provided her. She flipped the switch that sent his testes into overdrive, and eagerly awaited that rush of pleasure and power that came with a nearby male orgasm.

Except he didn’t.

He resisted. He gasped and twitched at his magically induced state, but he somehow managed to hold his spunk back. He came eventually, but on his own terms, in spite of her magical manipulation.

Syl had relied on her powers to control and use men around her. A man who could control himself through her testicular manipulation...It baffled and angered her. What did it mean if boys could learn to resist her powers? Was she getting weaker? Would she lose her magic entirely if this kept up? That was unacceptable.

From then on, she made it her mission to force her step brother to cum for her. Every night, she would ramp his semen production and arousal levels into overdrive, forcing him to stroke himself silly. She stopped watching his fantasies and concentrated all of her magical energies on physical stimulation. She was determined to break his resistance, even if it meant forcing him to cum when he wasn’t thinking about her. As soon as he got home, she started turning him on, forcing him to rush upstairs and start relieving himself. During the act, she’d add dozens of slick tight female hands to his own, and his cock became as sensitive as her clit. She’d even tried magically tying his cock’s sensations to her dildo while she fucked herself silly, but even feeling the inside of her wasn’t enough to make the boy climax before he wanted to.

He was starting on his first stroke session of the night now. Syl could feel his arousal far before he made it up the stairs. Something about his arousal aura felt different, but Syl couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Almost like one of the boys’ she’d blocked the orgasm of before, but that couldn’t be right. She’d never put anything on her brother like that.

He got into his room and locked the door, and Syl waited impatiently for him to get naked and lube up. She shuddered with him as he gripped his cock and began stroking slowly.

But Syl had a plan. She had learned a new dimension of her powers. She could maintain a heightened state of arousal in a boy completely passively, without any concentration. This would surely push him over the edge.

Syl muttered the spell, and she felt him twitch as something indescribable rearranged itself deep inside him, in a place he’d never felt before. She felt his eyes roll back as intensely novel sensations flooded his mind.

The spell was intense, but reversible. She wouldn’t want to permanently change him. All he had to do was lose control for her, just once. How could a boy possibly keep his cum back when it felt like he was deep inside his favorite sexual fantasy around the clock? She was sure it wouldn’t take long. No boy could withstand that forever. It was physically impossible.

His accidental orgasm would be a matter of when, not if. And once he showed her how weak he was, she’d turn off the permanent spell, and restrict her teasings to when masturbation was convenient for him.

After all, she didn’t want to hurt him.

* * *

Sean had two problems, but he didn’t know it yet. He was much too busy.

He closed his eyes and leaned back into his pillow, gasping. The porn star not only looked like his stepmom, but sounded almost exactly like her too. His tinny headphones transmitted her enthusiastic squeaks and cries as her partner’s ballbag slapped against her bubble butt. Sean tried his best to keep himself from cumming too soon, but it was a delicate balancing act. Ever since he’d moved in with his stepmom and stepsister, his “private time” has been bizarrely intense. Living with two incredibly attractive ladies was probably part of his heightened libido, but Sean couldn’t shake the feeling that his hand felt impossibly good when he was beating off.

The image of his stepmother’s tits across the kitchen table floated into his mind’s eye, and Sean lost that train of thought as he bucked and spurted his first few drops of precum, making sure to take his hand away before he came. He always enjoyed these long, leisurely sessions, pushing himself to the brink of climax before pulling back, enjoying near orgasm after near orgasm. But his control over that had eroded since moving in. Even now, he felt long spurts of precum coat his belly, and he had to grab and wrench his testicles away from him hard to keep from ending his session early.

Sean took deep, throaty breaths as tears of pain dripped down his cheek and a final clear drop of prejac leaked out of his member. He rolled over to get another dollop of lube when it happened.

Warm softness wrapped around his cock, and his back arched in pleasure. He wasn’t even touching himself, but it felt like he was thrusting deep into something soft and inviting and oh so womanly. He’d never been inside a real pussy, but he was somehow sure this is exactly what it would feel like.

And not just any woman. This phantom vagina was somehow definitely Genovia’s. He could see her now: The brunette MILF was bent over, her luscious ass spread apart as he thrust clumsily but eagerly, each thrust eliciting another moan from her. She was on her elbows in front of the mirror at the bottom of her bed (so that’s what that was for), eyes rolled back into her head, mouth half open as she cried out in rhythm with his greedy cock.

Sean snapped back to reality, shot his hand between his legs to take a firm grip on his iron-hard cock, and began fapping with an intensity he usually reserved for the end of his long wanks. He had never been this horny in his life! Whatever was happening to him had pushed him far past his control. He needed relief, now. He needed to cum...

Genovia needed him to cum. He could hear her crying out to him, encouraging him to fuck her, alternating between moaning loudly and laughing playfully at his efforts. “Go on, Sean, almost there! MMf! I want you to cum inside me, honey. Your cock feels INCREDIBLE, even though it’s just your first time. Let it all out for me, fill me up, you handsome little devil, make me squirt all over-”

Sean pushed himself over the edge, bucking and thrusting, one hand rolling his balls around gently and the other gripping his cockhead tightly. His nuts drew up tightly in his sack, preparing to cover his sheets and his chest in a premature ejaculation.

But something stopped him short. It felt like a cork had just been shoved down his urethra. His orgasm nearly made it out of him before somehow slamming backwards. He could practically feel it being forced back down into his tightly packed balls, and it felt like a full-force kick. Sean opened his mouth in a silent scream and grabbed his nuts with one hand, keeping his other wrapped tight around his shaft, trying desperately to masturbate hard enough to get through whatever was stopping his orgasm.

Both actions only brought more pain. His balls felt like they had gone through a blender, and even his gentle caress felt like a nut-rupturing squeeze. Whatever was wrong with him clearly included a lot of extra sensitivity in his scrotum, but something else felt...different about the two organs he was gently rolling around in his hand.

Meanwhile, his stroking did nothing to get him past the brink of cumming. Each pump just shot another sickening jolt of pain through his nuts.

His genitals couldn’t seem to make up their mind: one second he’d feel himself contracting and a powerful orgasm start to emerge, and the next second, his balls would vacuum his semen out of his shaft back into them, twisting and contracting painfully. He let go of both of his bits, hoping that ending his self stimulation would end the pain, but the intense agony and twitching continued. His cock bounced up and down, undeterred and frustrated, puddling clear beads of precum onto his belly. He tried to think of something to stop his arousal, but his mind was bombarded with fantasy after fantasy that kept him right on the brink of cumming.

After almost an hour, the cock and ball twitches subsided, as well as most of the pain. He blinked away tears and looked between his legs, terrified at what he would find. It felt like his cock and balls had been put through a meat grinder.

He was still rock hard; the lack of manual and visual stimulation didn’t seem to do anything to wilt his throbbing member. It stared up at him, almost accusingly, his cockhead an angry purple, pulsing blue veins zigzagging across the side of his shaft.

But he gasped when he gently lifted his balls up to inspect them. They were still sore, but more than that, they were...different. He hefted them gently to make sure it wasn’t just his imagination.

They were bigger. And bluer. And still incredibly sensitive.

Suddenly another fantasy appeared in his mind. His stepsister on top of him, bouncing up and down. She had one hand wrapped around each of his balls and was squeezing them hard. He swore he could even hear her voice, giving him encouragement to shoot his load deep into her warm wetness: “Come on, Sean, you’re almost there! Shoot it out for me. We both know you want this. I don’t think either of us want me to squeeze it out.” He felt his balls jump up in his sack, and to his horror they contorted in his hands, just a bit. Indentations appeared on each side of the fleshy orbs.

Sean should have been disconcerted by how alien it felt to have his balls rolling around of their own accord. Unfortunately, he was much more preoccupied with the agony resulting from their movements. It felt like someone was physically pressing their thumbs deep into his nuts, cruelly twisting them around until their overfull innards were mush. He knew the vision of his stepsister was just a fantasy, but it felt so real. This was the worst case of blueballs he had ever had.

He staggered up, managing to keep his balance despite the newly acquired volume and pain between his thighs. He needed ice, and a cold shower, and pain killers. Strong painkillers. He gingerly put on his loosest pair of gym shorts, easing it on one leg at a time and using the stretchy waistband as a holster for his still-hard cock.

Sean tried not to think about what the implications of his injuries were. He didn’t know what caused them; he’d see a doctor about it, but what the hell was he going to say? Hey doc, I was masturbating the other day and I became SUPER CRAZY HORNY, yeah I know it’s normal for every young man, I know it’s normal but the thing is, doc, the craziest thing...I swear, this time my balls tried to eat themselves and I couldn’t get my cock to go down, I mean it was just DRIPPING hard without me even touching it, I was so aroused I…”

It sounded like something a pervert would make up so he could share his gross masturbatory fantasies with a real doctor. No doctor would stand that kind of blatant come-on, and even the most professional would kick him out in disgust. But maybe there’s one, dark brown hair, green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses, breasts like a couple of grapefruits, round and supple, and she lowers herself onto him, her lips a glossy red donut, as his rock-hard prick slipped down her practiced throat…

Hnnngh! Sean squeezed his thighs together as another orgasm tried to rocket out of him and was forced to an abrupt halt. This time, he felt something shift, just the slightest bit, inside his balls. His stomach dropped as he realized the implications of the newfound stinging pain deep inside the core of his nut.

It wasn’t just the pain; it was the damage. Whatever was causing him to constantly ruin his own orgasms was having serious ill effects on the core of his manhood. Something had come apart somewhere inside of his babymakers. It felt the way nails on a chalkboard sounded. He hoped his nut was repairable, but he had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t. He also had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t be the last testicular tear he endured.

Not only were they damaged by his ruined orgasm, they seemed to be growing more and more, their diameter expanding by a hairbreadth every time another fantasy ran through his mind. Was each one making them grow? That couldn’t possibly make sense...

Sean took a few more deep breaths, and used the stair banister to steady himself against the pain. How long was this hell to last? And how many more scraping scars deep inside his nutmeat was he going to have to endure?

How many could he endure, until they were rendered permanently inert? How tight could his scrotum get as its contents grew larger than it could accommodate?

Another fantasy came over him. His stepmom again, kneeling between his legs, her oily tits engulfing his throbbing cock and rhythmically slapping up and down. She smiled up at him as she rode the dildo between her legs, her mouth opening in shock and glee as she pushed him over the edge, his quivering cock spurting cum all over her-

SLAM. crunch

Sean collapsed at the bottom of the stairs as his sudden orgasm squelched back into him, opening up yet another tiny fracture inside his densely packed nut innards. Something was really wrong. He staggered to the kitchen as quickly as he could.

*

Chapter 2: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Genovia’s stepson limped into the kitchen. He threw the freezer open and started rooting around for the ice tray.

She’d watched him psychically through his entire ordeal in his bedroom. The hour-long self-induced torture session amazed and confused her. She didn’t understand what was wrong with the kid! Every boy she’d blocked had the good sense to stop masturbating once they realized their cocks wouldn’t cooperate with them. Her powers didn’t give her exact knowledge of the feeling of testicular pain, but she could tell that her victims squelched orgasms were extremely uncomfortable. Only the horniest of guys were stubborn enough to try relieving themselves a second time after her hex painfully blocked their first orgasm.

And none had been stupid enough to try as many times as her stepson had. She lost track after his twentieth blocked climax. Usually, he drew out his stroking sessions, bringing himself to the brink of climax before stopping over and over, but today he seemed to cum from little to no stimulation at all today. Even on the way down the stairs, she’d felt her hex kick in and block another squirt of cum. He couldn’t even control himself when his cock was tucked away and untouched.

That was enough proof that he needed a libido block. A boy that was this addicted to his own hormones needed outside help. If she hadn’t been a mage, she probably would have slipped a chastity cage onto him at this point.

“Is everything alright, sweetie?” She asked her son innocently. He was filling up a large Ziploc bag with ice cubes and rooting around the kitchen cabinets for the Ibuprofen. He stood over the sink, bowlegged, trying to hide his pain and arousal from her.

“F...Fine, Gen! I, uh...I tripped and bruised the inside of my thigh pretty badly. Just...just getting some ice.” He stuttered back, his voice cracking. He was in intense agony, but even through it she felt another wave of arousal emit from him. She psychically felt his cock twitch again, and she couldn’t help but make a grimace of disgust.

Her hex kicked in as his orgasm began again. How he could cum while standing in front of her, without even touching his cock or looking at porn, she didn’t know. Her magic pinched his urethra shut again, but his shaft was still full of cum. She tried to shove his boy goo back into his balls, but they were packed too densely for her to fit it in. She redoubled her psychic efforts, and felt a sickening crunch of resistance as something gave way behind his nutcords and his sperm rushed back inside of their producers. “Aaahh...AIIIIIII!” Sean squeezed his thighs together, and she felt wave after wave of painful wrongness ripple out from the orbs between them.

Genovia had ruined a lot of male orgasms in her life as a witch, but only one had felt like this. She thought back to that poor frat boy her senior year…

* * *

Anthony had no idea what he’d agreed to. She could see it clearly in his mind; when she asked him if he would let her magically control his orgasms, he had thought it was some kinky roleplay. He had no idea what he was giving up.

He changed his mind quickly when both of her spells gripped him. His balls started boiling with cum, and his limp member sprung to life, quivering. Dripping, too. It was near the end of the school year, and Genovia knew she would be out in the adult world soon. College was a time for experimentation, and when else was she going to get a boy so willing to give control of his sex life over to her?

One of her long time fantasies was offering the boy both the carrot and the stick. She could use her magic to effortlessly lock a guy away from climax, or make him spurt again and again until he was crying. But what happened if she gave the same boy both at once?

What happens when an unstoppable force slams into an immovable object?

It was tricky, because maintaining both of the spells on the same boy required a ton of effort. She needed someone who would actually stay still, in close range. And she was sure whatever the effects of the combination were, they would not be pleasant, so she needed to find a boy that she didn’t plan on meeting afterwards. Anthony was perfect. A cocky boy with a smarmy attitude to match his prodigious cock and plump balls.

Her powers let her see through his facade. He might act like the stud, but his fantasies were purely submissive. Getting him to agree to being tied up was easy. Once he was immobile, she was free to use him for whatever she wanted…

* * *

“I’m...I’m going to lay down for the evening, actually. I already ate dinner, and I don’t feel so great.” Sean’s words snapped Genovia back to the present.

She frowned, attempting to look worried about her son’s condition. “Are you sure, sweetie? You’re not walking quite right, it looks like that bruise is pretty bad. You didn’t...hurt your balls, did you?”

“No!” He squeaked, much too quickly. He pressed the melting icepack back unconvincingly into his leg, although she could tell he desperately wanted it to sooth his burning, aching ballsack. “I’ll...I’ll be fine.”

Sean hobbled away, and Genovia sighed. Even through his pain, she could see that he had no plans to rest for quite a while tonight. He just couldn’t seem to keep his mind out of the gutter.

Boys could be so stubborn sometimes.

* * *

Sylvana was thinking the same thing as she felt her stepbrother’s arousal aura trudging upstairs again.

He must be doing it to spite her. Nothing else explained how he could hold his cum in through her merciless magical blueballing. She’d tried every trick she knew, and he still held out.

Clearly, her stepbrother needed more drastic intervention.

She’d seen videos online demonstrating how effective ballcrushing was at forcing semen out of a boy. She’d never tested the technique out with her magic powers before today, but she’d squeezed plenty of testicles with her hands and feet hard enough to make them squirt. Earlier, during her step-brother’s frustrating adventure in his rooms, she’d even psychically busted her brother’s balls, squeezing as hard as she could and driving the psychic force of her thumb deep into the center of his gonad.

The force should have been more than strong enough to juice his fruits completely. The only explanation was that her voodoo spell wasn’t working properly. She was going to need to bust them in the physical realm instead of the magical one. But she would need an excuse for that...

She waited for him to get to the top of the stairs before coming out of her room. “Sean!” She shouted severely, frowning at the bow-legged kid.

The stubborn ass had gotten an icepack, and was pressing it into his swollen balls. He was numbing them even further, making it even harder for her to force him to cum. She couldn’t believe he was audacious enough to flaunt his self-control right in front of her.

“You jacked off next to me when I was sleeping last week.” He hadn’t, but the false memory she was projecting onto his mind was extremely convincing. She watched his face twist in confusion, then shock, then horror.

“Oh...oh god, I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I would do that, I’ll never-”

She stepped forward swiftly and planted her knee between his legs. She could feel his man lumps squishing beneath her hard kneecap, and they felt ridiculous. She’d seen and felt his balls dozens of times through the ether, but never in the flesh. The two orbs were so much lumpier and swollen than she had remembered them.

Before he could catch his breath, she repeated the process, rhythmically slamming knee after knee up into his vulnerable testes. She smiled as she felt something deflate encouragingly beneath her assault. She’d seen this before: whenever a boy came from ballbusting, their nut sort of imploded inwards, forcing their load out before reinflating to their original shape. This was a sure sign that she had forced his sticky load out of him at last. She continued her knees anyway, each one sinking deeper and deeper into his battered nuts, forcing out more and more sticky wetness on the front of his shorts.

Finally, she was finished. She let the boy down, and he predictably collapsed in the fetal position. He was mewling and shuddering pathetically, his eyes crossed in pain. She almost would’ve felt bad at him, if she wasn’t so pissed at how he’d denied her the orgasm he owed her. Syl pulled her stepbrother’s shorts down, and his slimy cock and balls flopped out. His genitals and pubes were covered in slimy, clear wetness, but it lacked the opacity of true cum.

She gave him a physical reacharound, probing the tip of his penis and the inside of his shorts for the gooey load she was sure he had surrendered. But all of the fluid appeared to just be so much sterile precum. He had been edged beyond what should be humanly possible, but he STILL HADN’T CUM!

Syl had had enough. She psychically contorted his testicles, and she felt them move beneath her physical grip, indentations and bulges exactly matching the intricate patterns of pressure she etched on them through magic. Her powers were manifesting just fine in the physical world…So why the hell didn’t he cum earlier in his bedroom?

And what was that squelching testicular implosion beneath her knee?

She rolled his nuts around in her hands, and she found the answer to her second question. His balls felt significantly less firm than they had after the first knee. Neither of them were popped, but both were likely weakened permanently. She bit her lip guiltily. The damage was far more extensive than it should have been from her physical attacks alone; her earlier psychic assault on his balls must have loosened his nutmeat up already. That, combined with dozens of sharp knees, was enough to inflict some serious damage inside the plump eggs.

His injuries put him at a serious risk of suffering a rupture from even a few more full strength kicks. If she popped his nuts, he’d never cum again, and all of her efforts to force him to would be ruined! She released the grip around his balls and turned the constant tease spell back on. He jerked and passed out as visions of naked women overwhelmed his mind.

She dragged the unconscious boy back to his room, easing him under the covers. He would be asleep for a while, and she always found it easiest to manipulate boys when they were in dreamland. Their minds were so pliable then.

“Remember Sean, you deserved all that nutpain. Remember it the next time you feel the urge to masturbate to me without my consent. If I ever find you doing it again, I will rupture both of them. Thoroughly.” She smiled at the shuddering boy as he faded out of consciousness.

“Sweet dreams, dude.”

*

Chapter 3: Nightmares

Sean lay in bed, eyes half open, gurgling with pain.

His testicles were approximately the size of oranges now, and he had to lay splay legged in his bed to avoid crushing them between his thighs. He didn’t dare touch them to confirm, but he knew they were out of round now. He could see lumps and dents in places that had been smooth unbroken nutmeat before. Each irregularity felt fiery and nauseating, like a hot patch of pure pain on his manhood.

He willed himself to sleep. At least unconsciousness would bring relief from the pain.

* * *

He awoke suddenly. Someone was under the covers with him. Someone warm, and wet, pressing two soft fleshy orb into his chest. He shuddered as the mystery partner wriggled up, aligning her warm wetness with his stiff member. The pain in his balls was finally gone.

“You’ve seen Inception, right?” His stepsister’s voice! He tried to move, but he couldn’t. Why couldn’t he? Why did everything feel so-

“Each layer of dreaming you’re in really does slow down time, although they got the factor off by a bit. I put us fairly deep in here, so I don’t have to worry about running out of real-world time. This...might take a while, if your subconscious is as stubborn as your conscious mind.” He heard the bite of anger in her voice. “I don’t know why you’ve been so insistent on controlling yourself, but I’m sure I’m finally going to break you tonight.”

He tried to resist, but she slid onto him effortlessly. His cock was engulfed in heavenly warmth, and he felt her tight pussy walls contract around his throbbing hardness. She was soaking wet, and she fit him like a glove. He instinctually started bucking, moaning each time he thrust into and out of her. She moaned, and Sean quickly started to reach his limit. He had been blueballed for hours, and his stamina was completely shot. He couldn’t possibly hold back-

And he did. Of course he did. The agony came back, stretching and tearing the insides of his delicate organs. His stepsister’s pussy contract around him, but the blockage inside his cock had appeared again. Everything seemed otherworldly, both too detailed and too blurry to be real. She fucked him vigorously and enthusiastically, driving him far past what should have been the point of no return, and once again he hit that metaphorical wall. His balls squelched in protest as another blocked orgasm forced something to come apart inside them, and he cried out in pain.

Syl had gone from happy and teasing to angry as none of her efforts convinced his cock to let a drop of cum out. She finally lifted off of him her own lovejuices coating his cock and lower belly, and stepped away.

“I’m disappointed you held out at all, but I figured something like this would happen. Luckily, the time dilation property of your dreams gives us sooo much time to play around. I know that little ride probably felt like it took hours, but in the real world, that was only an instant.”

Sean struggled to parse her exposition. He was still absurdly horny from his unsatisfying sex, and his mind was struggling to grasp concepts other than the immediate draining of his dangerously swollen testicles. “Real world...This…You’re a dream, you’re...you’re not real…”

Dream Syl sighed. “If believing that makes this easier for you, go right ahead. This is happening, whether you believe it or not.”

And suddenly she was reversed, her pussy pretty into his face, her hands gliding up and down his oily, twitching member. She rubbed her tight pinkness up and down his nose and lips, moaning as he desperately tongued at her nub of a clit. He’d never tasted a woman before, but his mind seemed to know how to recreate an exact replica of it. He squealed when his cock bounced in her hand again.

...And suddenly his stepsister was gone, and two women from his past were pleasuring him. Sofia, the strong Russian girl from his freshman calculus seminar, and Kayleigh, a plump redhead who helped him study for physics. Both were naked, eagerly fighting over which one got to ride Sean’s face and which one would fuck his cock. Sofia settled for his face, and he did his best to please the wide-thighed Russian goddess as she lowered her fat clit into his mouth. She grabbed his head and humped him unashamedly, taking as much pleasure from his inexperienced cunnilingus as she could. Kayleigh bounced up and down on his cock, fat boobs flopping wildly as her juicy pussy lips enveloped his cock over and over. She seemed to have a short fuse; almost every two minutes of thrusting brought her to another noisy orgasm. She wasn’t just thirsty for his cock; she also knew exactly how to use it for her pleasure. She made no complaint at his lack of cumming, and took full advantage of his endless hardon.

His balls were permanently in overdrive now, and each of her humps brought her thick ass slapping down into his canteloupe sized gonads, driving the breath out of him. He tried to squirm away, but Kayleigh and Sofia kept him pinned, each using him for their pleasure exactly as they wanted. Stunted orgasm after stunted orgasm tried to escape him, but Kayleigh was pinching his urethra shut at the base of his cock, her thumbs digging into his flesh. He shrieked at the knife-sharp pain of cum blocked right behind his shaft, desperate to spray up into her eager pussy...

...And suddenly reality melted into a new scene. His step mother was bent over in front of him, legs spread slightly so he could get a view of her shaved pussy. Her lips were a puffy pink and surprisingly tight, and he couldn’t help but get close and align his rock-hard cock with her dripping sex. He pushed forward, slipping into her shaved wetness, his thighs meeting the back of hers as he plunged inside his step-mom.

He desperately hoped this illusion would be the one to let him finish. Tears filled his eyes as he felt the familiar grinding pains inside of his delicate tissues. He remembered what Syl had said to him in a previous dream: time moved slower in here. He could be getting tortured for weeks, maybe even months, in this unending dream realm.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Genovia slept soundly, but couldn’t forget her worry. Her son’s ruined orgasm really did feel too similar to that last ruined one she’d given Anthony. Her dreams turned to that fateful day…

* * *

Anthony was kneeling in front of her, knees apart, his cock sticking straight out and dripping slightly. His jaw was locked, teeth gritted, eyes squeezed shut from her torment as he tried to endure the sickening tightness in his crotch. It had been weeks since she’d lifted either her orgasm block or her teasing spell from him. The poor boy was starting to go crazy.

“Please….PLEASE, Genovia! Whatever...however you’re doing this, please stop! My balls hurt so much, and I haven’t been able to think about anything but sex all WEEK. I’m hard and dripping precum all day, and my nuts feel like...like they’re going to pop.” His scrotum was distended with fullness beneath his bobbing cock. The normally wrinkly sack was pulled tight over its contents, like a couple of shrinkwrapped tangerines. His balls had swollen so much that they’d completely filled their containing sack up.

“A little more, Anthony. I swear I’m almost done. Just let me give you another of those cumshots you always beg for.” She’d never denied a boy for this long, or this intensely. He exuded magical waves of male frustration, and it only whetted her appetite for more. She locked her orgasm block on tighter, upped her tease spell, driving him to climax one more time before stoppering it cruelly…

This time, it felt different. He started to scream, and she looked down in surprise. Something had echoed out through the magic ether, some kind of explosion centered right between his legs. The taut skin of his scrotum had suddenly gone slack. Instead of two tight, full testicles, it looked like it only contained something much more...liquid. Lumps bulged through its thin skin. What had been two tight plums now looked like someone had stretched a condom over a cauliflower.

His balls had popped. She’d pushed them too far. No man could produce the amount of semen she tried to force him to. She felt around his sack desperately, trying to find a chunk of manhood that was still attached and functional. Failing that, she started working her magic, trying somehow to knit his fractured balls back into something functional. She only succeeded in moving the chunks around painfully in his sack, connecting a few together before they ripped apart, repeating the pain of rupture in him. He mewled and screamed through the whole ordeal. “Please, GOD PLEASE Genovia, take me to a hospital! Don’t use your powers anymore, that’s what caused this in the first-”

SPLISH. His nutchunks turned to a fine liquid as she pressed them together in a futile attempt to repair him. There was nothing left to try to fix now; the boy was permanently gelded. She had no idea how to use her powers for healing boys, not hurting them. She called an ambulance for the poor eunuch. She wondered what the doctors would think had happened...

* * *

Eons later, Sean woke up.

Pain. Everything was pain.

He got out of bed gingerly, bowing his knees outward to make room for the distended sack that hung between them. Shaky steps, one at a time. Forward. Downstairs.

If his mind hadn’t become mush from the impossibly long wet nightmare, he would have remembered to slip on a loose pair of pants. But all he could think about was getting away from his bed, getting to the kitchen. He needed to ask his step-mom for help, maybe go to the hospital-

His step-mom. Even thinking about her made him shudder in terror and arousal. She’d been a common recurring vision in his years of unconsciousness. She’d act innocently, offering her butt or her pussy or her mouth to him, but right before he could cum she’d pull off him and block his orgasm, either sticking her pinky down his piss-slit, or pinching his cockhead so tightly no cum could escape. She repeated her “surprise” thousands of times over, maybe tens of thousands-Sean lost count long ago. And each time, his dreamself had been compelled to fall for it again, giving into the temptation of her soft pussy or tight ass, fucking her hard until she stopped his orgasm yet again. He could somehow still feel her, filling him urethra up and pinching it shut, blocking any escape from his overfilled, growing balls.

Not every woman in his dreams physically stopped him from cumming. Some of them seemed genuinely excited to make him spurt, and disappointed when he couldn’t. All of them fucked him through his protests. Every girl that had ever captured his attention reappeared, real and naked and extremely eager to force him through his orgasm block.

After Genovia, Sylvana had been the most frequent appearance. She seemed frustrated with him for some reason, but she fucked him anyway, riding him like an amazon. Her position gave him the perfect angle to watch her every time she came on his cock. He learned the shape of her orgasm well. First a finger on her hard clit, then a bitten lower lip. A certain tenseness, a tightening around his shaft, meant that she was right on the edge. She’d slam herself into him hard as she pushed herself over, heedless of his tears or pleading, her wet pussy enveloping him over and over. Her orgasms were noisy, shuddering affairs. He tried not to remember…

...He remember in perfect detail. He staggered down the stairs as his cock flopped, stiff and awkward, drooling precum like a leaky faucet. Remembering a single one of his step-sister’s orgasms drove him wild, and the thousands of memories she’d left etched in his mind drove him right over the edge. He barely kept himself upright as that familiar psychic kick in the balls plugged him up. As he came back from the brink of cumming, he felt something tighten alarmingly around his nuts. Did he have some kind of rubber band around them? Or a clamp?

He reached down and fondled himself, and gasped in horror. The tightness was from...himself. His scrotum could barely contain his swollen balls. He could literally feel them filled to the point of burst, taut to the point of bursting.

He needed to drain himself before they exploded in his sack. He’d get downstairs, call the ambulance…

...and jerk himself silly, just in case. It made so much sense to his cum-addled mind. He just needed to wrap his hands around his shaft, and stroke to completion. How hard could that be? How had he had any difficulty before? He was so horny.

He burst into the kitchen, cock bobbing in front of him. He wrapped both hands around his member and began jacking off furiously. In front of him sat his two female step-relatives, one disgusted, the other gleeful. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself anymore.

* * *

Sylvana giggled as her denial-drunk brother started wanking right in the middle of the kitchen. It wasn’t surprising though, given how blue-balled he must be from last night.

She had given up actually making him orgasm about halfway through the night, but had continued to use him for her pleasure. His pleasure fed into her powers in ways she didn’t fully understand, and each shudder of pleasure rejuvenated her. She occasionally returned to the conscious world so she didn’t lose track of time, and it amazed her every time how big the time disparity was between the two realities. She’d catch her breath before diving back into his mind, and in the brief five minutes she was gone, he would have experienced anything between an hour and a month of intense pleasure.

It was no surprise he had finally lost control of himself. His entire body must have been fried with arousal. He barely seemed aware of his surroundings as he squatted down and pumped his cock deliriously, blatantly ogling her and her mother’s tits through their robes. She pushed her elbows in and squeezed them for him, and his eyes locked onto her breasts alone.

Something moved oddly below his cock. His sack was one pink shiny mass down, the seam between his testicles ironed flat from their swelling. As he pumped himself faster, she watched with glee as it stretch out, tighter and tighter, creaking ominously. One side of his left nut bulged out oddly.

She had a feeling something was seriously wrong with his nut. She didn’t know what he had to do to stop it, but jacking off was clearly not helping. If it didn’t stop swelling soon, the results would be...memorable. And hilarious. And...a little sexy, for some reason. Sylvana flushed a bit as her hand creeped toward her crotch.

* * *

Genovia was aghast. Something was seriously wrong with her boy.

His eyes were vacant and unfocused, and he only had thoughts for sex. He was pumping and grunting, his face twisting into a silent scream each time her hex pushed one of his orgasms back into him. Why wouldn’t he just stop?! Any sympathy she could still have had evaporated.

She needed to stop this, once and for all. She ratcheted up her orgasm block to her limit, pulling on reserves of magic to keep him completely denied. Sean was not going to make a mess in front of her and her daughter, no matter what his sick perverted mind made him do.

Anthony.

She recognized that look on the boy’s face, all too late. This wasn’t natural. Someone was making him-

A muffled explosion erupted from his overstuffed sack. The boy fell backwards as his balls gave way to the pressure inside. He lay on the linoleum, jerking in agony, as a small part of his left nut split open, spitting out limp mush and malformed cum, the ravine in his nutmeat growing wider from his thrashing.

Genovia released her orgasm block, finally realizing the truth of her son’s condition. There was another mage around. Sean gasped and moaned, and an inhumanly large cumshot sprayed from him. Spurt after spurt shot straight up, like a geyser, white semen plastering the ceiling ten feet away from the tip of his member. As he continued, his cumshots lost some momentum, although not frequency. His spurts arced through the air without painting the ceiling, splattering his face and chest with his last genetic material.

She heard another tease spell nearly out of earshot, and felt his balls tighten even more. The left one finished killing itself, ejecting the remains of its innards through its blown out backside. His right finally gave way as well, twisting and contorting cruelly before giving another muffled pop as its sides split, instantly spewing its mush out and forcing its owner to redouble the pressure of his ejaculation. She could tell it was obscenely uncomfortable, but there was nothing she could do for the kid. She needed to wait for him to finish castrating himself before she called an ambulance to take him away.

Her daughter gasped next to her.

* * *

Sylvana had never known this side of herself. She enjoyed crushing a boys’ balls because it was funny, sure, but watching her step-brother’s nut shatter in front of her turned her on like nothing she’d ever seen. She couldn’t believe she’d stopped ballbusting him earlier. Why did she care if she hurt him? And why had she put so much effort into making those stupid things cum? Why was her self-worth so tied to what some boy thought of her?

No, this was real power here. What she was doing to him right now was more electrifyingly erotic than any amount of teasing. She twisted his right nut in her mind, juicing it like a lemon. Its insides squished through her fingers, and she couldn’t help herself. Rubbing herself fervently, she started to push herself over the edge. She knew mom was watching, but she couldn’t stop now. Watching a boy get castrated was a once in a lifetime experience.

Although it didn’t have to be...

* * *

Sean collapsed forward, gasping and choking on his own cum as he leaned back and faded into true, dreamless unconsciousness. Genovia watched her daughter kneel next to the boy and fondle his sack. She couldn’t blame her. She had tried to heal Anthony up when she accidentally neutered him. Her daughter was clearly still inexperienced with her magic, and the girl only seemed to succeed in mushing up the larger chunks of her step-brother’s ex-manhood while trying to repair him.

Genovia needed to teach Sylvana the dangers of her gifts before she made any more eunuchs. She hadn’t realized until much later in her life that all that teasing she’d inflicted on boys in her high school had left permanent marks on their manhoods.

She learned it during a high school reunion. Geraldo Rodriguez was there, and she finally got the hookup she’d dreamt of senior year. Of course, she hadn’t known how to express that in high school, and her ‘affections’ came out as swift knees to the testicles. It had been hilarious to her at the time, but when she pulled his pants down she learned the embarassing truth.

He’d had to have one of his testicles removed, and apparently was far from the only one in their class to do so. A number of boys graduated with “only” persistent bruising and difficulty ejaculating, but a few of the more unlucky ended up having serious enough damage to both testicles that they were rendered totally nonfunctional.

If Syl was as careless with her abilities as she had been...she shuddered at the thought. “Syl, call an ambulance for your brother. I think he hurt his testicles.”

“I dunno what happened, but they are totally kaput! ” Syl stood up shakily and smiled innocently, badly pretending she hadn’t just masturbated to her own brother’s neutering. “Sorry, mom, I know his dad really wanted to have grandkids someday. You saw him though, right? Completely out of his mind, jacking off in our kitchen...I think something was seriously wrong with him! He...he might need his balls cut off! Well, I guess they’re not really balls anymore...”

Genovia sighed. “Call the hospital, they’ll clean him up and fix him. And young lady…We need to have a talk.”