DANIEL CRUSHES ANDREWS NUTS

by DANIEL

I grab andrew's nuts in my hand.
'Are you ready?' I ask him.
He shakes his head. He's starting to sweat.
'No', he says.
'Too bad.'
I start to squeeze. I feel the firm swell of each nut as I close my
fist tighter, pushing them together. Andrew starts to moan. I
squeeze harder until my fist is almost closed and his balls are like
wet clay in my hand. He's squealing, his voice all high-pitched and
full of pain.
'Stop,' he says. He looks up at me, sweat and tears covering his
face. 'Stop it, Daniel.'
I release him, and he drops to his knees, cradling his nuts in his
hands and breathing out a long sigh of relief.
'Fuck,' he says. 'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you shattered my nuts, man.'
'Yeah, I know.'
'Why the fuck'd you do that?'
I squat down, so our faces are level. His hair is wet with the
perspiration of fear and agony, hanging in thick, tangled clumps.
His eyes are wide and weak.
'Because you deserved it, Andrew. You deserved all that and more.'
I stand. He's still on the floor. I grab him under the arm and lift
him to his feet. My hand dives inside his pants and I find his nuts
again. They're warm and shrivelled, like they are scared. They
should be, I think to myself.
I probe his balls softly at first, touching all over, stroking them
lightly.
'That's nice,' he says, softly, slowly.
I step closer to him, until our bodies are touching and I can feel
his shallow breath on my neck. Then I start to squeeze again. I
start to pull his sack towards me, away from him. He winces and
gasps. This makes me smile.
'How's that, mate?'
He can't say anything, just: 'Ah, ah, ah.'
I start to crush. Harder than before. With no mercy or concern for
how it feels for him. I don't care.
'They're my family jewels, man. Stop. Fuckin' stop. Daniel please
man please.'
'No.'
'Please. Please.'
I push him against the wall with one hand and hold him there. He's
looking at me, wondering what is next. I pull my leg back and look
squarely at my target. With every ounce of force I can muster, my
legs swings forward, towards his nut sack.
'Goal,' I say, laughing.

 

It was a few days later.

I start by massaging his nuts.
'How's that feel?' I ask him.
He nods his head slowly.
'Yeah, that's good,' he says. 'Good.'
'How about this?' I say and start to apply the pressure.
It takes him a second to react. His body jerks and twists, in a
spasm of pain.
'Ah, ah,' he says, seemingly unable to breathe.
'I asked you a question.'
He doesn't respond so I start to squeeze his nuts harder in my fist.
This time he screams, high-pitched, wailing and desperate.
'It feels bad,' he manages to croak out. He's on the floor by now.
'How bad?'
I kneel down on the floor next to him so I can continue to crush his
nuts.
'Let go. Let go man, please man, let me go.'
After another five minutes of the hardest crushing I can muster, I
do let him go.
He sighs, then starts coughing. He's in a lot of pain.
'Get up,' I say.
He just lays there. With one foot, I roll him onto his back.
'Get up,' I say again.
'I can't,' he says, looking up at me. 'Don't make me. It hurts, man.'
His balls are still outside his pants, poking through the zipper. I
place one foot on them. I'm wearing heavy black leather shoes. He
watches with real terror in his eyes.
'Get up.'

So, slowly, he does.
'I'm going to make you pay for taking so long,' I promise him.
And I do.

His balls were just there, already pulled through the open zipper of
his trousers. The hairs in a frenzied tangle, the marks of a thousand
other times of pain, agony and humiliation. I reach forward with my
right hand and hold them. Not squeezing, not crushing, just holding.
His expression was equal parts terror and disbelief.
I felt the need to do more. I closed my open hand and it began again.
I squeezed hard and he doubled over immediately.
'What do you feel right now?' I asked him.
He spoke like a man without oxygen.
'Pain. Nausea. In my stomach. That sick feeling. Up in my stomach.'
I grab him by the shoulder, straighten up.
'Stand straight. Take it like a man.'
I let go of his shoulder. He stays upright.
I crush him hard. No mercy. No compassion. Just the pain. Always just
the pain.
'You gonna take it like a man?'
When he doesn't respond, I latch my fingers around his chin and force
him to nod.
'Yeah,' I say. 'Yes.'
I rest my hand against his back and push him closer to me. So I can
get a better grip on him. I close my hand tighter and tighter, feeling
the nuts grow smaller than they were ever designed to go.
His eyes are wrenched tight in an eternal wince of pain. Salty drops,
his tears are sliding down his cheeks, coating his stubble like a
liquid exoskeleton. Was it strange that this very position, him in
agony, crying, my standing above him, crushing his balls, was it
strange that it was so familiar? I decide not.
I grab his face in my hand. He opens his eyes.
'Andrew?' I say, my face maybe a centimetre from his.
'Yeah?'
He's so worried, so fearful of the moments ahead. He should be.
'This,' I say slowly, unable to contain a smile, 'this is where the
real fun begins.'
'What do you-'
I go all out, squeezing my fist shut, crushing him harder than
anything I've ever done before. I'm closing my hand as if nothing is
in there. Nothing.
'Yeah,' I say, softer than he can hear. If he can still even hear
anything.
I can't imagine what it's like for him. I don't think anyone could.
'What do you feel now?'
He says nothing, he falls to his knees. I don't feel the need to stop
him. His knees hit the wooden floor with a thud. He makes a moan of
pain. But it's only one violin in this symphony.
I squeeze, the veins in my arm flare and he jolts with the pain. He
collapses back, his head hitting floor. I lie down next to him, facing
him, with his manhood in my hand. I put my hand to his throat
casually. It feels so intimate. I could tell him all my darkest,
deepest secrets. I doubt he'd remember.
The cool of the wooden floor relaxes me. I close my eyes. I pump my
fist shut. Hold it, hold it, ignore his scream.
I don't think I've ever felt so relaxed and at peace than this moment.
The power. It's like wine. I feel ready to drop off into dreams when I
hear a sound like a pop and feel something explode in my hand.
The screams stop. He's silent. Breathing heavy and long like someone
winded or at a gravesite of a lover. I open my hand and look down at
them.
His left nut. Something's wrong with it. A huge purplish circle is
rapidly filling in with colour. Looking at the sack, I can see what
was in there has been broken. I touch it and it feels spongy and wet.
I look at his face. His eyes are wide and his whole body is shaking. I
don't think he was always this pale.
I hear something. No, there's nothing. I shut my eyes and listen.
Sirens? No, I don't think so. But. He was screaming loud. We are in
the suburbs.
It's probably nothing. I sit down next to him and wait...

Id been through too much to give up now. I could have walked away
and moved on with my my life. But I couldnt forget the pain hed
caused me, the way hed humiliated me. I was gonna get him back. I
was gonna hurt him.

Fuck the small talk. We get down to what we know.

He stands stiffly ready as I curl my fingers around his sweaty sack.
Like a junkie pumping his fist to swell up his veins, I squeeze my
hand shut. His eyes go wide and he almost falls down. I keep him
standing with my free hand and continue. I adjust my grip so Im
crushing both his nuts with equal, unrelenting pressure. Hes slow
with the pain; breathing and blinking in agonisingly gradual motion.
Satisfied hell stay standing, I bring my other hand around and down
inside his zipper. Holding his balls up with one flat palm I bring
down my free hand and squash his balls. He moans, from the bottom of
his gut, holding on to my shoulder with one hand. Its the only
thing keeping him upright.

I increase the pressure, bringing my flat palms closer together,
crushing his nuts. I can feel what Im doing to them. Can feel each
nut grow thinner and smaller. They feel almost as thin as paper.
Im enjoying it, making him hurt like he hurt me. Getting him back
finally. Making him pay.

Hows that for you? I ask, a wide grin plastered on my face. I
feel light-headed, almost drunk on the power. He is literally in the
palm of my hands and its about fucking time.

He doesnt answer me. Hes bent over with the pain, breathing on my
neck. So I take one hand off his nuts and straighten him up. I go
back to crushing one-handed. The easiest way, the most satisfying.
And judging from his expression and his grunts, its the most
painful for him. Good. Very fucking good.

I start a long crush, squeezing my hand as tightly shut as I can
around his balls, mangling the flesh. After about thirty seconds, I
stop. I start with the short hard crushes. Pumping my fist, making
him shout in pain each time I do. I start to laugh.

How the fuck is that, arsehole?

He just shakes his head. I dont think hes capable of anything
else.

I start to pull on his nuts. The connecting skin goes taut as a
wire. I pull upwards, hard. He screams now, loud as hell.

Did you think I wouldnt get you back, man?

I go back to crushing, feeling his nuts just about crumble in my
hands, and lean in close to him.

I am gonna make you pay for everything youve done to me.

He looks at me and shakes his head.

Whatever, I think to myself. I find his left nut with my thumb and
forefinger, the one Id broken. It still feels softer than the
other. More tender. I squeeze it between my fingers.

He shouts and drops, so fast that I lose my grip on him. I go to
pick him back up but Im too slow. I forget how fast he can be.
Before I can step back or block his hands, hes got me by the balls.
And he doesnt waste any time. He just crushes me.

The agony of it is unbelievable. Its like lighting from my brain
to my balls. I want to fight him, hit him, push him away, anything
to stop him. But I cant. The pain is too much. I cant do anything
but drop to my knees. Now Im on the same level as him. This makes
it easier for him. He slides forward and crushes my nuts with the
fury of a pagan god.

He asks me how it is, what I feel, how I like it, all that shit. But
I have no words, my brain can only focus on the pain. The fucking
pain. Again.

I start to cry, and wish Id learned my lesson.