by bustinsfun
I continued to squash those perfect nuts of his with increasing
pressure. His gorgeous facial features were for now replaced by
contortions of agony, and his beautifully toned muscles were strained
with tension all through his body. His seven incher hung flaccid,
although some sticky oozings of cum were being forced out of its
mushroom head. I smiled. My own hardon attained an exciting new
level of rigidness. And then I began to sense the outer casing of his
left testicle beginning to cave a bit, so for the moment I decided to
focus my efforts on that weakening ball. Mmmmm. I began reviewing
in my mind the events that had led to this
The new kid was hot. Hotter than the rest of the guys in our class.
My buddies and I were average in every way. Average looks, average
grades, average backgrounds. Outside of our schoolwork we liked
having a good time, but for the most part we stayed out of trouble.
None of us got laid every night of the week, but most of us
(including myself) had girlfriends. It was simple and comfortable to
be an average dude among other average dudes. When Eric came to our
school, it seemed like one of those wrong-time-wrong-place
situations. Why he came, I don't know, I suppose it had to do with
his parents careers or whatever.
The first indication of a problem was that he was clearly going to be
wrecking the curve for us in terms of our grades. He was really
smart, without having to be a bookworm. And on the soccer team, even
though it added new hope for our team's competitiveness to suddenly
have a superstar, it was hard not to be jealous of his athletic
prowess. And being good friends with him was pretty much impossible
due to the fact that he missed his old friends from his previous
school (which was over an hour away), and he was constantly on the
phone with them or meeting them (Eric's well-to-do parents had given
him a new car when they moved.) His old friends were important to
him, and he wanted to keep his friendships with them separate from
the times that he would grace us with his presence while socializing
locally.
And in the shower room after soccer practice his nice big schlong
hung down an impressive seven inches. Well of course. He was better
than the rest of us in every other way, why not this too? And he was
not a real show-off about it. In fact, he generally had a way of not
being a jerk. I wish that I could point to things that he did which
made him an asshole, but really I cant. He had a nice enough
personality and he was able to get along with my buds and me. But he
chose to just not really be one of our group. And he was simply
soooo much better than us. Annoying situation, that.
Sally had a crush on Eric. Oh, and guess what, Sally was my
girlfriend. Bother. In a way I wish that Eric had been a flirt with
Sally and the other girls at school, but he wasn't. And that meant
there was no justification for me to be mad at *him* about this. He
was just naturally perfect, and it was hard not to notice. Sally
couldnt keep her eyes off him. Its one thing to see your girl
slobber over a picture of a movie star in a magazine, but for her to
have the hots over another dude at school? I really like Sally and I
couldnt be mad at her over this. She and I talked about it. She
was realistic enough to know that there was no chance that she and
Eric would ever really get together. And after I told her that it
was embarrassing for me when she allowed herself to stare at Eric
all the time, she said that she would try to keep him off her mind.
"They. Are. Huge." That's what I overheard one of Sally's
girlfriends saying to her over lunch one day as I approached their
table to say hi. Sally was smiling and blushing. They stopped
talking. So I just asked, "What's all this talk about hugeness?"
Sally said that she would talk to me about it later.
So later that day she told me that a couple of her girlfriends had
discovered a tiny peephole into the mens showers. To be honest, I
wasn't overly concerned about this girls-will-be-girls activity.
What the heck, if they want to go to a lot of trouble to see me and
my soccer buds naked, we're not gonna waste energy getting our undies
in a bunch over it.
But then out of curiosity, I asked Sally what the word "they" meant.
After all, her girlfriend's testimony in the lunchroom was "They are
huge." And all of us on our soccer team only knew of *one* guy with
a certifiably huge *dick*. And that was Eric. (Groan. Perfect
Eric.) So to my mind it would have made sense if Sally's friend had
said "*It* is huge," in reference to the notably big dick that they
would have seen on Eric.
Sally explained to me that I was right to guess that they had been
talking about Eric. She also said that she and her girlfriends did
happily observe the new star athlete's large member. But what they
had been marveling at between Eric's legs, more than his dick, was
his balls. So the word "they" had been in reference to Eric's
balls. Well I supposed I had to agree that Eric's balls were in fact
huge. Whatever. I just thanked Sally for telling me what had been
going on, and I got back to my manly way of not worrying about things
like girls peeking at dudes in the nude.
After soccer practice the next day, while showering, I told the guys
(including Eric) about the peephole situation. We had a bit of a
laugh over it. None of us knew exactly where this tiny peephole was
located, and none of us really wanted to spend any time investigating
the situation. We were just gonna carry on as usual without worry.
As we all toweled off, Eric took a minute to engage in a bit of
friendly candor about his private parts, and he was able to do it in
a non-weird way. He simply confessed that at his previous school he
had been aware of having testicles that were larger that the other
guys' there as well, so this was nothing new to him, and he never
really thought about it as anything important. We all agreed that,
sure enough, Eric has hangers like none of the rest of us, but then
it was just time to get dressed and get on with life as usual. Eric
certainly did not have to worry about being subjected to a lot of
staring in the showers from us.
So that weekend, Sally and I had sex like we always do on the
weekend. But afterwards, the post-orgasm glow did not seem to be as
good as normal, and I noticed her fondling my balls in a more
deliberate way than usual. Don't get me wrong, I like it when she
touches me all over, but it seemed like she was being a bit too
thoughtful. It was as if she was somehow, I dont know, *assessing*
my balls. I didn't say anything. I liked having Sally as my
girlfriend, and you never know when wrongly placed words might have
the effect of throwing cold water on the romance.
Then a few weeks later, as Sally was doing what had then become her
routine post-intercourse fondling of my balls, she quietly blurted
out Do you think there is any way to make them bigger? Well I was
definitely less than thrilled to hear that she consciously considered
my eggs to be less than grade A. But I wasn't really mad. And I did
feel the need to answer her honestly, that there is no way for balls
to be "made bigger." As far as my nuts are concerned, or any guy's
nuts for that matter, they are what they are. She accepted this.
And I didn't have any self doubt about it. I felt a bit sad for
Sally though. This balls situation had not yet appreciably
interfered with the good overall relationship we had going. But she
now had this weird thought in her head, a thought that would probably
always be there.
And that was the moment that I began regretting the fact that she and
her girlfriends had found that peephole. But then I thought more,
and really, I would not be regretting that peephole at this moment,
if it had not been for two other things. Eric's two testicles. You
can't put a Jeannie back in a bottle. Through the peephole, Sally
had seen those big-hanging orbs swaying between Eric's legs, and she
will always have that memory.
But perhaps there might be a way to insure that Eric's testicles will
never be seen by Sally, or anybody else, ever again.
Weeks went by. I was still enjoying my sex life with Sally. But the
post-coital elephant in the room was always the image of Eric's
almost mythical testicles. It's funny how different combinations of
thoughts can lead to different things happening in one's head. I did
not really feel any need to take any revenge on Eric. He has not
done anything wrong. He was just born with big balls. There would
be no real-life benefit to harming him. Of course, Eric was not
somebody I considered to be a close friend. And inside my head, I
had lost control of where my thoughts were taking me. I was starting
to develop more and more of an uncontrolled desire to permanently
scramble his eggs.
So online I went, searching for and finding a lot of information
about the world of ball busting. Fifty kg of pressure, yadda yadda.
(I was surmising that in the case of Mr. SuperBalls it would take
more than fifty kg.) And then I just started to think about what the
best way would be to take care of those balls. My online "education"
about this topic had revealed to me that this was a situation in
which the initial goal to be achieved was for both of Eric's
testicles to be made extremely sore and swollen by battering, and
then for the stud's balls to be subjected to pressure in excess of
what the testicular structure would be able withstand. I began my
approach in a very analytical manner. But at the same time, the
thought of wrecking Eric's nuts was becoming more and more of a turn-
on for me. I was able to avoid thinking about this project while
having sex with Sally. But there were many times during the week
when thinking about crushing Eric's balls resulted in my having to
privately jerk off. And those orgasms were oddly intense.
My initial plan for the actual busting was that I would take a
baseball bat to Eric's balls. I imagined taking a whole lot of good
hard swings at his crotch. I would try to aim in such a way that I
would avoid getting either one of his testis jammed back up into his
abdomen, out of my destructive reach. After the bat treatment, I
would then be able to finish the job with my hands. That was what I
initially envisioned.
But none of that planned ball busting could even begin if I didn't
first somehow trap him and restrain him.
As for the location of the ball bashing event, my parents often go
away for weekend trips, and my own bed might serve as a good place
for Eric to be tied and busted. But how would I get him there
After practice one day, I asked Eric if he would be willing to take
me to his old school just to see what it was like. I explained to
him that in addition to seeing where he came from, I would enjoy
spending some one-on-one time with him in his car. So we picked a
day for the trip, a day that was forecast to be a warm spring day,
and a day that my parents would be away. While we were traveling I
asked him if he wanted to take a dip in a secluded pond that was
about a mile off the main road. He agreed. My kidnapping plan was
to fight him there, restrain him, and then use his car to take him
back to my house.
In my pants pocket I hid a small pair of scissors and a wad of twine.
In order to insure that I had some sort of advantage when accosting
him, I would make an attempt at convincing him to strip naked, while
I would remained fully clothed. At the pond, when we were ready to
strip down for our swim, I pretended to be bashful about getting
naked in front of him. This was a tough sell, as we had been nude
together in the showers many times. I asked him if he would be
willing to strip first, with the idea that after he got into the pond
I would then strip and join him. My request made no sense, it was
totally illogical. But as I had expected, he didnt want to debate
it, plus he was not the least bit hesitant to take off his clothes
once we were out of the car and standing in the warm sun. He took
off his shirt. He was more muscular than me, as he often worked out
with weights at home.
Then he lowered his pants, and his underwear, but he had not yet
taken off his sneakers. It seemed as if he had deliberately left his
sneakers on while lowering his pants and underwear. He sat himself
on the ground directly facing me, his pants and underwear were at his
ankles, his knees were slightly bent so that his feet were somewhat
forward from his body and his thighs were spread, and he was
preparing to untie his sneakers. The effect was that he had managed
to arrange for his naked crotch to be exposed to me during the time
that he would be untying and removing his sneakers. So perhaps in
situations outside the showers, he really is somewhat of a showoff
when it comes to his private parts. Maybe, maybe not. Either way,
it made my task easier. He had essentially restrained his own
ankles. Plus from my vantage point of standing directly in front of
him, I got a strategic view of his big loose plums resting on the
ground between his legs, a couple inches out from his body,
unprotected. I had had no idea that he himself would be helping to
make it so easy to begin my task of overpowering him.
I gave him no time to untie his laces. I walked right up to him with
no expression, and he looked up at me a bit puzzled, and his natural
reaction was to slightly lean back, further opening up the area of my
target. I was able to get a clear shot with my sneaker stomping
straight down on his nuts. Both of his nuts were immediately slammed
between my heal and the ground. I really got him good, as he was in
so much pain that he could not make any sound and he could barely
even breath. Before he had any time to reposition himself I quickly
slammed my heal down onto his balls twice more. He looked as if he
was about to pass out, but he didn't. Wow, his superiority in
strength was completely nullified by two things: the fact that he is
so "fortunate" to have such big low-hanging (and vulnerable) balls,
and the fact that he had allowed his balls to be so defenseless on
the ground. He clearly had no idea that he was in the presence of a
person who wanted to bust him. Ha! Too bad for him!
While he was in crippling pain I was able to hog-tie him and place
him in the back seat. I had to hope that nobody noticed a mostly
naked dude hog-tied in the backseat of the car while I drove home. I
got lucky, nobody noticed. I parked Eric's car in the garage, and
closed the garage door. He asked me why I was doing this. I told
him that because of his wonderfully big balls having been spied
through the peephole in the showers, my girlfriend had become fixated
on the humdrum non-hugeness of my balls.
Before even before trying to drag him from the car to my bedroom, I
realized that I might be able to finish his testicles off right then
and there. Still tied up, he had no way to defend his balls. I
decided to not bother with fetching my baseball bat. I just punched
his balls as hard as I could about 50 times, until his scrotum was
bright red and his balls had swollen up to almost one-and-a-half-
times their normal huge size. It was quite a sight.
Now it was time to crack those nuts. I started by going after his
right testicle, clenching it between the thumbs and fingers of both
of my hands. Then I brutally squeezed the left ball. Then the right
one again and then the left one. As I had expected, those enormous
balls of his were tough. My dick got hard. He had not passed out,
but he was still rendered silent by the terrible pain. He could
barely breathe and he was shaking.
His left testicle began to give out first. I squeezed it with all my
might, forcing some of his sticky jism to ooze from within his left
ball out through the bulbous end of his long non-aroused penis. Then
I began to notice that the slow flow of cum from his dickhead began
to change to a slightly pinkish color. And then SQIK / POP! I
mashed the remainder of his left ball until there was nothing left.
I thought of letting him keep his right testicle and remaining a one-
balled freak, but then I decided that the right nut had to go as
well. I grabbed that remaining gonad with both hands, and then,
squeeeeeeeeezzzze POP! Then I smashed that one down to being just a
bunch of shapeless ball-mush. More pinkish goo emerged from his dick.
His big reddened sack looked funny without having solid balls in it.
My dick got soft, and I had not produced any precum, and I did not
feel any need to jack off. Yes, Eric's eggs got scrambled. For
good. And he no longer showers with the team after practice.
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