The Credit Crunch

Contains ball-busting and castration.

A hotshot investment banker was on a team-building exercise with his receptionist and personal assistant.

They had just complete the uphill cycle and were now stood on the cliff edge, catching their breath and pulling their skin-tight Lycra shorts out of their arses whilst their instructor prepared the first abseil line.

‘Stand back,’ said the banker, pushing the instructor aside. ‘I’ve got this, sweet thing.’

‘I really think you should let me show you how to do it first,’ insisted the instructor, while the banker climbed into the harness enthusiastically.

‘Listen babe,’ said the banker, carelessly twisting the harness as he slipped in his other leg, ‘I secure multi-million deals every day – I’m sure I can secure myself in a safety harness.’

The instructor raised her eyebrow, noticing the way two straps of the harness had twisted at the crotch to form a dangerous loop around the banker’s bulge; a bulge so snugly bound in Lycra that it was possible for her to discern the individual components which made up his impressive set of genitalia.

‘You’ve twisted the straps,’ she said, matter-of-factly.

‘Babe!’ exclaimed the banker, shuffling backwards toward the cliff edge. ‘Seriously, chill with the health and safety bullshit. You’re such a woman! Sometimes you’ve just got to go balls out.’

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off immediately.

‘Balls out!’ he insisted.

‘Fine,’ said the instructor, with irritation. ‘We’ll see where the “balls out” approach gets you.’

She had seen many overconfident men get themselves into the same situation and refuse to heed her advice, and every one had left the hill in an ambulance with their testicles sent along after them once found.

‘Ladies,’ she said, wearily. ‘I suggest you watch this very closely.’

‘Yeah, ladies,’ said the banker, with a wink. ‘Watch how a man does it.’

He launched himself off the edge with the gusto of a Special Forces operative, but the moment gravity took hold he realised something had gone very wrong.

The straps twisted around his junk tightened under his weight, pinching together to constrict his trouser meat into a dense package which protruded out in front of his body, perilously so, as he found himself swinging toward the cliff-face with his legs paralysed by pain.

The women above winced as the little Lycra balloon, filled with the banker’s tenderest meats, smashed into the granite, shortly followed by the rest of his body, and spread wide across the rock with a rupturous splat!

‘Oh, my god!’ cried the receptionist; the only woman even slightly moved by her boss’ apparent castration. ‘What was that? Was that his balls? He loves his balls! He’s always talking about them.’

‘Well,’ said the instructor, with a wry smile, ‘he’ll be talking about them in past tense from now on from the sound of it.’

The banker’s PA let out an involuntary snort of laughter and then quickly covered her mouth.

‘We have to lift him back up!’ said the receptionist. She took hold of her boss’ rope began to tug on it feebly.

‘Well, aren’t you two going to help?’ she cried.

After rolling her eyes, the instructor grudgingly lent a hand, but even between the two of them the banker was too heavy to lift.

‘Jane?’ implored the receptionist to the PA who was stood peering over the edge thoughtfully. ‘Why aren’t you helping us?’

‘Cindy,’ she answered, ‘don’t you think now would be a good time to negotiate a raise? What with us being so valuable to him.’

‘I already got my raise,’ said the receptionist, carelessly.

‘You did? How?’ demanded the PA.

‘Oh, I... um...’

‘Oh, you didn’t?’ said the instructor, studying the young blonde’s face.

 The receptionist blushed and looked away.

‘Cindy?’ groaned the PA in disgust. She picked up her water bottle and popped the cap.

‘What are you doing?’ asked the receptionist.

‘If he wants my help he’s going to have to cough up,’ she said. ‘Or I leave him to cough up his balls.’

She trained the stream of chilled water onto her boss’ pale face and instantly he woke gasping.

It took him a second or two to recall his situation, but the moment he did he bellowed, ‘My balls!’ and grasped desperately at the flattened-out lump pressed up against the rock-face.

‘Screw your balls,’ yelled his PA. ‘Give me my pay rise or I’ll leave you there to hang by them.’

‘Anything!’ he cried, shrilly.

‘Really?’ she asked with surprise. ‘In that case I also want a company car and my own parking spot.’

‘And a coffee machine for the office,’ hissed the receptionist.

‘That’s the spirit, Cindy,’ said the PA with a grin, before relaying her request to their boss, who was in no position to refuse it.


‘Good,’ said the PA when she was happy with the package she’d secured. She took hold of the rope and, together, they were able to pull him up, though, rather than relieved, the banker was hysterical as, with every tug, his compressed manhood was scraped against the rough, bumpy cliff-face.

It was an amusing enough sight to see the banker’s bright red, grimacing face appear bit by bit over the crest of the cliff, but when his bloated nuts finally rolled over the edge only to burst from the confines of the tattered Lycra and send them and his impressive cock sprawling, the girls could barely keep hold of the rope being so completely overwhelmed by laughter.

After an agonisingly long break to compose themselves, the girls dragged him the few extra inches which saw him over balance and topple forward onto his face.

The girls slipped his limp arms out of the harness and then the instructor and receptionist lifted him up until his knees for the PA to take it off his legs.

The moment they caught sight of his now fully naked twig and plums their laughter became even more hysterical as all three girls stopped to point at the twin sources of his anguish and mock.

The banker’s balls, chicken egg-sized usually, were the size of hamburger patties and about as flat and raw looking.

‘Oo,’ cooed the PA when she could finally suppress her giggles for long enough, ‘that does not look good for your child-rearing prospects.’

The banker began to sob. ‘My balls,’ he wailed. ‘My beautiful balls!’

‘Ugh,’ groaned the instructor. ‘Get him out of the harness so we can get him to hospital.’

The PA grabbed the straps around his thighs and tugged powerfully downward, unintentionally jerking his junk down with it, causing her boss to yelp.

‘Oh,’ she said, standing back up. ‘I guess he’s pretty well caught in those straps.’

‘His dick turning blue didn’t tip you off?’ asked the instructor, with a wry smile.

‘Here’s a knife in,’ she continued, producing a Swiss Army knife from her pocket and handing it to the PA. ‘You’ll have to cut them off him.’

‘What ?’ cried the receptionist with dismay.

The other women looked at her with disbelief.

‘The straps you idiot,’ said the PA. She deftly snapped the two straps around his thighs and went for the two ensnaring his genitals.

‘Although I suppose I could just snip off his nuts while I’m at it,’ she joked, devilishly.

Having been understandably focused on the state of his testicles, the banker had paid attention to little of what went before and heard only the threat to what was left of his manhood.

With a terrified squeal he shoved aside the two girls holding his arms and shuffled quickly backwards to escape his knife-wielding PA.

It was with an even more terrified squeal that he disappeared over the edge of the cliff once more. Though this time with the abseil line securely only to his treasured meat and two veg.

The girls rushed to the cliff edge just in time to see him run out of rope and come to an abrupt halt.

‘Ooooo!’ they cooed in unison, recoiling at the sickening sound of a man being separated from his baby-makers.

‘Well,’ said the PA after they had watched his twitching body swing for a few minutes, ‘he did always boast about being “well-hung!”’

The girls shared a delicious chuckle and then made their way back down the hill to call for an ambulance.